Alina's Revenge

by Greg Van Arsdale

  The chief looked at the number and frowned.

  “What’s wrong now?” Oric said.

  “It’s the Bulgarians, sir. I don’t think they’ll take kindly to Serbs taking control of the situation.”

  “I’ll take care of that. You just get on the phone. I want to know what happened out there. I’ll be out of here in a few hours. I’ll assume command when I join you.”

  “You’re leaving so soon, sir?” The chief’s eyes widened. “But...but you’ve been shot twice. Are you sure you’re ready? I can handle this.”

  “Like you handled the hostage situation tonight?” Oric shot back.

  The chief bowed his head. “I understand, sir.” He turned to leave. “I will be back in a few minutes to give you the update.”

  “Oh, and captain?”

  Djuricic looked back.

  “Keep this quiet. Only deal with that man.” He indicated the paper in the chief’s hand. “I don’t want the entire Bulgarian Army in on this.”

  “I understand, sir.” He opened the door and left.

  A thoughtful Oric watched him go. He then rolled to the window, looking at his reflection against the darkness outside. He remained like that until the chief rushed in.

  “They shot the plane down!” he almost shouted. “Ball of flames.”

  “Any bodies?”

  Djuricic shrugged. “Too early to tell. The Bulgarians are still on their way to the crash sight.”

  Oric smiled. “Well, at least that’s something. Even if they are alive, it will slow them down.”

  “Slow them down for what, sir?”

  The general snapped a harsh look up. “It doesn’t concern you. Now, get out there and go to the crash site. I’ll be with you shortly. I want to be there when those two are captured.”

  “And you are sure they will let us into their country?”

