Alina's Revenge Page 13
The soldier smiled and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked empty.
Goran immediately knocked the legs from underneath him and rolled onto the loading dock. With both in a prone position, Goran kicked the soldier’s face.
By now, Goran could see just one soldier on the other side. The man turned and swung his rifle toward him.
Goran had no choice. Firing from a prone position, he snapped off two quick shots. The slugs entered the man’s chest dead center. Goran saw he had already been hit at least three times by Maric but had miraculously stayed in the fight. The final two shots, however, were too much. The man coughed, slipped to his knees, and pitched forward.
The soldier at Goran’s feet kicked at him with his good leg. Goran rose to a kneeling position. The man tried to rise. He made it half way when Goran hit him with a straight right to the chin. The man went down.
Goran rose, slamming a fresh clip into his gun. He stepped around to the other side of the trailer to see Maric lying underneath it. The remaining soldier was climbing into the driver’s side of the cab. Goran was about to fire when he heard a muffled shot. The soldier fell backward, his head hitting the concrete hard.
Alina appeared in the door and looked at Goran. He jumped off the loading area and ran to Maric.
“Where are you hit?”
Maric cursed loudly, then grimaced. “My side. My right side.”
Goran opened Maric’s shirt and saw the tiny bullet hole. Only a small amount of blood trickled from it. He felt Maric’s back. With the mach speed of the AK’s bullet at such close range, it had pierced straight through without tumbling, leaving a clean exit wound. It was hard to tell, but it did not appear to have hit any vital organs.
“I think you’re going to be all right,” Goran said. “Still, we need to get you to a doctor. Alina needs a doctor, too. Let’s get in the truck and go.”
Maric shook his head. “Not yet.” He stifled a groan as Goran pulled him out from beneath the trailer. Maric wrapped an arm around his neck for support.
“But we have to go,” Goran said.
“I said, not yet.”
Gaining his feet, Maric left Goran and went to the first man’s body. He knelt to search his pockets. Finally, he produced a set of keys. He showed them to Goran.
“Okay, now we can go.”
“What are those for?”
“There’s a safe hidden inside the trailer. It’s where Oric keeps the cash for his transactions. This place is just a layover, a place to change trucks to throw any watchful eye off the trail.”
“Fine. Now get in the truck!”
Maric nodded.
“I’ll drive,” Goran said, helping him to his feet.
Maric shook him off. He staggered toward the driver’s door. “No, it’s my truck. Nobody drives my truck but me. I can make it. Besides,” he looked at Goran, “I’m the only one who knows where we’re going.”
“Well, let’s get at it. Those gunshots attracted a lot of attention. We’ve got to get out of here.”
He shoved him into the cab. Maric slumped in his seat.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Maric nodded and pushed the engine start button. The big diesel roared to life.
Goran ran around to the other side and got in to see Alina pulling Maric off the wheel.
“What happened out there?” she said. “I thought we were just going to get the manifest and be off.”
“Maric changed that plan when he shot the man in the back.”
“Yes, I saw that part,” Alina said. “What were you thinking Maric?”
“I’ve been through this with your boyfriend,” he groaned. He was having trouble with the heavy wheel. Goran gave her a warning shake of the head. Alina let it go.
“Well, how bad is the wound?”
“Pretty bad,” Goran replied. “We’ve got to get him to a doctor, but he won’t let me drive.”
“Can you drive one of these rigs?” she asked.
Goran shook his head. “No, but I learn fast.”
“Enough!” Maric straightened. “I’m still alive. I can make it. I know a guy that can patch us up, someone who won’t go to the police.”
Goran looked in the mirror. “We’d better hurry. People are coming out of the warehouse. You can bet the cops are on their way.”
Maric put the truck in gear and pulled away, leaving the gathering crowd staring after the retreating trailer.
~~~
It took General Oric almost two hours to navigate the tremendous traffic jam caused by the carnage. Finally, he arrived at the scene of the highway wreck of the first van. His driver pulled to a stop in the left emergency lane. The place was a tangled mess of metal on metal; the van so crumpled it was almost unrecognizable. Two of the four men riding in back were being loaded into ambulances.
Captain Dzadzic was standing on the other side of the side of the van talking to a police officer. General Dimitrov was with him, animated hand motions emphasizing some point.
Oric got out and approached them. He pulled the captain aside and asked, “What happened?”
“They got away. Clipped a car here that spun around. We ran into it, disabling our van. The other two vans took up pursuit. Can’t raise them on the radio, though. I think the men are dead.”
Oric slammed a fist on the side of the van, causing the policeman to turn around. The officer regarded him a moment, then went back to listening to Dimitrov explain why Captain Dzadzic and his men were in the country, something about a joint venture.
General Oric leaned toward the captain, talking in hushed tones. “Why were they headed south, do you think?”
The captain shrugged. “There’s one city south of here and that’s Plovdiv.” He paused. “You don’t think...”
Oric once again turned away. “I knew it! I knew it. She knows something. Must have got it out of Mirko. He’s the only one she could have gotten it out of.”
“You mean the heroin?”
