He sucked in a breath. “What else?”
“He’s transporting girls on that ship. If you board that ship, you’re facing men who spent time in the worst penal colonies in Russia, men who bow to no authority. They’re straight-out killers.”
“Then that’s all the more reason we must do this. We can’t let them get away with these girls. I can’t let them take Birgitta. Look, I have an SEK team of fifty men plus myself, Trommler, Beimer, and two combat Marines. We have a strategy, and we have the element of surprise. They’re not expecting us.”
“It may not be enough, Joseph.” Faust paused. A woman’s voice could be heard in the background. “Hold on. Elsa wants to talk to you.”
“Joseph, there’s something you can use. Ivchencko is a germophobe.”
“Yes, so?” He didn’t see how Ivchencko being a clean freak would make any difference.
“No, you don’t understand. He’s germophobic on a crazy level. It’s why he won’t shake hands with people. He will shy away from dirt, and germs you can’t see make him crazy. Use it. If you find yourself in a pinch with him, use it.” Her words were insistent.
“How do you know this? Did Koslov confess?”
“Let’s just say I had my own experience with his insane fear. And yes, Koslov confessed. Joseph?”
“What?”
Silence, and then, “Be careful, and bring Birgitta home.” There was a hint of emotion in her words, the fear of a child talking to a parent.
Heinz bit his lip. “I will. Now put Faust back on.”
“She’s quite something, this one,” Herman stated simply.
“Yes, she is. Listen, Herman. I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything. What do you need?”
Heinz looked at Lukas and Beimer. Both were watching him. “If we don’t make it...If I don’t make it back—"
“Stop talking nonsense, Jo—"
“Herman! You promised.”
“I’m sorry. Please. Continue.”
“In the event I don’t make it out of this, take care of Elsa and Anno. They need someone.”
“I will. Now, stop being maudlin, and go be the hero, for Christ’s sake.” Faust hung up.
Heinz stuffed his phone back in his pocket and looked at the men. He licked his teeth, and started to say, “there’s new information.”
Hammer held up a hand. “We know.” He reached out and flipped the button to Heinz’s mic. “You forgot to turn this off. Everyone knows. And I can safely say that Bratva or no, we’re taking this ship, and we’re rescuing these girls. There isn’t a single man here who isn’t onboard with this plan. And Heinz? We’re going to kick their ass!”
ELSA’S STOMACH WAS tied in knots. She feared for Joseph, and for Birgitta, and all those girls. Her arm hurt. She really was out of practice with the whip. Her leg hurt because the painkillers from earlier were wearing off. She felt physically and mentally exhausted, and her emotions were running high. Officer Imler backed her wheelchair out of Koslov’s room. He was still cursing her, but the heat had gone out of his words.
“I hope you rot in hell, you evil devil woman!”
“You, first.” Elsa flipped him the bird as she exited.
“Oh, he will. No worries. Gregor is going to love prison. And by the looks of him,” Faust made a wry face, “prison is going to love him.” Koslov lay in his bed, penis still out for all the world to see. Faust sighed. “Well, I can’t leave even you like that.” He walked over and threw the blanket up, tucking it around Gregor’s shoulders. He leaned down, smiling. “The LKA thanks you for your cooperation. I’ll be sure to let the jail guards know just how much you’ve helped us. I’m sure they’ll want to tell all your cellmates, hold you up as a good example, a model prisoner.”
Koslov’s eyes grew wide. He’d never been in prison, but heard the men on the Vledelets tell tales, and the one thing prisoners do not tolerate is a man perceived to be in the pocket of law enforcement. He was as good as dead. The idea terrified him.
