Dark Dreams

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by Michael Genelin


  Jana was on the outskirts of the old, neglected, and decrepit housing development called Petržalka. The high-rise buildings were an enclave of low-income families, a jungle of structures that trapped every one of the households that lived inside it.

  Jana began walking toward the Carrefour supermarket area, where the taxis stopped. She had not gone twenty feet before she realized she was being stalked. The absence of noise made it clear. Like the creatures in the African jungle, the resident animals living in this jungle knew when the predators were on the hunt, and went silent.

  Jana set her suitcase down, opened it, and rummaged through her clothes, pulling out her gun, making sure that whoever was watching her knew she was armed. They would hesitate, perhaps think twice about coming after her. Jana checked the gun, made sure a shell was in its chamber, and slipped it back inside its holster in the small of her back. She began walking again, setting a steady pace, staying away from the buildings, then taking to the streets, using the parked cars as partial cover.

  Jana was nearly at the market when she saw the woman. She stood at the other side of the huge market’s entrance, out of the way of the large crowds of people coming in and out. The woman casually read her paper, a cart full of groceries in front of her so that she blended in with the other shoppers. If Jana had not recognized her, she would have passed close enough for the woman to have shot her at point blank. She was the woman Jana had seen in Vienna, in the café with Kamin. Jana had watched them brutally kill a man on the street. She was part of a team of human hunters. That meant her partner was nearby, perhaps behind Jana, ready to attack if the woman distracted Jana enough so that he could succeed. Jana hazarded a quick glance to her rear as she snapped the safety of her gun off. She estimated the time it would take her to get to the entrance of the market, assuming that before she could go inside, the woman’s partner would appear. The man must be in the lot, among the cars, and he would fall in behind Jana at the last minute. There was no doubt in Jana’s mind that they would use the same method that she had witnessed in Vienna.

  Jana had to surprise the two killers before they could act. She took a few more steps; then, when she saw the woman put her paper down and begin walking toward her, Jana dropped her overnight bag to the ground and broke into a run, heading for the market’s massive entrance. To her left, Jana saw rapid movement in the parking lot. She had to deal with the woman first. Jana paused, took quick aim, then snapped off a shot at the woman, who stopped and crouched behind a line of shopping carts. Jana had gained a few seconds. Her partner would be unable to catch up with Jana before she got into the market. She took off at a dead run again.

  Carrefour was a massive complex of goods. The French company that owned the mega-market undertook to supply all of life’s material comforts except cars—which they stocked parts for—and funerals. Televisions, clothing, groceries, building supplies, the store was chock-full of goods, a one-stop-shopping experience. It was a cavernous structure. And it was filled to overflowing with people.

  As soon as Jana entered, she realized she had a problem. She could not shoot in a crowded area like this, but those chasing her would. The shot that Jana had already fired was having its effect. People were milling about like a herd of cattle frightened by lightning and thunder. When they saw Jana with a gun in her hand, they began to flee in all directions.

  Jana ran down the center aisle. People paid less attention to her as she moved deeper into the store. They were too intent on filling up bags, baskets, and shopping carts. A child stared at Jana as she went past, noticed the automatic in her hand, and tried to call it to the attention of his otherwise preoccupied mother, who was more interested in the variety of hair rinses on the shelves.

  Jana reached the back of the market and went through a door to the storage area. Goods were piled on shelves all the way to the ceiling, busy employees running around, forklifts cruising, everyone hustling.

  There had to be a loading platform in back, where trucks pulled up and workers offloaded merchandise. She saw natural light at the back of the storage area, an opening to the outside world, and ran for it.

  As soon as she emerged, the first shot was fired at her. Her life was saved by the unexpected intervention of a large forklift. The bullet ricocheted off its metal sides. Jana spun and darted down the delivery dock. She had underestimated the gunmen. The two in front were the stalkers; the hunters in the rear were there to shoot her.

  Jana dodged in and around the litter of crates. Workers scattered or simply stared at her open-mouthed. She was weaving around a particularly cluttered area when she ran into one of the people stalking her.

  He had climbed onto the platform to try to locate her. He was as startled as Jana when they suddenly confronted each other. The man snapped a shot at her at the same time that she fired. His shot went wide. Jana thought she had hit him, but didn’t wait to see. The others behind her were gaining ground. Their aim would be better.

  Jana took the only way out. A large open-backed truck was moving away from the platform, its merchandise offloaded. Jana leaped the gap between the dock and the truck and dived behind the few boxes that remained on the truck floor.

  Prone, Jana looked around the edge of a box and saw one of the gunmen frantically searching the platform, joined quickly by the two who had followed her from the front of the store. Relief flooded her. They had not realized that she was in the truck.

  Jana stayed behind the cartons until the truck rolled across the Nový Most bridge, over the Danube and into town. She jumped off the back of the truck when it stopped for a light in the area near the Carlton in the southern part of the Old Town.

  Sabina was right. They were coming after her.