“Of course I mean the heroin. What else is there? Besides me, of the three remaining men left from our military unit, one lives in Istanbul. The others are in Kirkuk, Iraq. She’s got to be going after us and the drug shipment.” He looked at his watch. “Call our people at the switching station. Alert them to the situation.”
The captain extended his hand. “I need your cell phone, sir. Mine got smashed in the pileup.”
Oric handed him the phone and went to where Dimitrov was now yelling at the policeman.
“What’s going on here, officer?” Oric said in perfect Bulgarian. He looked at the general. “Anything I can do to help?”
Dimitrov shook his head. “This man and I just have a disagreement. He wants to bring in the regular Army in on this. I’m telling him that I am regular Army, that this was just an accident.”
“Then what about the other two vans down the road?” the officer said.
“What other two vans?” Oric said.
“Seems they got into a firefight with a tractor trailer rig. A red one.”
“Oh, dear.” Oric feigned ignorance. “What happened?”
“They were shot off the road. One of them wound up in a ditch. Everyone in the van had been shot dead. There’s one body in the middle of the highway and a rifle embedded in the windshield of a driver who saw the whole thing.” He indicated the other side of the road of oncoming traffic. “A second van gave chase and wound up on that side of the road. The van is riddled with bullet holes as well. We can safely assume they were after the same rig. We think they were all shot to death, but it’s hard to tell what actually killed them since they had a front end collision with another truck. I want to know what’s going on, and the general says it was nothing.”
“It was nothing, officer. I am General Oric of the Serbian Army. My men and I are working in a joint venture with your government to find two suspected terrorists. They exploded an IED at my base and fled to your country. I contacted the general here for assistance. We were on our way to Plovdiv.
” He pointed to the wrecked van. “This was just and accident. That is all there is to it.”
“That’s not all there is to it,” the officer said sternly. “There’s more than what you are telling me.”
“I assure you, there is not. I have no idea who the men in the other vans were. They were not in my command and definitely not in the general’s.”
“Are you trying to tell me that three identical black vans with no connection with each other met horrific accidents at the same time?”
“That is precisely what I am telling you. I agree a crime was committed with the other two vans, but of this one, this was merely an accident. If you get your chief, that is what I will tell him. And if you get your General of the Army, that is what I will tell him as well. We have everything covered. All branches of the military are on alert as we speak—even the General of the Army. So you see you might as well drop it here.”
The officer put his notepad back into his vest pocket. He looked at Oric, then Dimitrov, and back again. Then, without a word, he walked away.
“Uh, General Oric, sir?” It was Captain Dzadzic. He held out the phone. “I think you want to hear this. It’s about our shipment.”
Oric limped toward the captain. “What about it?”
“It’s gone. The drugs, the money, the entire trailer, they’re all gone. They took it.”
Chapter 15
The phone rang in an immaculate and luxurious house set against the scenic Marmara Sea. Its thick Turkish rugs and tile floor gave the house a sense of elegance and rich history. Gold framed paintings adorned the walls. In the background, behind plate glass windows, was a magnificent swimming pool complete with running fountains.
A man with long, black hair sat on the sofa. He placed his drink on a side table, clearly a man in no hurry. The phone kept ringing as he removed his reading glasses and smoothed his grand beard. He rose from the leather sofa and sauntered across the room. He wore a swim trunks and a lightweight robe that flowed in his wake. This was Josuf Itsakovic.
He picked up the phone.
“Josuf? It’s Ivo. We’ve got a problem.”
“Problem? Still? What is it now?”
“The latest shipment has been stolen. The woman I told you about, she took it.”
Josuf picked up a golden statue of Buddha and flung it across the room, smashing through one of the windows.
“How? How could you let this happen?”
“It wasn’t me, sir. It was Dimitrov’s people. She had two men helping her. They drove in a semi truck and took the entire trailer. They killed everyone there but one. Why they would let him live, I don’t know.”
“The whole trailer? You lost 200 million marks worth of heroin, plus the money in the safe? I will not tolerate this failure. You hear me? Failure brings the penalty of death! You of all people should know that.”
“But sir, this is the only—”
“I do not care how many times it is. Once is enough. You must get back my shipment by the day’s end, or you’re a dead man.”
“I will, sir, but there’s one other thing. All my men are dead.”
“All of them? She killed all of them?”
“I need more people.”
“That’s not my problem, Ivo. It’s yours. How could you let one woman destroy your entire organization? You’ve lost your edge. Your incompetence is the cause of all this. That means you’re no longer of any use to me. Like I said, you find a way to return my shipment, or you’re dead. And then I will kill your family. Your wife, dead. Your children, all dead!” Itsakovic slammed the phone in its cradle. The clack reverberated through the spacious room. He remained by the phone, thinking.
A woman stuffed in a white bikini walked into the room. She picked up his drink and brought it to him.
“What’s the matter, Sweetie?”
He stroked her bottom and kissed her lightly. “Nothing, my dear. Just a man I know is about to die, that’s all.” He took a sip of his drink and said, “Why don’t you go for a swim? I’ll join you in a moment.”
“Okay,” she replied as she flashed a dazzling smile. “But don’t be long.”