  “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. We’ll just keep a low profile. The general you called will take care of things on his end. Just gear up. Start heading out there in the choppers. I’ll be along as soon as they bring me my uniform.”

  ~~~

  Majestic oak trees lined the rolling two-lane highway leading to Sofia. Crickets chirped in the muggy night. If it were not for the urgency of the situation, Alina might have enjoyed the run.

  Goran, meanwhile, had slowed down to a walk, limping badly. Eventually he stopped.

  “Hold up,” he said, placing his hands on his knees and letting out a long, deep breath.

  Alina looked back and smiled, jogging in place. “What’s the matter? Out of shape?”

  Goran shook his head. “It’s my knee. It can’t take the pounding. Can’t we just walk for a while?”

  “Sure. I’m getting kind of winded myself.” She grabbed his arm and looked at his watch. “We’ve been running for about thirty minutes. Still no sign of military activity. That’s good, don’t you think?”

  Goran shrugged, breathing heavily. “I hope so, but I wouldn’t count on it. The base is in Sofia. It would take time to organize their men and get here. Just look for headlights. If we see any, we’ll duck into the trees and let them pass.”

  “But we’re still too close to the crash sight. It won’t take them long to discover we’re not there.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I can’t keep up. That landing back there messed my knee up bad. It feels like it’s going to explode any second. I’ve gone about as far as I can.”

  Alina pointed behind them. “I see something.”

  Goran turned. “It can’t be them. It’s one car and it’s coming from the wrong direction. Maybe we can hitch a ride.”

  “Are you sure?” she said.

  “We’ve got no choice. I can’t make it to Sofia like this.” He stuck out his thumb, waiting for the car.

  As it got closer, he saw it was not a car but a truck, a big red semi-trailer with an extended cab. The years and the road had not been kind to it. The paint was faded and chipped in front, covered in bugs, its heavy iron bumper rusted.

  Goran put one foot into the road, holding his thumb higher. The truck slowed down and shuddered to a stop about fifty meters away.

  Goran limped after Alina, who had already made it to the passenger side. She climbed the one-step ladder and opened the door.

  “Do you speak Serbian?” she asked.

  The driver was a crusty man, probably in his late fifties, although he looked much older. His black hair hadn’t seen a comb in months, or a barber for that matter. His face was haggard from too many cigarettes, booze, and time on the road. A potbelly hung over his belt.

  “Do I speak Serbian?” he said. “I am from Serbia. Of course I speak Serbian.”

  “Good. Can you give us a ride? Our plane went down a few miles back and we’re trying to get to Sofia.”

  The driver nodded. “I’m going that direction. Hop in.”

  Goran made it to the door as Alina disappeared inside. “Got room for one more?”

  Alina motioned him inside. Behind her was a bed of sorts. The extended cab was the kind Long Haulers use when they need to stop and get some sleep. She sat on the bunk as Goran groaned inside, a marked contrast to Alina’s nimble ascent.

  “You look hurt,” the driver said.

  “I’m lucky to be alive,” Goran replied. “That plane crash was pretty horrific.”

  “Crash?” The driver looked back at Alina. “You said nothing about a crash.”

  “I said it went down, didn’t I? I just didn’t say how hard.”

  He smiled and looked at Goran. “If you crashed, you are indeed lucky to be alive.”

  The driver jammed the truck into gear and lumbered back onto the road.

  “By the way, my name is Maric. What are your names?”

  “I’m Alina. This is Goran.”

  “What were you doing flying at this hour of the morning?”

  “We, uh, we have an important breakfast meeting scheduled. We wanted to get to Sofia beforehand to kind of freshen up a bit first.”

  Maric nodded as he progressed through the gears. He lit a cigarette, drawing the acrid smoke deep into his lungs. He blew it out and said, “First impressions last a long time. Always good to put the best foot forward in a meeting. I used to be in business for myself. I owned a whole fleet of trucks. Ran them out of Plovdiv, the capital.”

  “What happened?” Alina asked.

  “Went out of business, that’s what happened. The big companies outbid me on all the major hauls. I had to sell my trucks one by one till I only had this baby left. Then I joined them. It was my only option.”

  “Well, you have a lot going for you,” Goran said. “You seem smarter than the average truck driver. I’m sure you’ll bounce back one day.”

  Alina touched Goran on the shoulder and pointed through the windshield. A long line of military vehicles rode past them, heading for the crash sight.

  “They must be looking for you,” Maric said, cutting his eyes at Alina. “Should I stop and let you out?”

  “No!” she said a bit too hastily. “Uh, no. Just keep going. You’re doing fine.”

  They drove for a few minutes before Maric said. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

  “Why do you say that?” Goran said.

  “Don’t insult my intelligence. Now, tell me what’s going on—or should I stop and let the Army ask you?”

  Goran looked back at Alina. “Might as well tell him everything. If he’s going to help us, he deserves to know the truth.”

  Alina started from the beginning with her being raped, her home ravaged. She ended with dumping Oric on the road and hijacking the airplane.

  When she finished, Maric said, “Shot you out of the sky, huh? That sounds like General Oric.”

  Alina looked at him in surprise. “You know him?”

  “Of course I know him. He is notorious in my country. His men have been transporting drugs through Bulgaria and into Serbia for years.”

  “How do you know that?”
/>   “Because I drove a load myself,” he said. He looked at the both of them and returned his gaze to the road. “I didn’t know it at the time, of course. I’m a respectable businessman. But when I got to my destination, only Army personnel were allowed to unload the boxes—Oric’s own personal army. I’d heard of that sort of thing happening with other drivers, men who were all too willing to make the extra mark. But me? I’m never going to make that run again. It’s too risky. If I had been inspected that trip, I’d still be in a Turkish jail.”

  “Why Turkey?”

  “Because that’s where I picked up the trailer. It was already loaded when I got there. All I did was drive it back to Plovdiv. I swear I didn’t know what was in it till I saw his troops loading everything onto another truck.”

  “Where in Turkey?” Alina asked.

  “Istanbul. Why?”

  She slapped the back of Goran’s seat. “It has to be Itsakovic. That’s where Oric is getting his drugs.”

  “Who?” Maric said.

  “Josuf Itsakovic. Do you know him?”

  He shook his head. Then his face brightened. “There was a Serb there when I picked up the trailer. I don’t know, but it could be him.”

  “Could you tell us where in Istanbul you picked it up?”

  Maric gave her a what-do-you-think smirk.