Faust whistled a happy tune as he walked out. But the tune didn’t quite hide the fierce worry running around his head. He knew that the odds of Heinz and the SEK coming out on top in this operation were lower than fifty percent. He didn’t like those odds at all. Before he’d turned Elsa loose on the rapist, they all thought they would be dealing with run of the mill criminals. After she extracted the information, he knew they were the worst kind. The Bratva weren’t just brutal, they were a network with paid informants in places one would never expect. Sometimes, those informants were inside police organizations. He didn’t want to put Joseph and Elsa in danger, but it seemed this whole case file of three missing girls was far more than any of them could imagine. It was only the tip of the iceberg.
He caught up with them at the elevator. “Hell of a job you did, Kreiss. I won’t forget it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Her energy level plummeted further, and she could barely hold her eyes open, yet her mind wouldn’t shut down. “You’ll keep me posted, won’t you?”
The ride down two floors was short. “Will do. I understand how much it means to you.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder. They were no more than three steps out of the lift and down the hall when Nurse Eichmann came up on them.
“It’s about time!” She looked at her patient. “What have you done to her? She looks like she’s going to pass out!” Her eyes narrowed on Faust and her thin lips pursed.
If it weren’t for Elsa’s immediate need for medication and bed, Faust thought the muscular nurse might just beat his ass for keeping her patient up. He swallowed a nervous chuckle. There wasn’t much in this world that frightened him. The list was short, actually. His mother-in-law, the Bratva, and spiders – the hairy ones. He’d been known to actually shoot at them with his Sig. Now, he could add Nurse Eichmann to that list.
“Come, come, Officer. I have your pain meds all ready for you.” She commandeered the wheelchair from Imler and tossed a look over her shoulder at Faust. He shuddered.
He stood there, hands in pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. Officer Imler looked at him.
“So, are we staying or going?”
Faust ran a hand through his graying blond hair. “I’m staying. You’re going. You’re relieved for the night.”
She started to object, seeing how tired he looked, but wisely chose to do what her boss instructed. “Goodnight, sir.” She left him standing in the hall.
He turned and headed down the hall to the waiting area near Elsa’s room. There were chairs in there, and a couch if he recalled correctly from his earlier vigil. He could grab another coffee from the vending machine and go have a lie-down while he waited to hear back from Heinz. At least he’d be close by and could let Elsa know what was going on once he knew. In the meantime, all they could do was wait, so may as well try and rest up.
Chapter Sixteen
TWO HOURS PASSED, AND still Koslov had not returned. Ivchencko checked his watch again, then his phone. Where the hell is Dutch? He put the flogger down and removed his surgical gloves. The sound of crying was annoying him now. It was coming from all around from cages filled with more than forty young women. The one he had manacled to the rack against the wall slumped forward. The brown-haired young woman had passed out on him. It’s no fun if they’re unconscious. The girl was covered in welts and open lashes. She would need to heal before they arrived in St. Petersburg. Ivchencko picked up an antibiotic spray and proceeded to ‘water’ the girl’s wounds like a houseplant. The anticoagulant in the spray would stop the bleeding, and the wounds would not get infected. She’d have some scarring, but who cared?
He used a clean cloth to wipe the sweat off his brow, put his jacket back on, and left the cargo hold. He needed to go check on what was delaying Gregor. He needed the boy. When they arrived back in Mother Russia, the girls would have to be hidden temporarily before they could be sold at auction. When he initially found Gregor on the docks of Riga, he planned to kill him. He’d even broug
ht him down to the cargo bay intending to have a little fun first, but when he’d had Ivan strip him down and seen the scars covering his back, he stopped. Instead of whipping him, he was fascinated, and made Koslov tell him the story of all those scars. He couldn’t believe it when he discovered they were mostly self-inflicted. He was even more intrigued by the tale of the Order of Rasputin. Gregor admitted his crime of killing a young girl, but that didn’t matter as much as to how and why the young girl was there to begin with. Koslov said he’d often witnessed young women being brought in and tortured in the same manner as Irina. They didn’t stay long, just long enough to be broken—made meek and compliant. A car would always come for them in a few weeks, and that car would leave behind supplies for the Order.
