Russia Girl

by Kenneth Rosenberg

  “You have me all figured out, don’t you?” He laughed lightly.

  “Not quite,” she said. “But I’d like to.”

  When they’d finished dinner, Multinovic rose from his seat and carried the plates to the kitchen. “There’s still some cake left if you’d like it.” He looked back at her. “Though I suspect you’ll be wanting to return to your family.”

  “I’m not in a huge hurry,” Natalia replied. Of course he was right. She should get back to the hotel, yet she was loathe to go. She yearned to stay with him for as long as she could. This swell of emotion caught her off guard, but there was no denying it. Natalia lifted the empty wine glasses from the table and moved close, leaning around him to place them in the sink. They faced one another, their bodies inches apart, held in place by an unmistakable magnetism that made the hairs on her forearm stand on end. “It’s a shame you didn’t teach me to dance,” she said quietly. When he didn’t move away, Natalia placed her hands on either side of his waist and stared into his eyes for a few long seconds.

  “I never was much of a dancer.” Multinovic was frozen in place.

  “I doubt that.” Natalia slid her arms around his back and leaned close. She’d tried to fight it, for months she’d been trying, but that battle was lost.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Is that what you think this is?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Then don’t,” she answered. “Don’t think at all.”

  She felt his hands on her hips and knew there was no turning back. He closed his eyes and their lips came together, brushing softly as his strong arms embraced her. She’d wanted this for so long, and now Natalia simply let go, losing herself to the swirling emotions of desire.

  Chapter Thirty

  The sun was already up when Natalia awoke with Multinovic’s arm draped over her. The bliss was hard to shake, but she looked to the clock on his bedside table. It was six-thirty. As much as she wanted to stay forever in his embrace, she knew that she had to get back to the hotel. She never should have stayed away from her family for so long. Sliding out from under the covers, she moved across the room. Multinovic opened his eyes and watched her naked body in the morning light, for the first and likely the last time.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Did I wake you? I’m sorry that I have to leave so early.” She paused in the bathroom doorway. She liked being naked in front of him. It felt natural. She liked the way he seemed to appreciate it, taking her in from head to toe, his gaze pausing on her every curve. It was enough to leave her just a little bit heartbroken that this beginning also had to be an end. Was it better to have come so late than to not have come at all? She didn’t have time to contemplate such questions. Today was too important a day to be distracted.

  Natalia turned and moved into the bathroom. She showered quickly and then toweled herself off before retrieving her old clothes from the office. When she was dressed, she tucked her gun back into her waistband and laced up her shoes. In the kitchen she met Multinovic, who stood in his pajama pants holding the red dress and stiletto heels in a plastic bag. “Don’t forget these. They’re a gift, you know.”

  “I couldn’t. You’ve done so much already.”

  “Believe me, I’m not going to wear them.”

  Natalia laughed and then took the bag from his hands. “Thank you, then. Though I don’t know when I’ll have the chance to ever wear them again.”

  “You never know,” he said. “Care for some coffee?”

  “No, I’d better get going.”

  “Yes. Yes, I understand…”

  They stood facing one another, the bittersweet aftermath of their night together hanging between them. Multinovic leaned forward to kiss her on the nose. “You know how much I care for you. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

  Natalia grabbed him around the small of his back and pulled him close. “If you’re worried that last night might come between us somehow, don’t. There’s really no point.”

  “No, I suppose not.” He took her in his arms.

  Natalia planted her lips against his in a long, last passionate kiss. When she finally came up for air they held each other for a few moments more, her head against his shoulder. “I really do need to go,” she said finally before releasing her grasp.

  “Good luck.”

  “Good bye. Thank you for everything.” She hurried through the door to the foyer, looking back one last time to see him watching with sad eyes. The door closed behind her and she moved through the next, on out to the street.

