Alina's Revenge

by Greg Van Arsdale

  “What’s that?”

  “Itsakovic won’t like someone calling him and demanding payment for drugs he’s already paid for. A man like that has a lot of gun power to back him up. A man like Itsakovic can’t stay hidden from the Hague for ten years without some heavy muscle protecting him—probably political, too.”

  “He’s just like every other businessman,” Maric said. “So he has to take a loss on the deal. In the end, he still gets his drugs back.”

  Alina shook her head, leaning further forward. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  Maric leaned in face-to-face. “No, I guess I don’t.”

  “I’m not going across the border with that heroin, and that’s final.”

  “Fine by me. You can just stay here while I go. I made it before, and I’ll make it through again.”

  “But you can’t find Itsakovic without me,” she said.

  “I can always take that phone from you.”

  “Try it.”

  They sat in silence, staring at each other. The waitress brought their food and Maric dug into it like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Alina sat and watched him, thinking.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” he said. “It’s a long way to Istanbul.”

  “How long before we reach the border?”

  Maric chewed his mouthful and answered with a stuffed cheek. “It’s not far. Why?”

  “Oh, just wondering.”

  She began nibbling at her plate in silence. When they finished, Alina said, “You’ve got the money, you pay the check. I’ll be outside.”

  As predicted, Maric had a tough time cashing a thousand-mark bill. Alina walked to the trailer. She looked back to see him gesturing with what must have been the manager. Then she opened the tailgate and went inside. She was out and had the gate closed before Maric left the restaurant.

  He pushed the door open and came out in a huff. He climbed into the cab. Alina followed.

  “Stupid Bulgarians,” he said as he slammed the door. “Act like they’ve never seen a thousand-mark bill.”

  “Probably because they haven’t. Most people aren’t as rich as you.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Got that right!” He started the rig and pulled back onto the highway. “We’re going to cross over at Svilengrad, and then into Edime—that’s in Turkey. We’ll bed down there for the night. Tomorrow, Istanbul.”A car pulled beside him, the driver honking his horn. Maric glanced at him. “What does he want?”

  The driver kept pointing behind them, shouting something Maric could not understand. Finally, over the roar of the engine and rushing wind, he made out the word, “Fire!”

  Maric checked the side mirror. Smoke flowed from the trailer.

  Frantically, Maric hit the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. Both of them got out.

  Other horns blared as cars passed by.

  They ran to the back of the truck. Maric tried opening the trailer gate. He came away fast, shaking his hands. He ran to the cab and came back with his coat, which he used as insulation to open the gate.

  Bad idea.

  As soon as fresh oxygen entered the trailer, the fire whooshed out in a giant pillar of flames. Maric stumbled back, his hair singed and eyebrows missing.

  “The cab!” Alina shouted above the roar of the inferno. “We’ve got to get the cab away from the fire.”

  Maric ran forward. After disengaging the air lines, he dropped to the ground and started cranking the support posts down. It seemed he could not move fast enough. Twice, his hands slipped off the handle.

  The fire ate through the thin metal skin and approached the front of the trailer.

  “Hurry!” Alina said.

  “I am hurrying! It wouldn’t hurt if you helped, you know.”

  “What can I do?”

  Maric did not answer. He just kept cranking after the posts hit the pavement, raising the front of the trailer high enough for him to disengage the cab.

  He climbed in and edged the truck away from the billowing flames. He stopped fifty meters from the now totally engulfed trailer. Even here, the heat was almost too much to bear. Alina stepped back. Maric seemed oblivious, stomping his feet and kicking at the roadway.

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this!” he shouted.

  Then he stopped. He turned toward Alina and came at her, pointing his finger in her face. “You! You did this.”

  Her voice remained calm. “I told you, I am not crossing that border with a truckload of heroin.”

  “A truck...” His voice trailed off as he turned, pulling his hair. “A truck of heroin? I told you I could get us across.”

  “And I didn’t believe you. Listen, Maric. That heroin is like plutonium. Anyone who touches it will die. You may not know it, but I just saved your life.”

  “Saved my life? You just cost me a hundred million marks!”

  “Well, we can’t do anything about it now. I say we move on before the police get here.”

  He started toward her, his fist raised. “I’m going to bash your face in!”

  Alina easily slipped under his swooping right hand, caught it, turned him around and slammed him into the back of the cab.

  He came off the greasy hitch with eyes glaring. Again, he rushed her. Alina sidestepped his charging bulk, spun his arm behind his back, and took him face first into the pavement.

  “Now, you can play nice or I can leave you here. Which one will it be?” she asked.

  When he didn’t respond, she twisted his arm harder.

  “Okay. Okay! I’ll take you into Turkey. Now let me go.”

  Alina backed off, watching him carefully.

  Maric sat on the ground, arms resting on both knees, his head bowed. Slowly, he nodded. “Figures. I should have thought you would try something like this.”

  Alina said nothing, just crossed her arms and leaned against the rear tires.