  Thirty minutes later, as Jana was walking into police headquarters, she remembered her overnight bag, abandoned in front of the mega-market. She called the Carrefour’s manager on her cell phone. He was courteous, but sorry to report that no one had turned in the bag. There had been a problem at the market, so things were a bit disorganized. A terrible shooting had occurred, and the police were looking for witnesses. If onlookers had information, the manager told her, the police were asking for them to call. He proceeded to give her the number for the police that he had been given. It was Trokan’s cell number.

  She called it. Trokan was still at the scene. Yes, he told her, he had her bag. It had been picked up in front of the Carrefour. It seemed there had been a shooting in back of the market. Could Jana, by any chance, have shot anyone today?

  She told him she had.

  It might have saved him some time and trouble, he suggested, if she’d telephoned him about it earlier. He was angry. To prove how angry he was, he hung up on her. Jana called him back. This time he listened very politely, then told her to wait at the station for him.

  Before Trokan returned, Jana wrote up her reports on the Carrefour event, as well as on what she had learned from her Vienna trip and her conversation with Postova.

  The man Jana had shot, who was likely to die, had been identified by his passport. He was an American. This did not make the colonel feel any better. American diplomats were notorious for demanding quick explanations, and Trokan was in no mood to deal with their complaints. On the other hand, the incredibly vast computerized records the Americans kept should yield quick information as to his identity.

  After reading a summary Jana had prepared, Trokan suggested that they provide a bodyguard for her. Jana turned the suggestion down. He next urged her to take a vacation out of the country. She had too much work, she explained; besides, the case was now coming together. And they had the injured man in the hospital to interview. That would mean more information. Ten minutes later, Trokan received a call from the police officer stationed at the ICU. The American had died.

  Trokan mumbled a few incoherent syllables under his breath, then told Jana to go home until he informed her that she could come back to work. Trokan had some explaining to do to the minister, and it would be better if she was b
eyond reach.

  She walked back to her office, passing Seges, who looked altogether too smug. The word must have swept through the office that she had been involved in a shooting, and he seemed to think Jana was in trouble. Jana imagined unpleasant things happening to him, then grabbed her bag and drove home.

  Chapter 44

  Jarov was sitting on the front steps of her house, ostensibly unconcerned as to whether the neighbor across the street noticed that he was watching her. Jana was too tired to reprimand him. She carried her bag inside the house, dumped it on her bed, then went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Jarov followed her.

  “I needed some sun, so I thought a little tanning session on the front porch would be nice.” His expression told Jana he was putting her on. “Don’t you think I look better when I’m not so pale?”

  This was not the rough-edged Jarov that Jana knew. She put the coffeepot down and stared at him. No question, the man was teasing her.

  “Okay, game over,” she said. The Cheshire-cat look on his face confirmed her perceptions. He had new information. “I suppose I get Twenty Questions. If the listening devices are still in this house, you’re not worried about them. Which gives me the answer to the question I haven’t asked: the miscreants who bugged my home came by last night and took their equipment out of the house across the street.”

  Jana went on without waiting for a response from Jarov. “You followed them when they left. You know where they stored everything. Which means you have information as to their vehicle, the place where they stored the materials, and maybe, if you followed them farther, as to where they’re staying. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been sitting on the steps.”

  Jana was enjoying herself for the first time today. “I guess I’ve already won our game. Do you want coffee?”

  Jarov’s jaw fell somewhere around his ankles.

  Jana made enough coffee for both of them.

  “They must also have removed the listening devices from this house. I was out of town, so they felt they could come and go freely.” She finished preparing the coffee and then took two cups from the cupboard. “Which finally brings me to a question you should be able to answer: Where did you hide when they came into the house?”

  “The closet in the bedroom.” He reddened slightly, the recollection of hiding in a woman’s bedroom closet discomfiting him. “I had no alternative,” he tried to explain. “Otherwise I might have given everything away.”

  “Everything,” she agreed, smiling at his embarrassment. “And where did they go?”

  “To a business on Obchodná.”

  “Were there two men in the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did one of them have his face or head bandaged?”

  Jarov realized that Jana was emphasizing that he had long ago lost their Twenty Questions game.

  “Yes.”

  Jana knew the name of the business.

  “The store has a sign in front that advertises ‘Antiques from the Golden Ages,’ correct?”

  Jarov couldn’t keep his admiration from showing.

  “Were you following me while I was following them?” he asked.

  “I was in Vienna. You know that.” Jana had to fight the temptation to continue the game, then decided to take pity on him. “A man involved in the case is named Giles. Another suspect is Spis, his bodyguard. Giles owns Golden Antiques.”

  Jana poured coffee for both of them, trying to sort out the confusing details. There had to be two groups. One had tried to kill her that morning. The other belonged to Giles. Otherwise, why would he have bugged her house? Then there were the killings of the smugglers. No question, the key to the entire mess was the nature of the items being smuggled.

  Ivan Boryda was working on the Slovak fission program with the IAEA. Could they be into smuggling parts of atomic weapons, shopping them to various countries? It would be an incredibly lucrative business. Every nation in the world that did not have atomic weapons wanted them. But these packages that were being smuggled were not heavy, nor extraordinarily big. Jana shook her head, trying to clear the fantasies out. This one was too complex and too farfetched. She dismissed the notion.