It was clear that the Order worked with an organization that trafficked young women. As long as they weren’t particular about who paid them, Ivchencko saw this as a golden opportunity. His contact complained often of how difficult it was to break these girls. They had to become addicted to drugs, which became expensive, and then they didn’t last as long, overdosing more than he cared for. Profit and loss. The bottom line was always the priority. The longer these girls lived, the better for business. If they stayed clean, they sold for a higher price. So, if the religious Order could break them down for only the cost of food and supplies, that was a win-win for everyone. But he needed Gregor to find the place, and he needed that ‘in’. He promised to protect him from the wrath of the Holy Father Matteus and Mother. All he had to do was lead them there and make the introductions. But in order for that to happen, he needed to be on this ship now.
He made his way up to the third deck. He needed to change his shirt, and that meant a quick stop at his state room. If he heard nothing by the time he changed and arrived on the bridge, then they would have to leave without him. This thought put Ivchencko in a foul mood. He reached the corridor and made his way down to his room. He pulled his key out and slid it into the lock. It didn’t click. He paused, then pulled the handle and pushed it open. A bloody body greeted his eyes. He stepped in seeing no detective tied to the chair or the bed. He bent down without thought reaching to turn the head of the corpse. It was Dutch. Fuck! He stepped back. Ivchencko absorbed the fact that he had blood on his hands, and panicking, ran over to the sink to quickly scrub them. He had to do it three times before he was satisfied. Then he pulled off his jacket and shirt and performed speedy ablutions on his upper body feeling as if it, too, somehow became contaminated. He dried off with a towel and grabbed a clean shirt from the wardrobe. Buttoning it up, he picked out a clean jacket. Once he felt in order, he went straight to his desk to get his pistol. It wasn’t there. Rage filled him. He picked up his phone. The line went straight to the bridge. It rang, and rang, and rang. He slammed the phone back into the cradle. After a moment of thought, Ivchencko bent down to pull a box out from the bottom shelf of the built-in shelving. Inside was a collection of knives. He pulled out two lethal-looking daggers and palmed them. The look in his eyes promised murder for one petite, brunette detective. He left the room pulling on a fresh pair of surgical gloves.
HEINZ FOLLOWED HAMMER up the gangplank. It was dark, but they stayed low. The aquatic team took out the guards on deck by hand—knives over gunfire, then signaled to the rest of the team. They were the last to ascend. Lukas took his left flank, and Beimer took the right while Hammer led the way. Howitzer, Jager, and Kelner brought up the rear. Unit two stormed the bridge taking out communication with the rest of the ship. Units three, four, and five began making their way down to the first three lower decks. So far, so good.
Team three leader gave the thumbs up indicating the way was clear down to the first lower deck. Hammer waved them onward, and they took to the stairs. In his ear, Heinz could hear the unit two leader say “We got the wheel. Bear on the loose. Possibly third deck. Out.” The bear, of course, was Ivchencko. And he was most likely on third deck. Check. They moved quickly, making their way room by room, looking for Mahler. The kidnapped girls were most likely in the hold. It was possible she was with them, but Heinz didn’t want to leave any stone unturned, and they still had a way to go.
BIRGITTA MOVED AT A painstaking pace. The scent of food filled her nostrils. She was close to the galley. As she got closer, she could hear voices and utensils clanking. It sounded like it was dinnertime, and most of the crew would be inside the chow hall. She backed up, not wanting to run into any of them. Looking around, she searched for another route. The corridor branched off right and left. The sounds and scents of the galley seemed to be coming from the left, so she went right hoping to find another staircase up to the next level. She tried reading the directions on the wall, but they were in Russian. No good to her. Someone whistled a tune, the sound coming closer. She glanced left and right, there were three doors. She tried the first. Locked. The whistler moved closer. The second door was also locked. Sweat trickled down her spine between her shoulder blades. The third door opened, and she gave a quick look before stepping inside and closing it before the whistler rounded the corner and passed by. It was a supply closet. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Too close for comfort. She counted to ten, then peeked out the door. The coast was clear, and she moved fast, taking the corner.