  “You know I was going to split the money with you fifty-fifty,” Maric said. “You could have been a rich woman.”

  “I don’t need money where I’m going.”

  “Good!” He came off the ground in a hurry. “Because now I’m keeping the briefcase all to myself.”

  “Fine by me. Can we go now?”

  Maric stared at her a moment, then walked toward the driver’s side door. Alina climbed in before he could take off. He took the briefcase and tucked it into the wall space behind the bed, covering it up with clothes.

  They drove in silence to the border.

  “Passports, please,” the guard said.

  Maric handed him both passports. The guard looked at them. He then gazed at Alina and Maric without expression then handed them back.

  “Anything to declare?”

  Maric shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “What?”

  “I said, not anymore. We dumped our load in Plovdiv. Now, we’re on our way to Istanbul to pick up another one.”

  “Would you mind stepping outside?”

  Alina and Maric obeyed. The station guard did a cursory inspection of the cab and climbed down.

  “Okay, you can go.”

  After they pulled away from the border crossing, Maric said, “See? I told you there wasn’t going to be any problems.”

  “That’s because we weren’t hauling a rig behind us. If we still had that trailer, we’d be back there wondering if they were going to find our stash.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know it now.”

  Thirty minutes later, they pulled into Edime, a small rural town that barely registered on the map. Maric drove slowly, approaching a motel just off the main road.

  “It’s not much, but it will do.”

  “Hope you got change back there at the restaurant,” Alina said.

  “Yes, I got change. And yes, I’ll pay for the rooms. You just stay put till I get back.”

  He left, slamming the door. No sooner had he gone than the door flew open again. He climbed into the back, reached behin
d the bed, and pulled out the briefcase. Then he climbed down and slammed the door again. Alina smiled as she watched him walk to the registration desk with the money tucked beneath one arm.

  Chapter 20

  Alina did not sleep that night. She expected Maric would try to leave without her. That is exactly what tried to do at five o’clock in the morning. She noticed him walking quickly to the truck. Still dressed from the night before, she ran to meet him before he could get in.

  He had just grabbed the handrail when she asked, “Going somewhere?”

  Maric whipped around as if stung. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I told you I would get you to Turkey, and that’s just what I did. Our arrangement is over. Contract terminated. Ever since you burned up all my potential earnings, I have no interest in going any farther with you.”

  “I can understand that. Mind if I have some cash to get me the rest of the way there?”

  He laughed, climbing the first step. “I thought you didn’t need money.”

  “I don’t need much. Just enough to get me there.”

  “What about getting back?”

  “I’m not coming back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means this is the end of the line for me. I’ve nothing left to live for after this. I’m not coming back.”

  Maric regarded her a moment, then shook his head. “Get your own money. What I’ve got is mine.”

  “Want to bet?”

  She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and threw him to the ground. She stood in front of the cab door. He rolled and pulled his gun. Alina backed off.

  Maric left the briefcase on the ground as he rose. “I figured you would try something like that so I had this ready. I must admit, you’re pretty good with all that martial arts stuff. You’re fast, but there’s no one faster than a bullet.” He looked at the white bag she was carrying. “What’s that?”

  “Just something I borrowed from the laundry. It’s a pillow case to carry my guns and money with.”

  “Judging by the bulge, I presume your gun is already in there?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, then.” He smiled. “Looks like we’re going to have a one-way conversation. Now, get away from that door.”

  “I don’t think so. Like I said, I need some money. Just a few marks. That’s all I ask.”

  “We’ve already had this conversation. The answer is still no. Now, get away or do I have to shoot you?”

  “Come on, Maric. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Hurt me? Lady, I have the gun!”

  “I keep telling you men. I am no lady!” Alina slung the bag laden with hard steel at his gun. His deflected shot went wide. It pierced the driver’s side window and scarred the windshield.

  She stepped forward and with a swooping kick knocked the gun out of his hand. Maric’s eyes went wide. He went for the gun now laying on the ground four meters away. Alina stepped in his path. As he knelt for the weapon, she raised a knee to his face.

  Maric fell on his back, his nose bloodied. He felt his leg, going for a second gun tucked in an ankle holster.

  Alina was on him in a second. With one foot, she stepped on his hand. With the other, she kicked him in the head.

  Maric flopped on the ground, unconscious.

  Alina ignored the briefcase. She reached into his back pocket and took his wallet, taking out the smaller bills.

  She said, “I don’t think you will miss this.”

  Tossing the wallet on him, she walked to the highway and stuck out a thumb. It was not long before a driver stopped.

  “Do you speak Bosnian?” she said.

  The man shook his head and raised his palms. He said something back to her, presumably in Turkish. Alina shook her head. She was about to walk away when the man motioned her into the car anyway. He spoke and smiled a friendly smile. Alina shrugged and pointed down the road.

  “Istanbul,” she said.

  The driver spoke again, nodding his head.