  Outside, the air was brisk and the ground covered with a thin crust of frost. Her shoes made a crunching sound as she walked up the sidewalk, past the other abandoned warehouses and on toward the center of town. On the main road through the village Natalia saw a fresh set of tire tracks. They were large and wide. The tires knobby and new. Nobody in Drosti had a car like that. She picked up her pace. Her fears swelled when she didn’t see the family’s Lada parked in front of the hotel. She rang the bell long and hard. The proprietor opened the door and Natalia moved inside to find her mother having breakfast in the kitchen. “Nice of you to join us.” A smug Ivanka waved a piece of toast in Natalia’s direction.

  “Where is the car?!” Natalia replied.

  “You might as well eat.” Ivanka nodded toward the bread and jam on the table.

  “Please, mother, where is the car?” Natalia pleaded.

  “Your father went to the farm with Vladimir, to take care of the animals.”

  “No!” Natalia raised her voice. “I told him not to go back there!”

  “He took the gun. Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon.”

  “Who else went with him?”

  “Rita went to help. And Constantine. Somebody had to go! And you, off with this man…”

  A surge of panic rose within Natalia. Those tracks could be from any number of sources, she told herself. Maybe a government minister passing through the village, or someone else on the way to Tiraspol. Yet no matter how hard she tried, Natalia couldn’t shake the feeling of terror. “You stay here! I’m going to get them!” Before Ivanka could answer, Natalia rushed back out into the street. This time she ran as fast as she could. At Multinovic’s place, she rang the bell twice and then pounded on the door. He appeared in an instant, swinging it wide. “What is it?”

  “I saw some tracks. Maybe it is nothing, but my father’s gone back to the farm.”

  “What type of tracks?”

  “New tires. Big and wide. Nothing I’ve seen before.”

  “Come with me.” He led her inside, wasting no time in throwing on his clothes and boots and then arming himself.

  “I shouldn’t have left them alone last night. I never should have stayed over here.” Natalia was weighed down by guilt.

  “Don’t blame yourself. It won’t do you any good.”

  “I know, but…”

  “I mean it! This is not the time to be emotional.”

  Natalia nodded. He was right, of course. He was always right. She followed him to his garage at the back where Multinovic moved between a small white delivery truck and a sleek grey motorcycle to open a large door facing the alley. He took two helmets from the wall, handing one to Natalia before he hopped onto the bike and started it up. Multinovic rode through the door and Natalia closed it behind them. She climbed on the back of the bike and held him tightly around the waist as they sped off toward the farm.

  By the time they joined the main road the tracks had melted away but Natalia felt Multinovic pull back on the throttle and they hurtled down the highway. At the turnoff to the farm, the tracks reappeared, this time in a thin layer of mud. They doubled up on the dirt road and then continued south. Had the vehicle come and gone? The motorcycle bounced along the rutted road, through pockets of melting snow. When they crested the hill above the farm, Multinovic came to a quick stop. The tire tracks continued down towar
d the house, but the only car visible was the Lada. Beside it lay a body, face down. Even from this distance Natalia knew it was her father. She leapt off the bike and began to run, her mind in a daze. “Papa!” Natalia screamed, pulling off her helmet and throwing it aside. Time stood still as her legs moved one in front of the other, independent of thought; she heard nothing, saw nothing, only her father, still motionless before her. When she reached him, Natalia rolled him onto his back and wiped the mud from his face, desperate to clear his airway. His eyes were wide and unresponsive. His chest was red with blood. “Father, oh father…” She clutched his lifeless body and heaved with sobs.

  Behind her, Multinovic pulled up on his motorcycle and then dropped it to the ground before brandished his own pistol. “Who is that in the car?”

  Natalia lifted her head. “The car?” she repeated his words. “Rita!” She leapt to her feet. “Constantine?!” Slumped in the Lada’s passenger seat was Vladimir, a bullet wound to the head. The backseat was empty. “Rita!” Natalia shouted again as she ran toward the house.

  “Wait!” Multinovic hollered after her. “Be careful!”