  “Can I go?” Jarov inquired. “I’ve been up all night.”

  “Have you talked to the woman across the street?”

  “Not yet. No time.”

  “Go home and sleep for a few hours. Then get a statement from her. She will lie at first. If you push her, she will break. Watch out for her husband; he likes to fight. My guess is that they paid her money, which she has kept in the house so the tax man won’t get a chunk. Confiscate it. And find a photograph of Giles and Spis at the station and have her identify them.”

  Jarov left just as the phone rang. Jana answered it, thankful that the listening devices had been removed. It was Daniela.

  “Hello, Grandma Jana.”

  After the tension Jana had been subjected to, the day was swiftly redeemed by a simple telephone call.

  “Daniela, it’s lovely to hear from you. Are you in Switzerland?”

  “Yes. We’re still in Geneva.”

  “Has Grandma Mimi let you call me?”

  “Oh, no. She’s still mad at you. I just decided to call.”

  Jana felt some of her joy drain away. If and when Mimi found out about the call she would blame Jana, further straining their relationship. Since there was nothing Jana could do about it, she decided to continue her conversation with Daniela and enjoy the moment.

  “I’m sorry she’s still angry. I’m not angry at Grandma Mimi.”

  “I know, Grandma Jana. I just wanted to tell you how much I liked going to see where Charlie lived.”

  “Even if the statue was not like him?”

  “It was like him enough.”

  “I’m glad. I hoped you were not too frightened by what happened.”

  “I felt sorry for the man who was hurt.”

  “So did I.”

  “I called for another reason, Grandma.”

  “What’s the other reason, Daniela?”

  “I think we’re leaving here.”

  Were they going back to the United States already? It felt wrong. The family had not been in Geneva as long as Jana understood they’d planned to stay. Daniela’s grandfather could not have completed his work. Daniela was also in school there. Why would they take her away from her studies at this time?

  “I had hoped to see you before you went, Daniela. I’m disappointed.”

  “I wanted to see you also, Grandma Jana.”

  If she could talk to Mimi again, maybe Jana could persuade her to let her see her grandchild before they actually left.

  “Maybe I will be able to see you before you go.”

  “We’re leaving today. We’re in a big rush.”

  A rush suggested a crisis.

  “Is everyone okay? Was anyone in the family hurt? Was there an accident?”

  “I think it had to do with what happened the day before yesterday, at school.”

  “What happened at school, Daniela?”

  “A man and a woman came to pick me up. They said they were from Grandma Mimi, and that Grandma had been hurt, so they had been sent to get me. But the school wouldn’t let me go. The school told Grandma Mimi, and she was upset.”

  A chill went through Jana. They had gone after her granddaughter. There was no doubt as to why they had tried to take Daniela. It was to get at Jana, a way to stop her from going forward. Maybe their failure to get Daniela had impelled them to try to kill her today.

  “Is Grandma Mimi there with you?”

  “In my bedroom, packing for me.”

  “Daniela, I want you to bring Grandma Mimi to the phone so I can talk to her.”

  “She’ll be mad that I called you.”

  “She’ll be mad at me, not you. It’s important, Daniela. Tell her I told you that it’s absolutely imperative that I talk to her.”

  “What does imperative mean?”

  “It means
she has to come at once.”

  “Okay, Grandma Jana.”

  There was a thump as the phone was laid on a table. A minute later, the receiver was picked up.

  “You were not to call here! Why are you calling?” was Mimi’s opening salvo. “I don’t want you to talk to or see Daniela. Do you hear me?” There was a note of hysteria in Mimi’s voice.

  “I heard about the attempt to take Daniela from school. It may happen again. Leaving Geneva may not stop attempts to take her. You have to guard her very closely, at least until you hear from me. Do you understand what I just said?”

  There was a frightened silence on the other end of the phone. Then a faint “yes” came through the receiver. “It’s connected to what happened to that man in Vevey, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, more of the same,” Jana confirmed.

  “Who are they?”

  “Criminals.”

  Again there was silence that lasted so long, Jana thought Mimi had walked away. Then there was a sigh on the other end of the line.

  “We’re going back to America.”

  Jana’s voice took on additional urgency. “That may not be enough, Mimi. You have to place a guard on her; the administrators at her school in the States must be made aware of the problem. We can only relax when these people are stopped. And, they can only be stopped here, by me. Do you understand, Mimi?”

  There was no audible response, just faint breathing.

  “It’ll be over soon, if that’s any help,” Jana assured her. “But you can’t ease up on your precautions until I call and tell you. So please say you understand. She’s my grandchild as well as yours.”

  This silence was even longer. Then Mimi pulled herself together. “I understand!”

  “I’ll call!” Jana emphasized. “Please tell Daniela that I love her. And I’m as sorry as I can be that this happened. I never conceived of the possibility that anyone would go so far as to try to harm my grandchild. Thank you, Mimi.”

  Jana hung up.

  Nothing was as it should be.

  Things had taken a turn for the worse.

 

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