She lucked out when she discovered a back staircase at the end of the next hall. It was narrow, and darker than the one she was carried down earlier. Not used as much, but most definitely used if one could guess by the empty pack of cigarettes wadded up and tossed on the steps. The acrid hint of smoke still lingered. Someone had been here smoking recently. Possibly the whistler, but she couldn’t be sure. She climbed the steps, gun at the ready. When she reached the landing, she said a silent prayer, then pulled the handle. It squeaked, and she cringed. Slowly, she pulled the heavy metal door open peering through the crack for any movement. Seeing none, she stepped through. A voice stopped her in her tracks. “Freeze!”
“Put the gun down and turn with your hands up.” Mahler’s heart raced. She thought a mile a minute about how to get out of this. If she put the gun down, she still had the switchblade. She leaned forward and set the gun on the ground using her free hand to reach into her jacket.
“Stop!” The voice jarred her. She turned.
“Joseph?” A mountain of hope filled that one word. Her eyes locked on his.
“Birgitta!” Heinz pushed Hammer out of the way rushing forth to pull her into his arms. He held her tight, whispering words of gratitude into her hair. “Thank God! I thought I’d lost you!”
She pulled back, tears in her eyes, about to respond when he kissed her. Hard. It was brief, powerful, and they were both surprised. When they pulled apart, Lukas cleared his throat.
“Maybe we should save that for later?”
Beimer chuckled, muttering “Elsa nailed it. Can’t wait to tell her.”
Mahler looked embarrassed, and Heinz’s face showed irritation over being observed, and perhaps losing control in front of others. He looked down at his partner whom he still held. “You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you?”
“Well, he did punch me, but nothing beyond that. Listen, I found documents that implicate him in the trafficking of hundreds of girls.”
“We know. There are an unknown number onboard now.” The anger written all over his face summed up all their feelings.
“How do you know,” she asked, still not ready to let him go.
“Koslov confessed. Faust said he turned Elsa loose on him. Can’t wait to hear the entirety of that story. But the gist of it is that he’s been working for the Bratva, specifically, The Butcher.”
“No scheisse?” Mahler’s eyes grew large.
“No scheisse.” Heinz reached up and tucked a strand of her loose, curly hair behind her ear. “So where are these documents? We’ll need them if we’re going to have a chance in hell of indicting Ivchencko.”
Birgitta felt her cheeks warm under his regard, and she smiled. “I have them with me.” She indicated the seaman’s
bag over her shoulder.
Heinz grinned. “You’re an amazing woman.”
Trommler sighed loudly. Beimer smiled. But Hammer brought them all back to reality. “If you two are finished, there’s a dangerous criminal onboard that we need to catch.”
Heinz and Mahler looked a bit sheepish but pulled apart. “When I find his ‘butler’, I’m going to rip several holes in him for punching you,” he said.
“You’re a little late, Joseph. I already did.” Her voice was hollow with suppressed emotion. Her eyes shadowed with both regret and resolve.
“You took him out,” Hammer asked. She nodded. The commander pressed the button on his mic. “Hammer here. One more down.” He added Dutch to the men the aquatic team had already disabled, keeping count so that they could coordinate their attack. Six men on the bridge were also neutralized, so that brought the number of men left on the loose to fifty. The odds were even by number, but heavily in their favor by element of surprise, training, and weaponry.
Hammer once again took lead, and Heinz pushed Mahler behind him. As they moved, he removed his Kevlar vest insisting she put it on. “But what about you? You’re unprotected,” she argued.
“I have these three.” He pointed at Hammer, Trommler, and Beimer. “Just do it. I can’t stay focused if I’m worrying about your safety,” he insisted as she reluctantly took the vest and put it on. It was a little large on her small frame, but Heinz seemed satisfied that she had her vital organs behind a bullet-proof shield.
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 41