Alina's Revenge

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Alina's Revenge Page 15

by Greg Van Arsdale


  Alina was unaware she had stopped breathing. She sighed deeply, turned around, and puttered down the lane. Goran brought up the rear.

  ~~~

  The brakes squealed as Alina pulled into Doctor Gruev’s driveway a few minutes later. Goran headed around the house to park out back.

  She entered the front door to see Maric sitting up, drinking vodka and laughing with the good doctor.

  “Well, it seems you’re feeling better,” she said.

  He nodded. “Much. Old Doc here has pulled my fat out of the fire more than once.”

  “Yes, he mentioned that.”

  Maric looked at his friend. “Oh, he did, did he?” Then they both laughed.

  Goran came in. “We have a bit of a problem.”

  All laughter died.

  “What sort of problem?” Maric asked.

  “There was a policeman there. Alina put him down, but not before he called it in. They know we took the truck.”

  Maric shook his head. “Shouldn’t be too much of a deal. White cabs are very common around here, the most popular color there is.”

  “Well, right now we have both of them parked in the Doc’s back yard. That trailer is hard to hide. We can’t stay here long.”

  Doctor Gruev cut in. “Maric needs rest. At least a couple of days.”

  “Fine,” Alina said. “So what do we do in the meantime?”

  “Move my cab,” Maric said. “We get rid of that and anyone snooping won’t think twice about us.”

  “We’ll have to wait till nightfall. We can’t risk driving it during the day.”

  Maric’s head bowed. “It’s a shame to lose that old truck of mine. It’s been my home for many years.”

  “And now it’s an albatross,” Alina said. “We’ve got to ditch it, but where?”

  “I know just the place,” Doc said. “Wait until dark and dump it at the old ball bearing plant. It’s closed now and isolated. It will take them a while to find it there.” He gave them directions. The plant was just a few kilometers away.

  “And in the meantime do we just wait here and do nothing?” Alina asked. “With every cop in the city looking for us—and now a white truck—I don’t feel safe just sitting around.”

  “You’ll have to, my dear. Maric can’t drive in this condition. Sure, he may seem fine now, but put strain on that wound and he’ll break open again. Liable to bleed to death before you reach the border.”

  “The border?” Goran’s head snapped around. “Who said anything about a border?”

  Maric said, “I did. I figure we head for the Turkish border and get rid of these guys for good.”

  Goran stepped closer. “Are you crazy? We can’t take a truck full of heroin across the border. First, don’t forget those Turkish prisons. Second, we don’t have passports. There’s no way we could get across even if we wanted to.”

  “Ah! Now that’s where you must leave things to old Maric. I still have a few tricks left. The first of which is producing passports when I need them.”

  “And just how do you propose to do that? We don’t have any money.”

  Maric showed them the keys he had taken from the dead dockworker. “Don’t forget these. There’s a safe hidden somewhere in that trailer, a safe that holds a lot of money—a lot of money. I say we find it, and while the passports are being made, we hide here and let me heal. By the time they’re done, I’ll be ready to go. Shouldn’t take but a day or two, less if we pay him more. Surely, you can hold your breath that long.”

  Alina asked, “And just where do you get your passports when you need them? I thought you said you were an honest businessman.”

  He looked at Doc and smiled. “I have had my occasions when I skirted the wrong side of the law. None so grand as this, mind you, but I have had to produce a fake passport or two. The man I know who makes them doesn’t come cheap, but with what’s in that safe, we don’t have to worry about money.”

  Alina shook her head. “I’m tired of running. If that means we have to make our stand here against Oric, then so be it, but I have no intention to sell the drugs in Turkey.”

  “Who said anything about selling the drugs?” Maric said.

  “You did, when you mentioned taking the trailer across the border. There would only be one answer for why you would want to do that.”

  “And what’s wrong with making a hundred million marks?”

  “I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t involve us. Goran and I will have no part in it.” She looked at Goran. “Isn’t that right?”

  He nodded vigorously. “Definitely. I’m no criminal.”

  Maric’s face flushed. He came out of his chair, caught himself in mid-rise holding his side, and then faced Goran. “Who are you calling a criminal?”

  “You, if you go through with this asinine plan of yours,” Goran said. He stood face-to-face with the old man in silence. Maric began to shake with the effort of standing. He returned to his chair, slumping to one side and picked up his glass of vodka. He finished it in one gulp.

  “Fine!” he said. “Have it your way. So what do you have in mind?”

  Alina said, “The way I see it, there’s only one way to escape Oric and that’s to kill him. We’ll never be free as long as he’s alive.”

  “Kill him?” Doctor Gruev asked. He came to the edge of his seat and looked at Maric. “You didn’t say anything about killing a man.”

  “Don’t look at me. I was in favor of going to Turkey. They’re the ones who want to kill him.”

  Doc looked at Alina. “Why do you want to kill him? Couldn’t you just use the passports to immigrate to another country where he could never find you?”

  “Ten years ago, he raped me and killed my family.”

  “Yes, but kill him? If you want to stop him, just have him arrested.”

  Alina shook her head. “Not with this one. He escaped the justice system for ten years. Instead of going to jail, they made him a general! And like I said, he’s the one trying to kill us. If we kill Oric, this manhunt stops and Goran and I can get on with our lives without having to look over our shoulder. We’ll never be safe as long as that man is alive. Right now, Oric is our number one target.”

  “She’s right,” Goran said. “He’s the one driving all this. He’s the one we should go after.”

  Doc sat back in his chair, shaking his head.

  “Oh, and just how do you expect to find him?” Maric said. “This is the biggest city in Bulgaria.”

  “We start with the most expensive hotels,” Alina said. “Oric wouldn’t stay in a cheap one.” She turned her gaze on Doc. “Where do you think someone like Oric would hole up?”

  He thought a minute. “Not sure I should tell you. I don’t want to be an accomplice to murder.”

  “It’s not murder. It’s revenge.”

  “You can try to justify it by any way you want, but killing is murder any way you look at it.”

  Maric cut in. “Try the Novotel Hotel. It’s got a five-star rating. Best one in town. That would be my guess.”

  “Okay. Doc, where’s your phone book?”

  “By the phone, where else?”

  Alina walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll try the hotels. Goran, you look for the safe. Get the money. Then we get those passports. We’re going to need them to make our getaway.”

  “Who are you to give orders?” Maric shouted. “I’m in charge here!”

  Alina stopped and faced him. “Since when did Goran and I give you charge over our lives?”

  “The second you climbed into my cab, that’s when. I know this country, you don’t. I know how to get the passports, you don’t. I know the best place to cross the border, you don’t. So do not speak to me like I am some underling.”

  Alina rolled her eyes. “Fine. And just what would you have us do?”

  Maric thought, then nodded. “What you said is okay with me. I will allow it.”

  “Oh, so you’ll allow it. That is so nice of you.” Alina’s voic
