by J E Higgins
The night’s activities had taken its toll on them all. She didn’t like the idea of sleeping in such a place, having concerns about how easily they could be trapped down below. But there was nowhere else she thought would have been any safer. Given Victor’s crew was crashed out in the same lodgings, she felt it was probably her safest spot.
She slid out the door with minimal noise and started down the narrow hall which was lit by a succession of small lights. Finding the shower room, she seized the chance for a quick shower. The warm water and privacy was something she savored in the brief time she had. Feeling clean, she dressed and made her way to the galley.
To her surprise, she found Oleg alone at one of the tables picking at a plate of food and sipping what she took to be a cup of coffee. Moving over to the table, she took a seat directly across from him. He barely noticed her for the first few seconds.
“We’ll be making port later this evening.” He opened the conversation in a curt, businesslike manner. “We’re going to Herceg Novi,” Oleg stated curtly.
“Herceg Novi?” Sauwa asked.
“Yes, it is a small coastal town near the border. It has several thousand people and a sizable boat launch. According to Victor, it’s a good place to conduct business one doesn’t want the authorities to be involved with.”
Sauwa furrowed her brow then asked, “Is that the place Marko arranged?”
“Marko is not here!” Oleg seemed angry. “His knowledge was old. I’m the one in charge of this mission, and my cousin is the one who knows this place, this world, and the people who do business in it.
“Peacekeeping soldiers are beginning to pour into the region and assume positions in locations known as staging points for running weapons on the black market. We have to be careful where we go to sell our weapons. We don’t want to be picked up by western authorities. An issue I’m sure you are concerned with given your dire situation.”
Oleg let his fork drop to the plate. It clanked against the tray getting her attention. “Since Victor has made our job easier, I’m trusting him and his experience. Don’t worry, I’ve spoken to him about you. He will connect you with people who will get you to a bigger port and to where you need to go. He says there is a great demand for a person with your skills and abilities. If you don’t have a place to go, he will find you suitable employment in your area of expertise.”
She looked at him suspiciously, not entirely satisfied with his answer.
Oleg grimaced. “Look, I know you don’t trust my cousin. But, he knows this market, and Marko doesn’t. Neither do we. As I see it, we have few options to work with, wouldn’t you say?”
He was right, she didn’t trust Victor. Begrudgingly, she admitted they had few options available.
A part of her felt the need to press the matter. A last minute change in plans with so little information would normally have peaked her instincts for survival forcing her to be more alert. However, the continued stress from the arduous journey and lack of sleep had left her exhausted. She was still very preoccupied with her own concern for the uncertain future she would be facing in the next few hours. At some level, she had accepted that the Croatians were concerned with their own problems, and she was no longer part of it.
She supposed Oleg’s sudden attitude change was due to his own nerves. He was frazzled from the long, arduous journey and trying to assert himself as a strong leader to his tired troops. Then, just maybe, after the last few years of being hunted and having only strangers pushed into her life, she was just desperate for some kind of meaningful friendship. Or, desperation had blinded her to the reality that her supposed friend and the others still saw her primarily as a hired mercenary. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. In the next few hours, it wouldn’t matter.
Oleg returned his attention to his food.
Better to give him a few minutes. Sauwa rose and went over to get a plate of breakfast.
The galley cook, a gross, obese man who made no attempt to hide his lusty interest in her, served her a meal of sausage, eggs, and a few vegetables. As she walked away, he grunted something that she couldn’t make out but understood it was intended for her.
Oleg glared at the man with a near murderous rage.
“Something tells me the comment was less than complimentary.” She sat back down with her food.
“He noticed you had come from the shower. He was saying how if he knew you were in there, he would have made a point to catch a peak.”
Sauwa didn’t bother to turn around. “That’s original.”
Oleg was still glaring.
“Are we at all worried about coastal patrols?” Sauwa asked as she tried to change the subject.
“Not at the moment,” Oleg replied. “Croatia is still recovering from the war. They have limited resources and whatever police exist out here are few in number. They will likely overlook a simple fishing vessel. If they do not, we are close enough to the border that we could evade them easily.”
“Won’t they simply catch your cousin when he comes back over?”
“Oleg shook his head.” I asked that. “According to my cousin, the police patrolling the waters have limited communication capabilities and horrible methods for maintaining reports and collecting intelligence. All they need to do is wait in Montenegro for a day. When they come back over, they will be dealing with a different patrol, one who will have no record of the activities incurred by the previous unit before them. They will be dealt with as if it’s their first time crossing. NATO will make changes, of course, but it will take days or maybe weeks. Victor will be long gone by then.”
Sauwa thought it sounded like a well-considered plan. Slowly, she ate her meal. “What about the authorities in Montenegro? I know you said we should be all right in Herceg Novi, but what about the time before we get there. We still have to deal with the coastal authorities in Montenegro, don’t we?”
