by J E Higgins
The low purr of the idling engine soon captured the attention of a security patrol. Lights flashed in their direction, and the gruff voice of a man speaking in Croatian called out in a way that could only have been a command. Without first conferring with Sauwa, Oleg replied to the dark figure in the wood line. He shouted back what was presumably a response intended to ingratiate them with the locals.
Sauwa’s assumption changed when she saw Smolesk wince and become nervous as Oleg continued. She said nothing and allowed the conversation to go on uninterrupted. When he finished, Oleg turned back flustered. Smolesk spoke to him in a scolding tone, and Oleg nodded in response.
“What happened?” Sauwa interjected.
“They are suspicious of us,” Oleg replied. “They wanted to know who we are and why we’re out on the river at this hour. I tried to think fast to come up with something.”
“And…?”
“I told them we were refugees escaping the violence up the river.”
It was a believable story. The look on both men’s faces suggested there was more to it.
“When they started getting quiet, I got nervous. I joked that we were smugglers. That’s when they got more suspicious. They asked how we came to be out on the river, why there are so few of us, and why we weren’t trying to get into the fight by joining one of the local guerrilla groups. I panicked. I gave them some story about how we had lost our farm and were stranded. I don’t think they bought it. Oleg hung his head. Maybe that smuggler crack was a mistake.”
Sauwa waved the explanation away. Now wasn’t the time for guilt. “Did they make any reference to the other boat?”
Oleg shook his head. “No, they seemed focused entirely on us.”
“Then we’re doing exactly what we should be doing,” Sauwa said. “If we can just get permission to land.”
“Oh, that won’t be difficult,” Oleg quickly replied. “I think they’re interested in getting a better look at us.”
“No, they’re interested in getting a better look at the boat,” Sauwa explained. “They could give a shit about who we are. That they’re so keen to see if we’re smugglers is no more than wanting to examine what supplies they can take away from us. If we pull up, let them look at our craft and see we’re just some miserable refugees with nothing but some odds and ends, and they’ll forget about us.”
Smolesk maintained the pained look of a fearful man. He gripped the rudder of the boat tightly as if contemplating to run for it. He was deterred by Sauwa’s disapproving look.
The boat slowly approached the city. What few lights existed showed the outline of a place that still seemed rooted in the middle-ages with an abundance of venerable old stone structures lining the river. It felt as if they had gone back in time. Sauwa half-expected to have their boat met with a hail of arrows or threatened by men in armor.
Only a few isolated lights lined the river. They offered no real visibility for anyone watching from a rock cliff above which worked in their favor. She glanced back into the darkness behind them hoping the other boat would not be discovered. It helped that the river was much wider here offering better concealment. They could make out the dug-in fortifications that guarded the waterfront entryway, a defensive position designed to repel land assaults and survive artillery attacks, prime weapons of choice for the Serbian army.
Judging from what she could see, most of the city sat on the rock cliff that gave little in the way of useful docking locations. It explained why there seemed to be a lack of security. They came to a rock plateau a little way past the sparse fortifications. A man waving a flashlight to get their attention called out.
“He’s ordering us to land,” Oleg explained.
“The other boat?” she asked again.
“They haven’t said anything,” Oleg replied then turned to Smolesk and issued instructions. Their boat shifted toward land and the waving light.
As they docked, they were met by a small group of men armed with Kalashnikov rifles. The men closed in from all sides in a rough semi-circle.
Both Oleg and Smolesk tried to explain themselves to the shadowy figures.
Sauwa took the opportunity to look around. The river snaked as it went through the city. A few lights scattered along the top of the cliff didn’t give much assistance to anyone braving the shallow, rock-lined waterway at night. The lights also inhibited anyone watching the river from above at night from seeing clearly. It was Sauwa’s hope that between the lax security and the lack of illumination their comrades would have a fighting chance of sneaking through the city.
She turned her attention back to Oleg and Smolesk and the negotiations with the men surrounding them. Guns were not trained on them nor were they being pulled violently from the boat as they tied up. Sauwa took that as a good sign and kept quiet. Already dressed in civilian attire, she had discarded her rifle and kept her arms tightly folded across her chest, hoping to look vulnerable and terrified. If they were to sell the refugees act, she had to play the scared little farm girl.
Her ruse seemed to pay off. The guards gave her only a quick glance before deciding she was harmless. The flashlights moved passed her. They shined their lights over the entire boat, satisfying themselves that the recent arrivals had nothing of any value.
She had begun to think they were in the clear when the search was interrupted by the appearance of a figure who remained in the darkness behind the others but asserted a commanding presence acknowledged by the other men. She recognized his voice as the one who had originally called out to them.
The big man said something that had Oleg and Smolesk scrambling out of the boat. Sauwa started to follow suit but was stopped by the extended hand of one of the guards. Confused, Sauwa looked to her comrades.
“They said that they have more they wish to discuss with us,” Oleg explained. “Important matters so they said to leave the woman here.”