  Alina smiled and looked at Goran. “Well, it looks like he is crooked, just like we thought—and he’s got a partner in this country too. That would explain how that fighter intercepted us so fast.”

  “Maybe we should stay a while,” Goran said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Since we can’t kill him, what better way to hurt him than to steal his money?”

  Alina nodded. “I see what you mean, but where do we start?”

  Maric cut in. “Why not start with the company I drive for? Oric uses it exclusively for all his shipments.”

  Again, Alina and Goran exchanged looks.

  “Look,” Maric said, “I know where the switching station is in Plovdiv and I know what time the shipments come through. I tell you, I can help.”

  “He’s right, Alina,” Goran said. “We could use him.”

  “Okay,” she said and turned to Maric. “Listen, if there’s anything else you can tell us that might be helpful in taking him down, we’d appreciate it.”

  Maric seemed glad to help and was a veritable stream of information from how Oric’s men got their heroin out of Iraq to smuggling it through Bulgarian customs.

  “The Army is involved, so we have to be careful on this,” he concluded. “There’s going to be a lot of guns guarding that heroin.”

  “Then we disarm them,” Alina said.

  “How are we going to disarm an entire squad?” Goran said.

  “I didn’t mean we actually take their guns away. I meant disarm the situation. There should be a way to get in and out without getting into a gunfight.”

  “I’m surprised to hear that coming from a woman who shoots first and doesn’t bother with the questions.”

  “I guess you’re rubbing off on me,” Alina said and smiled. “It’s the new me.”

  “Well, you’re going to find a peaceful way of stealing that trailer of drugs to be difficult,” Maric said. “They’re a surly, non-trusting bunch. If they see anything out of the ordinary, we’re dead.”

  “Let me guess,” she said. “We’re out of the ordinary.”

  Maric nodded. “Especially you. Oric doesn’t employ women, so if you show up they’ll know something is wrong. Plus, there aren’t many women with blonde hair in this country. You’ll have to do something about it.”

  With that, everyone fell silent, listening to the tires pound the road and gentle roar of the diesel engine. Each lost to their own thoughts. For Alina, it was what she was going to do when she saw Oric again. That they would meet was certain—she would make sure of that.

  Chapter 11

  When General Oric exited the helicopter at the crash site, all the soldiers turned and saluted at the captain’s command. He grabbed a hospital cane and hobbled to where Dzadzic stood at attention.

  “What have you got for me, Captain?”

  “Not much, sir. The missile completely destroyed the aircraft. Nothing left larger than a notebook.”

  “Any bodies?”

  The captain shook his head. “In this carnage, that’s not to be expected. The bodies would have vaporized on impact.”

  “Then how do you explain this?” The police chief walked up, thumping his chest. He held the parachute in his hand. “I found this. Me, Chief Djuricic. I found it over there about a hundred meters away.”

  “Good work, Djuricic,” Oric said. “Maybe you are of some use after all.”

  Oric turned away, thinking aloud. “So they got away, did they? They would be on foot, probably injured if they shared the parachute. That means they can’t be far.” He turned back. “But if only one of them used it, then the other is dead. So we have two scenarios, both of which leave us with a quarry to kill.”

  “General? General Oric? I’d like a word with you.” A short, round man with a huge mustache walked toward the general. His bald head was ringed with short, fuzzy hair. He wore a Bulgarian Army general’s uniform.

  “Yes, Pavel. What can I do for you?”

  The minute general stiffened. “In front of my men, you will address me as General.”

  Oric frowned his disdain. “Okay, General Dimitrov. What can I do for you?”

  “What right do you have sending a police chief into my country to do a soldier’s work? You mentioned nothing about him.” He pointed to Djuricic.

  “Don’t worry about him, General. We’ve got bigger problems. You remember the man and woman I told you I was looking for?”

  Dimitrov nodded.

  “It seems they are still alive—one of them, at least. And if we cannot find a shoe, a piece of clothing, or a body in this wreckage, that means they are both still alive and in your country. I’d say you need all the help you can get. Let my men do the menial work and sift through this garbage. That way your men can focus on the important issue, like finding them.”

  General Dimitrov nodded. He seemed to like playing the role of an important man. He looked at the mixture of Serbs and Bulgarians milling about, heads down, examining every piece of carnage that was not burning. He then turned back to Oric and pronounced, “I have decided. My men will pursue your criminals. If they are such a threat to you, they are a threat to me.” He paused. After a moment’s thought, he then added, “Uh, where should I look?”

  Oric turned and rolled his eyes. How he hated dealing with lesser intellects. “Why don’t you check the roads leading to Sofia?” he retorted. “Fan out on both sides of the road. Look in the ditches and the surrounding forest. Also, have some men drive straight to Sofia. The woman should be easy to find in your country. She is blonde with short hair. Last I saw her, she was wearing jeans and a yellow top that had been sliced open at the chest.”

  Dimitrov nodded and left.

  “Moron!” Oric said aloud, but not so loud that the general could hear. He looked at the still smiling Chief Djuricic.

  “Your men will stay here and continue to sweep the area,” he ordered. “That way you’ll stay out of sight. We can’t have a bunch of Serb policemen walking around the city. When you are finished, call me and report. Based on what you find, we’ll go from there.” He looked at his stout captain. “I will go into the city itself. I don’t trust Dimitrov to find his own mother. Did your men bring the change of clothes I ordered?”

  Captain Dzadzic nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Have them change now. We should pass off as citizens as long as nobody starts asking us too many questions. Put a chopper in the air and look for any vehicles heading for the city. If they find one, they are to stop and search it.”

  Dzadzic saluted. “It shall be done as you command, General. I will take charge of the air search myself.” Then he left, leaving Oric
with the chief.

  “What are you waiting for?” Oric yelled at Chief Djuricic, who still held a smile on his face. “Get to work.”

  The chief dropped the chute and hurried off in the direction of his men, barking orders loud enough for Oric to hear.

  General Oric hobbled back to his military helicopter and hoisted himself into the passenger seat. He said to the pilot, “Let’s go.”

  “Where to, sir?”

  “Sofia. I want to be there if they find her.”

  Goran Bratislav did not matter. All Oric cared about was finding that woman who had caused him so much pain.