Itsakovic waited until she was outside before he picked up the phone. He punched in a number and waited.
“Hello?” a man’s voice answered.
“It’s Josuf. I’ve got a job for you.”
~~~
Oric was having trouble turning off his cell phone. His fingers shook. He made a fist, trying to get them to stop, but he couldn’t. He was afraid of Itsakovic, afraid of what he was capable of doing. He knew his mercurial temper. One minute he could be calm, then in a flash would shoot someone in the head and put down the gun as if nothing happened. He had seen it before.
He sat in the passenger seat of his van, still at the crash scene. In front of him, Captain Dzadzic and General Dimitrov talked, laughing. It made him angry.
He stepped out of the van and slammed the door. Using his cane, he limped toward them.
“Captain!” he yelled.
The captain turned, still smiling. “Yes, sir?”
“When I address you, Captain, you are to salute me. Is that clear?”
Dzadzic saluted at attention. “Crystal, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”
“Nothing. I want to talk to the general alone. Now get out of here. Go do something useful.”
Captain Dzadzic gave him a bewildered look and walked away, pretending to inspect the useless mess that had once been his van.
“Pavel, we have a problem,” Oric said to the general. “My men are dead. I need to borrow yours.”
Dimitrov laughed. “My men? It is not my problem, Ivo. It is yours. Your mess.” He turned to leave as Oric grabbed him by the elbow. Dimitrov looked at him with a frown. “Let go of my arm, General Oric.”
Oric gripped him even harder and pulled him close. “Listen. I’ve put up with you for ten years now. All your petty parading around like a big shot, acting as if you were in charge of this operation. Let me tell you, you’re not. You’re just a pawn, someone who helps me get stuff across your country and into mine. That’s it! Stop playing games with me. If I go down, then you go down with me. I have men at my disposal who would like nothing else than to kill you where you stand.”
Pavel ripped his arm free and extended both arms, looking both ways. “Where? Where are they? Your men are all dead. I have nothing to fear from you.”
Oric reached into his coat and pulled out a 9mm. He shoved it under Pavel’s chin. “Oh, no? How’s this? Do you feel that cold steel? I could blow your head off this second and not feel a thing about it. Then I could take your men and go find these people who ripped me off.”
Dimitrov pulled down the gun with a smile, a smile that did not match the flare in his eyes. “You do not scare me, General. You cannot kill me. You need me.”
“I won’t need you if I’m dead. And since that seems very likely unless I get that shipment back, your life is on the line. Do you understand me?”
Dimitrov nodded. “I understand. I know you are desperate, and desperate men say and do things they would not normally do. Because of that, I forgive this trespass of yours, but I will not be threatened again. Is that clear?”
Oric put the gun away. “Yes. Now, are you going to help me or not?”
“I will help you. How many people do you need?”
“I want your entire arsenal at my disposal.”
“All of it?”
“Everything. Your men and your weapons. Put a dozen helicopters in the air looking for this truck and trailer. And here’s a little incentive for you: if you find them, I will give you half my cut in addition to yours.”
Dimitrov glared at him. “All your cut. I will take everything. Then I will help you.”
Oric stood silent. Glaring, then said, “Fine. It’s a deal.”
“Now you are talking sense, Ivo. Okay, you have your birds. You have my men. Where would you like to start?”
“Plovdiv. We start with the
warehouse. There are surveillance cameras there. We see the truck and give that picture to all the spotters. Pass it around to the men, too. And remember, we’re now looking for three people—two men and a woman. I don’t know who the third man is yet, but I suspect he’s the truck driver.”
“If he is the truck driver, we should be able to get an ID off the license plate. Then we can pull up his picture from the database.”
“Good idea, Pavel. You are might be quite useful after all.”
~~~
The loading dock was still a mess of bodies and blood when Oric’s van arrived. The police were there. The forensic team was canvassing the area. Blue lights from multiple squad cars strobed the scene.
Oric sat in the front passenger seat. He looked behind him at Dimitrov. “You’re on, General.”
Dimitrov nodded and slid open the side door. Oric opened his and stepped out with him. Captain Dzadzic brought up the rear. They approached the first policeman.
“Who is in charge here?” Dimitrov asked.
The officer pointed to a tall, gray bearded man who wore the emblem of a commandant. Dimitrov called to him.
“Commander?” The man turned. “May I have a word with you?”
The commandant made his way to Dimitrov, careful to walk around the litter of brass shell casings.
“Yes, General. What can I do for you?”
“What is your name?”
“Commander Aleksandar Hubchev at your service.”
“I am General Dimitrov. I am now in charge here. This crime scene is under control of the Bulgarian Army.”
“How do you figure that?”
Dimitrov pointed to the bodies. “These men were Army. They were my men, protecting a shipment of military weapons. That’s how I figure that. I have reason to believe a group of terrorists hijacked the shipment and is heading for the capital building or some populated area, and once there they will discharge those weapons on the public.”
“What sort of weapons?”
“That’s classified, but be assured they are quite lethal.”
Hubchev nodded and said, “I understand your position, General, but this happened in my province. Let us cut through all the arguments and let me suggest a joint venture on this. I think we can be of service to each other.”