Sauwa took the situation as a moment of reprieve. Not speaking the language or looking the part of an ethnic Croatian, the less attention focused on her the better. She sat back down in the boat. The men lost interest in her. She directed her attention toward the river, the scared farm girl’s eyes darting everywhere. In reality, she wanted to see if the other boat was through the city.
She couldn’t see them but in the distance, she could make out the faint sound of oars dipping into the water. It sounded like the boat was staying well to the center of the wide river avoiding any light that could possibly give them away.
Feigning fatigue she turned her head back to the men on the shore. They had walked a good distance away and crowded around Oleg and Smolesk.
Oleg’s voice was easily decipherable as he took center stage. Whether it was a flair for the dramatic or seizing the opportunity to distract the security men’s attention from the river, Oleg played a role that kept everyone’s attention locked on him.
Pressing her arms tightly around her body Sauwa leaned against the rail of the boat and waited.
Several minutes passed before her comrades returned with a couple of the guards trailing close behind.
“Well, they seemed to have bought off on the idea we’re just hapless drifters passing through,” Oleg said, his voice was low and nervous.
“What is it?” Sauwa inquired. “You don’t sound sure.”
Leaning in inches from her ear Oleg whispered, “You were right, I think. These men are not to be trusted. The conversation they had with us centered a lot on the weapons we are carrying. They only half believe we simply acquired them in our travels. They keep probing for any knowledge of guerrilla groups operating upriver. In truth, I think they are looking to press us into service with their army.”
“Then we continue to play ignorant and bolt the first chance we can,” Sauwa replied. “What is their mood so far?”
“They seem unimpressed with us looking as ragged as we do. Most of the men seem inclined to let us go and be done with us. Their commander ─ the big one ─ on the other hand, remains suspiciou
s and persists with questions. They want us to go get something to eat with them.”
“Do it,” Sauwa urged. “I’ll wait here. Get some fuel if you can. I’ll try to go up the river and meet you on the other side of town.”
“What are you advising?” Oleg asked confused.
“We need the fuel. If they think I’m here with your craft, then they won’t give it a second thought when you and Smolesk leave in the opposite direction. They wouldn’t believe you would abandon me. None of these men think a helpless little girl is a threat or could fare well on the river alone. They should leave me alone and forget about me. We don’t have any goods to offer, so the boat is worthless to them. And, as you say, they’re looking for fighting men. The most they see in me is someone to cook or help out with the washing. Besides, if I go up there, they’ll see I’m not Croatian, and it won’t take long to figure out I’m a foreigner. When that happens, our story will fall apart.”
Oleg nodded his head and keeping to his role snapped at her in Croatian. His tone was commanding. She could only assume he was giving her orders for the benefit of the guards observing from a short distance away.
She gave a helpless nod.
Oleg sauntered back to the group of men. As anticipated, they all headed back up the hill toward the city.
22
Sauwa waited, allowing time for the men to withdraw. Then she plotted her move.
The remaining guard had also waited until his comrades were out of sight before he ceased his casual patrol loops and drifted toward her, a shark scouting prey. He made an initial pass in a casual way. Then, feeling more emboldened, he came in close to the boat making a few gestures that indicated a more intimate interest in her.
Not wanting to put a soon to be rapist on the defensive Sauwa continued playing the role of a terrified, helpless girl, while she slipped her hand behind her to retrieve her Tokarev pistol. Removing it from her belt, she rotated it in her hand until she had the magazine butt upside down clutching it with her fingers firmly around the trigger weld and her palm pressed against the upper receiver.
Moving her hand to her side Sauwa waited for the inevitable attack. The guard was speaking to her, his tone sly, nefarious. Any doubts she had about the man’s intentions evaporated. Playing to the man’s feeling of superiority she trembled and whimpered and backed toward the edge of the boat.
He set one foot on board invading her space slowly to ensure she felt trapped with nowhere to go. Sauwa raised her free hand above her head in a mock-feeble attempt to defend herself.
This drew him closer. He lunged and grabbed her free hand. His other hand groped for her crotch, while she sat pinned to the rear of the boat.
She couldn’t risk the noise of a gunshot, so she went for a more silent means to dispose of her attacker. She drove the muzzle of her pistol into his temple with a powerful stabbing-like blow. The blow dazed the man forcing him to release her other hand. She immediately wrapped it around his head pressing his face into her chest to silence any outcries. She repeated the stabbing blows, again and again, pounding the pistol’s muzzle into his temple with all the force she could muster.
The guard’s body went limp and his cries of distress stopped. From her sitting position, Sauwa was able to slide one leg off to the side. Pressing her foot against the boat, she used the momentum to lift the guard’s lifeless body off her and put him over the side of the boat and onto the rocky shore.
Normally she would have punctured the target’s lungs eliminating any remaining air before dropping the body into the river so it would simply sink to the bottom. But she didn’t have the time nor did she want to risk alerting anyone if the body should drift the wrong way. It was better to leave the corpse where it was in the darkness to be discovered in the daytime after they were long gone.