  They drove about four hours while she listened to him talk gibberish. Not having slept the night before, she leaned her head against the window to rest her eyes.

  She woke up at the sensation of something on her leg. She brushed it off with a jerk. It was the man’s hand.

  “What is it with you men?” she said. “You see a woman and think you can own her?”

  The man smiled his apologies, always a smile.

  Alina saw a sign written in multiple languages and thought she was in Istanbul. She signaled him to stop the car. He spoke to her again, indicating down the highway. Against her better judgment, Alina rode with him a while longer. When she was certain she had reached her destination, she once again signed for him to stop.

  Again, he smiled and indicated forward.

  Alina reached into her bag and pulled out her gun. The man stopped the car.

  She got out and watched him speed away. The tone of his voice and the gesture with his hand were not friendly.

  She decided it was best to find Itsakovic and move on. No sense waiting around and getting into trouble like she did with Oric.

  She pulled out Oric’s cell phone and looked through the registry. Finding the name she wanted, she pushed the button. A man’s voice answered in Turkish.

  Alina said, “Do you know who this is?”

  A pause on the phone. Then he said, “This is the girl who should have died ten years ago. The woman who has caused me a lot of trouble.”

  “No, this is the woman who’s offering your shipment of heroin back.”

  “My heroin? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Oh, so you don’t know about an unmarked trailer sitting at a warehouse in Plovdiv. You don’t know about a gunfight and how the people who killed all your men escaped with the trailer. You don’t know about the ten million marks hidden in a safe.”

  Another long pause. “What do you want?”

  “I want money, what else? Where can we meet?”

  “How about Gulhane Park? It is a good place. Lots of open space. That way, I can see you coming from a long way off.”

  “Okay. Just you and me. No bodyguards.”

  “What would I need a bodyguard for? Against a woman? I don’t think so.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Alina hung up the phone. She hailed a taxi and said, “Airport.”

  The driver looked at her with a bewildered frown. Alina made the sign and sound of a flying plane. He nodded his head and she got in.

  Once there, she found a locker in which to store her sack of weapons—with the exception of her Glock. That she tucked into her back waistband and covered with her jacket. Then it was off to find another taxi.

  Gulhane Park, the biggest park in Istanbul, filled in the middle of the city. It covered thousands of acres. How would she ever find Itsakovic?

  She sat down on a bench to scan the faces as they went by. Some kids were playing football nearby. A couple walked their dog past her. The man kept looking her way. Alina rolled her eyes then smiled when the woman punched him in the ribs.

  After an hour, Alina pulled out Oric’s phone just as a man dressed in tan slacks and matching coat walked by. She looked at him, then glanced at him again. Her breath caught in her chest.

  “Itsakovic,” she called.

  The man ignored her and kept walking.

  She stood and called again, “Itsakovic!”

  Still, the man kept walking.

  Thinking she must have been wrong about who the man was, she sat down on the bench. Five minutes later, the same man dressed in tan came back. This time, he spoke.

  “What is your name?”

  She looked up. “Alina.”

  “So you’re the girl who would not die.”

  She pulled the handle of her gun out far enough for him to see. “Let’s go for a walk where we can talk in private.”

  “Come, come now, Alina. You didn’t really think I would come here alone, did yo
u?”

  Alina suddenly noticed five men behind her. “And I thought you weren’t afraid of a woman.”

  He smiled. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “I can still kill you before they kill me.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t bet on that. These men are the best money can buy. They’re very good at what they do. You’ll be dead before you can get that gun out of your waistband. How long do you think it will take you to get that gun out and shoot me? My men already have their guns trained on you. The slightest move on your part will be your last. You can trust me on that.”

  Alina dropped her head. She knew she was at the disadvantage.

  “Good,” Itsakovic said. “Now, if you would be so kind as to hand your gun to one of my men.”

  Alina slowly took out her weapon and held it over her shoulder. A man took it from her.

  “Now let’s go for a little ride, shall we?” It was all so polite except for the guns pointed at her, all of them concealed in coats or folded clothing.

  She rose and walked beside him as if nothing was wrong.

  “I take it that since you have my phone number, you killed Oric.” He held out his hand. She handed him the phone.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you did me a favor. Now, if you tell me what I want to know, you just may walk out of this alive—given that we do not meet again.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Get into the car. We need to talk in private.” He opened the door of a black limo that pulled up in front of them.

  Alina obeyed and got in.

  Itsakovic followed her and closed the door. Then he pulled his own gun out and held it on her.

  “Let’s start with: where is my heroin?”

  “It’s in a safe place. You didn’t think I would bring a box of drugs with me to the park, did you?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No. Not at all.”

  “Then what’s this ‘let’s take a ride?’ Why not just talk in the park?”

  “Like I said, I want a private conversation.” He held up Oric’s phone. “Since you have this, I must assume you know the rest of the people in my organization.”

  “Most of the men who raped me and killed my family are dead,” she said. “That was all I cared about. I may have seen other names, but I don’t know their numbers or where they live.”