“They’re in just as bad a shape as Croatia. Between the devastated state coming out of communism and the difficulty the country has had attracting foreign investments because they are so close to three countries engaged in a genocidal war, they have few resources and a police system that is primitive, to say the least. All the coastal cities here are little towns and villages that are incapable of hosting shipping traffic of any consequence, or a large and wealthy enough populace to make a black-market worthwhile. They prefer to focus their energies in the south where smuggling affords more lucrative seizures. It’s also the reason so many black marketers prefer to do more complicated dealings around here.”
“Sounds like we’re in the clear.” Sauwa was impressed. “That’s why we’re selling or trading wares here as opposed to in the south?”
“We’re trafficking military weapons. It’s not the same commodity as drugs or luxury items. Trafficking weapons tends to garner more trouble from the authorities given it attracts the attention of governments who don’t want to see them in the hands of terrorist or exacerbating other hostile conflicts in the world.”
As the conversation dwindled, Oleg’s bad mood seemed to soften. He cleared his plate and left her to finish her meal alone.
Sauwa scraped up the last morsels of her breakfast. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that the pig of a cook made a delicious meal. Grabbing her kit, she was making her exit when she was confronted by Smolesk’s bedraggled figure leading the guerrillas into the galley. His hair, long and unkempt, flared wildly about his head. He looked like an extremely tall and gnarled version of Albert Einstein. He smiled through his puffy mustache and patted her on her head then went to eat. An entourage of guerrillas and crewman followed behind him.
Outside, the clean brisk ocean air smelled fresh and gave her a sense of freedom. The sun was just rising in a grayish-blue sky revealing the landline. A cool breeze wafted through the atmosphere catching her by surprise as it swept over her body.
Aside from the crewman manning the helm, the above decks were deserted. The only other person topside was Oleg, who leaned over t
he bow appearing to admire the view. He motioned her to come and join him.
She stepped up alongside him and leaned against the railing.
He smiled at her for the first time since the night before.
“I should warn you,” he began. “Micha has not given up his dream of accompanying you when you leave.”
“I didn’t think he would,” Sauwa sighed, gazing out at the scenery.
Oleg continued. “He pleaded with me last night to speak to you on his behalf and see if I couldn’t get you to change your mind.”
Shaking her head Sauwa kept her attention on the sea. “I’m not sure what my future holds after this. Contrary to what you may want to believe, this is not my chosen occupation. I’m out of this life the second I can be.”
Oleg looked directly at her, his smile gone. “I promised him I would make the pitch to you again. I want to know, if he asked to come with you, what would your answer be?”
Sauwa tilted her head to face him. The expression on his face was serious; one that told her he demanded an answer.
“I would tell him no, of course,” she replied.
Oleg turned away to look back at the sea, somehow disappointed with her answer.
27
They had reached the waters off Montenegro several hours before. Not wanting to risk attention by entering the harbor in broad daylight, Victor had driven the craft around in arbitrary circles to eat up time. Once night began to fall, he navigated his boat toward the Herceg Novi harbor.
It was dark when the fishing vessel docked. Aside from a few lights coming from houses in the hills and a few more greenish blue ones posted along the small harbor, there was no sign the town was even occupied.
Having stayed close to the steering room all day, Sauwa knew neither Victor nor any of his crew had used the radio at all. They were either winging this last minute change like a bunch of idiots, or had prearranged their plan well in advance. Based on how experienced Victor and his men had proven to be so far, she decided it was the latter, a fact which raised her confidence in his abilities and her concern over his intentions in equal measure.
Victor had taken control of the helm for the movement toward land. By the way he skillfully navigated with limited visibility, it was obvious he had made this trip several times in the past.
Unconsciously, she fingered her pistol and mourned the lack of access to her rifle, which was locked deep in the hull of the boat along with the guerrilla’s other weapons. This was to avoid unwanted attention should they happen to be stopped.
There were few other boats tied along the wooden dock, which made it easy for such a large craft to slide in. The boat landed with a curt thump, and all the guerrillas were out on deck waiting attentively in hushed silence, preparing for the next step. As a bunch of village farmers turned fighting guerrillas, they put on hardened faces and tried to look as if they weren’t novices conducting their first black-market deal.
Victor convened a hasty meeting with his cousin in the steering room. The door was shut leaving the two of them alone. Sauwa waited just outside her back pressed against the bulkhead adjacent to the door. The meeting came to an end with the cousins marching through the door. Victor looking triumphant, while Oleg looked defeated.
“Everything alright?” Sauwa asked as her comrade passed her.
At first, Oleg seemed dejected, then he looked at her. “Everything’s fine. Victor was just telling me we aren’t going to get the bargain I had hoped for, that’s all.”
The small amount of respect Sauwa had begun to feel for Victor and his operational skills vanished. The weasel would not think twice about stealing from his own cousin, changing the deal at the last minute, taking advantage of a group of desperate guerrillas in need. She felt her face flush hot and started to take issue with Oleg’s willingness to accept whatever deal Victor saw fit to make for him.
She followed both men down the ladder well onto the main deck where everyone was waiting. Oleg moved to the center of the group and began addressing them. He had shifted to a happy confident demeanor. As he spoke, the rest of the guerrillas nodded excitedly. Taking the crates containing the merchandise, they began unloading them onto the docks.