Not wasting any time she released the ropes from the rock they were tied to. With a thrust of her foot, she shoved the boat out into the water, retrieved the oars, set them into the locks, and quietly dipped them into the current. With light strokes, she headed down the river keeping well to the center.
Slowly she paddled past the city dipping the oars on each stroke with cat-like precision. She listened and watched overhead for any sign she was attracting attention. People, mostly men, shouted or conversed. A man lit a cigarette near the water’s edge. Another appeared to be taking in the last of the view in the dim light. Otherwise, there was little activity going on close to the river. The only security was a few scattered sentries arbitrarily placed, who seemed more occupied with unruly pedestrians.
The lights above were erratic in the way they were positioned leaving several places on the river in pitch blackness. She peered out at the barely visible jagged rock formations guarding both river banks. The boat was surrounded by rubber tires to protect it against just such a threat, but there was a possibility of riding too close or too fast into the rocks making either too much noise when the boat crashed or getting the boat jammed up in the knife-like fragments. Trying to get a boat free in the dark with menacing individuals responding to the commotion was not an option she cared to ponder.
The current wasn’t strong. It wasn’t enough to gain speed, but it was enough to keep her boat moving when she was hesitant about rowing. Every so often she would stop rowing when she caught sight of someone standing over the cliff. When the individual left, she would wait a while before resuming her course. Every so often the boat came close enough to the edge to scrape up against the rocks. Thankfully, the scrape amounted to little more than a bump, the sound of the current was able to mask the noise.
She had made it to the center of the city when she came to a bridge. Like the rest of the structures, the bridge was made of stone with an ominous looking castle-like tower on one side and a smaller structure guarding the other side.
She ceased rowing. The boat rode on the current while she gazed over at the bridge, studying it. Silhouettes of people walked back and forth. Perhaps they were guards or simply people out enjoying the evening. In either case, they could sound the alert if they caught sight of her, a concern intensified by the floodlights pointed down from the far side of the bridge toward the water.
The floodlights were inadequate for the lighting task. There were just two, and they only covered small patches. They were stationary which implied no one was actively manning them, but they were enough to pose a threat.
A chill went up her spine as she got close. She reminded herself the other boat had already gone up this river presumably undiscovered. This gave her some small relief as she floated on.
Rather than risking people on the bridge hearing the sound of paddles, she decided it was wiser to let the current maintain her momentum. The slow pace of the craft, however, only built tension and anxiety. She remembered the words of her mentor, Devon Williams. Patience was sometimes a virtue but lingering in a dangerous situation was always a great risk. The longer she was near the floodlights, the better the chances someone would catch sight of her, and she would be a sitting duck.
She forced herself to remain calm. Above her, men were talking. Their tone suggested a leisurely conversation. One of them chuckled, easing her tension as she passed under the bridge.
Suddenly a sharp, burning pain seared the back of her neck. She almost jumped to her feet and screamed. Almost. She resisted the fierce urge to do both and gritted her teeth, remaining silent. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw bright red sparks floating in the air and her nostrils caught the odor of cigarette smoke. She touched her neck to investigate the pain which vanished as quickly as it had come. Her hand grasped some cylindrical object lodged in her collar. Someone above had flicked the remains of their lit cigarette ─ the bastards ─ and she had been the ashtray.
Angry but relieved, she dropped the irritant into the water. The boat was now under the bridge. The second beam of light lay ahead directly in her path. Lowering one of the oars in the water, she swerved just in the nick of time to avoid it. Now at an angle, she lowered the o
ther oar softly swerving yet again to get back on course. She felt the boat brush against the rocks before she pulled it back out into the center.
A cold sweat covered her brow, and her heart was thumping wildly as she drifted out of the range of the lights. More idle conversations above told her she had sneaked through successfully. She started rowing again.
23
An hour later, Sauwa arrived at the far edge of the city. The security was virtually identical to what she had encountered when she first entered Mostar with emphasis placed on defending against ground threats. This left the waterways largely undefended and usable for an escape.
Finding a safe location along the shoreline, Sauwa guided her boat to land. She found a spot by a small plateau that led up to the city. She moored the boat at the far end well away from anywhere she could be discovered protected by trees and other vegetation.
It wasn’t the best plan, Sauwa thought to herself as she waited. Neither Oleg nor Smolesk appeared to have ever been to the city. They’d had limited time to hash out an arrangement with the other boat, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what could go wrong. There was no way to be sure her comrades would know to come to this particular spot. They had no pre-arranged time ─ nor definite place ─ to meet up with the others, if indeed they had successfully gotten through.
What lingered in her mind was the dead guard she had left behind. If he were discovered, her team would get blamed, and Oleg and Smolesk would be dead in an instant. She would have no way of knowing until security went on full alert, and by that time she would be trapped.
She realized it was no use fretting over things that were out of her control. All she could do was assess her current situation and work from there.