  Natalia paid him no heed. She rushed into the house and darted from room to room. “Rita! Constantine! Where are you?!”

  Multinovic bounded in behind her, gun in the air. A mysterious whimper came from somewhere inside the wall and he spun around to face it.

  “No! Wait!” Natalia darted in front of him. She pushed on the panel to reveal the crawl space hidden within. Huddled inside was Constantine, arms around his knees, struggling to breathe. “Oh, Constantine! I’m here!” Natalia cried, reaching inside to pick the boy up. She carried him into the living room and placed him on the couch. His face was pale white as his lungs fought for oxygen.

  “What’s wrong with him?” said Multinovic.

  “Asthma!” She dug in his pocket and retrieved an inhaler before propping him up and holding it to his mouth. “Here, Constantine. Here is your medicine!” She pressed down on the top and he sucked in his dose, gasping as his passages began to clear. “That’s it, just breathe,” she said as the color returned to his cheeks. His eyes were wide with fear as he looked from Natalia to Multinovic and back.

  “He’s in shock,” said Multinovic.

  Natalia leaned closer to her nephew. “You’re safe now Constantine, but you must tell us. It is very important. Where is Rita?”

  Constantine’s mouth opened and closed a few times without making a sound. “Gone,” he finally managed. “Gone away.”

  “Gone where?” Natalia fought to contain her fears, trying to push aside the knowledge that her father was outside on his back, in the mud, dead. “Where did she go?”

  “The bad men took her,” Constantine answered.

  Natalia looked up to Multinovic. “I’m going after her,” she said.

  “I’ll go,” Multinovic replied.

  “No! Please. Watch my nephew.” She eased Constantine backwards on the couch. “Don’t let him see my father.”

  “Natalia...” he didn’t know how to argue with her.

  “Please, just do as I ask.”

  “They’re heading south,” Multinovic conceded. “They won’t be expecting you. That’s your only advantage.”

  “They came all this way. How could they have left without me?”

  “Zigic could have sent anyone. Men who never saw you before. They probably think they have you.”

  Natalia wasted no more time on conjecture. She ran out the door and across the yard past her father, reaching down to grab her helmet and slide it on her head. Next she lifted the bike from the mud, climbed on and hit the starter, revving the engine twice.

  “Wait!” Multinovic called after her from the doorway. “The bike, it’s low on fuel! Do you have any extra stored here?”

  “There’s no time!” Natalia popped the bike into gear and then raced off down the muddy road. At the highway she turned left, following the tire tracks south and scanning the horizon for any signs of a vehicle. She could feel the pressure of the gun against her back as she ducked into the wind and flew along the asphalt at full speed. If only she could catch them…

  After half an hour, Natalia finally spotted her quarry in the distance. It was a large black SUV, passing over a knoll about half a kilometer ahead. Natalia crouched low, trying to coax every bit of velocity that she could from her machine. She was gaining. The car grew in size until it was just a few hundred meters away. Natalia knew she couldn’t shoot the driver. Likewise for shooting out the tires. If they crashed at high speed, Rita might not survive. Natalia would have to wait until they slowed down, passing through the next village. But would the driver notice her trailing behind them in the meantime?

  Natalia matched their speed and kept her distance at roughly 150 meters. The next village was only ten kilometers away. If they slowed enough, she could pull up right alongside and shoot the tires, then the driver. Or should she pass them now and set up an ambush? Block the road up ahead and make them come to a stop? She liked this second option better. She’d lay her bike down in the road if she had to. Perhaps even lie down beside it, faking an accident. When they slowed to take a look she’d come up firing. She pulled back on the throttle, gaining on them once again. As she drew close, Natalia saw the outline of her sister sitting in the back seat. Two men sat in the front. “Hold on, Rita, I’m coming!” she thought to herself. But then the bike began to sputter. It shook and coughed. “No, no, no!” Natalia shouted out loud this time but it was no use. The engine cut out altogether. Her speed ebbed away and Natalia coasted to the shoulder. She turned the key in desperation, pressing repeatedly on the starter but to no effect. She looked to the fuel gauge. Empty. Up ahead the SUV went over another low hill and disappeared. Natalia tore off her helmet and heaved it down the highway, shaking with helplessness and rage. With each passing second her lovely, innocent little sister was slipping farther from her grasp, on into that dark hell of an existence Natalia knew so well.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Multinovic let the smoke from his cigarette swirl inside his lungs as he paced back and forth inside his courtyard. “I can’t go with you,” he exhaled, dropping the butt to the floor and stubbing it out with a heel. “You have to understand, in my business, if the Turkish government got hold of me…”