Concerned that Oleg was putting the guerrillas further at Victor’s mercy, Sauwa approached him. “Shouldn’t we keep the stuff on the boat? If things should go badly, we can make a quick getaway and not risk the possibility of losing it.”
Oleg shot a cold glare in her direction. “Woman! I know what I’m doing. So does Victor. This doesn’t concern you anymore.”
She backed off, distracted by a subtle engine rumble somewhere in the dark. The Croatians finished unloading the crates. When they were done, they filed off the boat onto the wooden scaffolding.
Victor had broken away from the crew. Now he motioned to Oleg who took Sauwa by her arm. “I need you to come with me,” Oleg said quietly.
“Where?” She asked still clocking the vehicle.
Oleg followed her glance. “Victor says we’re meeting his contacts in a nearby boathouse.” Oleg explained. “The three of us are going to go check it out. If there’s any trouble, I want you close. There may be NATO security in the area so we must be careful.”
She didn’t like it. There were too many unknown variables. And the reminder of NATO sent shivers down her spine. Oleg seemed to read her mind. He barked orders to his men, presumably to move the goods back on the boat. Then he tugged at her arm. “We need to hurry.”
They walked several blocks before arriving at a house, which sat away from the docks. Aside from the greenish blue lights strung over the doorway, the place looked deserted. Sauwa reached under her shirt and gripped her pistol while the Victor and Oleg moved slowly toward the door.
Victor knocked.
They had not seen a soul on their way from the docks, including any sign of security or a police presence. Sauwa positioned her feet in a firm stance ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble.
Further away, she heard the truck engine shift, growing louder.
The boathouse door creaked open, and a voice from the shadows spoke. It was a deep male voice. He traded words with Victor briefly, then opened the door the rest of the way. With a wave of his hand signaling them to follow, Victor headed inside. Obediently, Oleg trailed Victor, nodding his head for Sauwa to follow.
Sauwa’s instincts screamed at her to run. To go into the small confines of a dark room with men she didn’t know went against all of her training and her own common sense. Except this was not about her. It was about the guerrillas, waiting on the dock for the payout that could support their families to the end of the war.
She peered past Oleg into the boathouse where a yellowish light from a small lamp hung from the ceiling. Oleg entered and left the door open. Sauwa stepped into the doorway and stopped.
Men were gathered around a table directly under the light. Victor and Oleg were seated beside a grizzled looking man with a frazzled salt and pepper beard. He was wearing a camouflage field jacket, the same pattern worn by the Serbian army.
Oleg remained silent as Victor and the grizzled man talked like old friends. Eventually, Oleg rose from his seat and came to the door.
“Everything is alright,” he said curtly. “Please, come inside. Someone might see you out there.”
She kept her hand on her pistol and stepped inside. The house was an old relic that appeared not to have any particular use. Aside from the table, the place was empty. Shutting the door behind her, Sauwa made a quick scan of the premises. There were no other doors and only one window on the far side.
Moving around the table, she positioned herself in a corner where she had direct sight of the door, but out of the way, so she was not in the immediate line if someone should come bursting in with a gun. She shifted her gaze from the window to the door and then to the grizzled man, who was looking her over with deep interest.
Victor and the grizzled man resumed their talks, interrupted by a chirp resonating
from the grizzled man’s foot. Bending over, he retrieved the small handset from what appeared to be a ham radio and spoke into it. He received a response from a crackling voice on the other end. As the conversation went on, Oleg rose from his seat and moved over to where Sauwa was standing.
“Those are his people contacting him,” Oleg whispered into her ear. “They’re telling him they are coming into port with their merchandise to trade. He’s telling them where to go right now.” Oleg looked down at this hands. “The docks are clear. We’ll be heading out to meet the contact shortly,” Oleg paused. “You’ll be getting on the boat with them.”
There was no way she would trap herself on a boat with these men without a solid understanding of who they were and their plan of action. “Does he have anyone who speaks English so I can communicate with them?”
Victor and the grizzled man reached a break in the conversation. They shook hands and the tone of the room changed.
Oleg shrugged. “At this point, it doesn’t matter.”
Sauwa felt the change, but was unsure what it meant. Her mouth went dry. “What are you saying?”
Pointing to the grizzled man, whose eyes had not left her, Oleg said, “He wants to know if you are indeed Sauwa Catcher, the former South African assassin.”
Sauwa’s eyes lit up. She had never divulged to the guerrillas who or what she was. Shaking her head, she looked back at Oleg. “Tell him he’s got the wrong person?”
Oleg was about to turn back and interpret when the grizzled man stood. “I already know you are Miss Catcher, the notorious assassin.” The man’s English was heavily accented but polished and showed signs of someone who had spoken it for many years. “In fact, when Victor told me about you, I had to come to see you for myself.”
Oleg’s eyes were wider than hers. She couldn’t tell if it was the shock of the man speaking English or that Oleg had just realized he’d been working with a “notorious assassin”.