e dripped with sarcasm. Passing by Goran, she gave him a warning shake of the head. Goran seemed to be thinking the same thing about Maric as he nodded slightly. How much could they really trust this man, especially now with so much money involved?

  That night, Goran and Alina got rid of the red cab. Maric had told them how to unhitch the trailer. The directions Doctor Gruev gave them to the ball bearing plant were easy to follow.

  They returned to find Maric in the trailer.

  “Can we help?” Alina asked.

  Maric spun around as if he had been stung. “Uh, no. I’ve got it covered.”

  Alina and Goran climbed into the trailer anyway.

  “I said I’ve got it covered!”

  “So you said,” Goran replied. “Doesn’t hurt to have help though. We are in this together, are we not?”

  Maric paused, looking at the younger man. He nodded with tight lips and went back to work, opening and inspecting each of the myriads of boxes. Most of them were machine and engine parts, a decoy in case they were inspected.

  “Found the heroin,” Alina said.

  Maric inspected the package. “What you are looking at, my friends, is 200 million marks in a box.”

  “That’s worth 200 million marks?” Alina said.

  Maric nodded. “If sold to the right people it is. And I know just who to sell it to.”

  Goran and Alina once again exchanged the same look of growing mistrust.

  After thirty more minutes of searching, Maric was covered in sweat. A spot of blood appeared on the side of his new shirt.

  “You’d better get inside,” Alina said. “You’re done in.”

  Maric shook his head. “That’s my money.”

  “Our money,” Goran corrected.

  Maric paused. “Yes, yes. Our money. Silly mistake. Excuse me, I’m not myself today.”

  They finally found it buried in the far right corner in a plain cardboard box. Maric inserted the key to find a single brief case. He opened it.

  “Oh, my God!” he said. He thumbed through the stacks of cash. After counting the number of stacks, he pronounced, “There’s ten million marks in here.”

  Goran gave a soft whistle.

  Alina just looked, nodded, and headed for the exit. “Good,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here. I’m hungry.”

  The two men followed her. Maric tucked the briefcase firmly under one arm. He hesitated at the end of the trailer. With his wound, he needed both hands to navigate to the ground.

  “Here,” Goran said, holding out a hand, “let me have the briefcase so you can climb down.”

  “No!” Maric turned away. “I can manage.”

  Goran shrugged and left him alone, following Alina to the house.

  Doc had the evening meal going and it smelled good. They were already eating by the time Maric came into the house. Grass covered his pants and shirt.

  “I told you to let me help you,” Goran said.

  Maric frowned. He winced when he sat down, holding his side. Still, he kept the briefcase in his lap.

  “Don’t worry. We won’t steal it,” Alina sneered. “You don’t have to hold it so tight.”

  “I worked hard for this money. Forty years I slaved on the highways. I earned this. What have you done?”

  “Well, for starters, you wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for us,” Goran said.

  Maric was about to retort when Alina cut in, changing the conversation. “When do we go see the passport guy?”

  Maric continued to glare at Goran and said, “Tomorrow morning. The heat on us should be dying down about now. We should have no problem making it across town.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Depends on how much we offer him.”

  “Then I suggest we offer him a lot,” Alina said. “We’re in a hurry. I want Oric dead and us out of here by this time tomorrow.”

  Maric just grunted and shoved a mouthful of stew into his mouth.

  Chapter 17

  At daybreak, a single man got off a private jet at the Plovdiv Airport. He was clean shaven and dressed in solid black—a polo shirt, pants, and black military boots. He walked to a waiting limousine and got inside. A man sat in the opposite seat looking pensive. The driver closed the door, casting the cabin into dim light.

  “How was your flight, Mr. Castle?” the second man asked, his beard trembling slightly.

  Castle nodded but said nothing.

  “Here is the package you asked for.”

  Castle opened a thick briefcase to find a disassembled sniper kit: a military grade scope, barrel, silencer, two clips, and black stock all held neatly in place by form-fitting foam lining. The second man handed him a box of ammunition.

  “Good,” he said. “Where is he?”

  “At the Novotel Hotel. Room 601, the presidential suite.”

  Castle looked out the tinted window as the driver exited the gate. “Figures.” He kept looking out the window and said, “I need a place to test it, calibrate the scope. You know of a place, yes?”

  “Yes, I do. Outside of town. There’s a clearing in a patch of woods. The trees will block any noise. You can practice in complete anonymity.”

  Castle nodded. “Good. Take me there.”

  “What, now?”

  “Yes, I want to go there now.”

  The man turned and backhanded a knock on the front seat separator window. The window rolled down.

  “Take us to the clearing,” the man said.

  The driver nodded and raised the window, ensuring their privacy, but there was no need. No other words were spoken the rest of the trip.

  The driver pulled off onto a dirt rut, parking the car about 200 meters off the main road.

  Castle opened the door and got out, carrying the briefcase. He looked around, his cold dark eyes settling on a fallen tree. He reached into his pants pocket and produced a playing card, which he wedged into a split in the log.

  Without a word, he marked off 100 meters. There, he opened the case and assembled the rifle. He inserted the clip and chambered a round. He then sprawled on the ground into firing position, bracing the stock with his left hand.

  He made small adjustments with the scope, steadied his breathing and squeezed the trigger. The rifle made a small poof, followed by the card spinning off the log.

  They walked to the target.

  “Great shot, Mr. Castle!” the man said. “You hit it.”

  Castle shook his head, holding up the card for the man to see. “Sights are off. Missed the center by ten centimeters.”

  “But that’s still a good shot.”

  Castle placed another card into the crack in the tree trunk. “At 200 meters, I would have missed entirely.”

  He walked back to his firing position and made minute adjustments to the side scope dial.

  He fired.

  Center target.

  “You did it, Mr. Castle. You did it!” The man clapped his hands.

  Castle said nothing. He walked back another hundred meters and settled into firing position once more. He made the necessary adjustments to the scope’s top dial, let out his breath, and fired.

  Center target.

  The man applauded again.

  Castle handed him another playing card. “Go down there and hold this card up.”

  “Uh, do what?”

  “You heard me. I want you to hold this card up level with your head. Then I want you to walk to the side of the clearing.”

  “But...but I...I’m not sure—”

  Castle leveled the rifle hip high at the man. “Do it or you’re dead. Right now, you’re of no other use to me.”

  The man walked rapidly to the end of the clearing, often glancing over his shoulder. He stood by the tree trunk. His hand shook as he held out the card.

  “Hold still!” Castle yelled across the distance.

  The man held the card with both hands, but the card still shook.

  “Walk!”

  The man hesitated and then too
k a small step. He paused, then took another, and another until he was slowly making his way across the clearing.

  Castle fired.

  The man yelped and jumped back, checking his fingers. Satisfied, he picked up the card.

  Center target.

  Castle disassembled the rifle and repacked it in the brief case. He walked past the visibly shaken man and said, “Let’s go.”