  ~~~

  Alina, Goran, and Maric were still ten kilometers from Sofia when a military helicopter buzzed the truck. It whirled 180 degrees and touched down in front of them, blocking the road. Maric was hard pressed to stop the big rig in time.

  Alina said, “Uh-oh. This means trouble.”

  “Quick!” Goran said to Alina. “Get underneath the cot. Cover yourself with these old clothes.”

  “Yuck! They smell like a yak.”

  “Hey,” Maric said with a smile, “that’s my laundry.” He looked at Goran, the smile gone. “You play it dumb. Don’t speak a word. I’ll do the talking. Got that?”

  Four men dressed in black jumped from the chopper’s landing skid and ran toward them. They looked like civilians with their sweaters and trousers, but their AK-47 rifles said otherwise. They were military and they surrounded the truck cab.

  “Get out!” the captain ordered. “Get out of the truck!”

  Maric and Goran complied.

  Three men went to work looking inside the cab while the captain held guard over Maric and Goran.

  “See anything?” Dzadzic called out.

  “Nothing,” a muffled voice replied.

  “Where are you going?” the captain asked Maric.

  “We’re on our way to Sofia. I’ve got a shipment of building supplies to deliver.”

  “Open up it up.”

  Maric walked to the back of the trailer and opened the doors. The captain took out his flashlight and peered inside. He jumped into the trailer and looked around the neatly stacked boxes. Satisfied, he jumped back down. He then went to the cab. The other three soldiers were standing to the side.