  “I’m not asking you to go,” said Natalia.

  Multinovic paused, crossing his arms. “I can handle the logistics. Supplies, transportation…”

  “Whatever you can manage. But don’t feel obliged.”

  “I won’t let you go unprepared. Come, let’s see what we can do.” Multinovic led her into the elevator, closed the door and pushed the down button. When they emerged in his underground storeroom he took out a large black duffel, unzipped it and threw it down on a work bench. He went from one crate to another, pulling out a compact machine gun and grenade launcher from one and plastic explosives from another, tossing them all in the bag. Ammunition clips, grenades and a makeup kit. He held up a bullet-proof vest in front of Natalia to check the size before tossing it in as well. When he was finished, Multinovic zipped up the duffel and lifted it to gauge the weight. The heavy-duty canvas strained from the contents, but it would hold. He handed the bag to Natalia. “Just realize what you’re up against. I honestly don’t expect you to survive.”

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence.” Natalia felt the heft of the bag, keenly aware of the enormity of her task. She was returning all alone to those menacing streets, to take on an entire criminal network, yet she couldn’t allow herself to contemplate the odds. Any hope of success meant that she had to maintain her focus. She had to believe it could be done. “When do we go?”

  “Tonight. I’ll have everything arranged. Go, be with your family. Meet me back here at dusk.”

  It wasn’t really a road they followed. It was more a series of primitive tracks, across farmlands and over rolling hills. Natalia wondered how many times he’d navigated this route on his own, eluding the
border police. His truck’s lights were off, but Multinovic drove using night-vision goggles, amplifying the pale light of the moon to show the way. When they hit a particularly large bump, Natalia braced herself against the door handle.

  “Sorry about that one, I’ll try to warn you next time,” said Multinovic.

  “It’s all right.” The physical sensation of the journey was a distraction from her true concerns. Since they set off several hours earlier she’d been preoccupied with thoughts of Rita, playing through her mind what her sister must be going through and what she had in store if Natalia failed her. She thought of her father, who she’d failed already. And she thought about killing another man herself. Goran Zigic had to die. That much she knew. When she’d killed Dusan it was without any thought at all, merely instinct. Now she faced the prospect of hunting a man down by design. Killing him in cold blood. If anyone in the world deserved to die, it was Zigic. Natalia’s heart yearned for vengeance, for Sonia, for her father, for every evil thing Zigic had ever done to her or anyone else, but this was about even more than that. With Zigic alive, Natalia would never have a moment of peace in her life, always wondering when he might next come for her. Killing him was the only way. Whatever moral implications there were to taking another human life, she had to put them aside. This was a task that she needed to accomplish, for her own survival and the survival of her family. “How far will you take me?” she asked Multinovic.

  “Bulgaria. A man will be waiting with a boat. He’s done the run many times. You’ll be safe with him. He will take you to the Turkish coast.”

  “And then?”

  “You’ll be driven into the city. After that, you’re on your own. Find an out-of-the-way hotel, settle in and do your homework. Don’t be too hasty. That’s the best way to wind up dead. If you think that you know where she is, you have to observe the place. Make sure you know how many guards there are. Try to determine where they are posted, where your sister is being held, how to get in and how to get out.”