  ~~~

  Maric, Goran, and Alina exited a rundown office in a seedy side of town. Maric held the briefcase tightly under one arm.

  “One hundred thousand marks?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “One hundred thousand marks? Are you crazy?”

  “Relax,” Alina said. “There’s still plenty left for you.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t even negotiate with the man. I mean, one hundred thou—”

  “We heard you; we heard you,” Goran said. “But like the man said, it costs more when we’re in a hurry. And we are. He said he would have them ready at five. To me, that’s blazing speed.”

  “He probably has some already made up. All he has to do is paste our pictures in them. And for that you give him one hundred thousand marks? I’m telling you now, it’s coming out of your share. I’m not paying that much for a passport.”

  “Fine by us,” Alina said. “And I’ll give you another hundred thousand if you shut up!”

  They got into Doc’s car, Goran behind the wheel. They missed the turn going back to the house.

  “Where are we going?” Maric asked.

  “Saw a used car lot down here the yesterday. Figured we need a new car for when we go after Oric.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with this one?”

  “For starters, it’s going to be tagged the minute we come out of the building. I don’t want any of this coming back on Doc. Second, the car almost didn’t start when we picked up the truck. I don’t want that happening again.”

  It took them less than an hour to buy a three-year-old 2000 Hyundai, its black color perfect for a nighttime job. Alina and Goran drove the car home while Maric took Doc’s car.

 

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