Alina's Revenge Page 2

  She slammed the comb down and forced herself to breathe slowly, concentrating on stilling her rapid heartbeat.

  “Anger will just get you killed,” she said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Remember what Hugo said. You have to get hold of yourself. Control your emotions.”

  She put on a faded pair of jeans and had just finished pulling a faded yellow T-shirt over her head when there was a knock at the door. Immediately, she went to her duffle bag and extracted the knife. She slid it into her back pocket and cracked open the door.

  A young man with a cultivated, close-cropped beard stood in the hallway. His hair was long. When he smiled, she noticed two teeth missing in front.

  “Good evening,” he said. “Sorry to disturb you, but I couldn’t help but overhear you were headed for Valjevo.”

  Alina tensed. “Yes, that’s right. So?”

  “I was wondering if I might hitch a ride. I’m also going that way.”

  Alina shook her head. “I’m not driving a taxi.” She tried closing the door but he stuck his foot in the way. The knife came out, held behind her leg.

  “I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Egzon Dudakovic. I come from that area. You obviously don’t know where you are going and you’re alone. I thought we could help each other out. I’ll buy the gas if you will let me accompany you.”

  “No.”

  “Please, may I come in?”

  “No.”

  The young man seemed undeterred. “Please, Miss. I need help. My brother is dying and I have to get home. I have no other way.”

  “Buy bus fare. It will get you there.”

  He shook his head. “The bus is too slow. I need to be there soon as I can. I can give you fifty marks if you’ll help me get to my brother—in addition to the fuel.”

  Alina looked him up and down. She desperately needed the money. Still, she learned from Hugo not to trust anyone, let alone a stranger knocking at her door.

  She shook her head. “I don’t like Serbs. Find another way.”

  Egzon took out his wallet and held up fifty marks. “Here’s the money. You can have it now if you want.”

  Alina looked at the wad of cash. So what if he was a hated Serb? For fifty marks, she could endure a few hour’s ride.

  “Come back in the morning,” she said. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

  The man smiled. “Thank you.” He hesitated a moment before withdrawing his foot. “Tomorrow morning then. Goodnight.”

  Alina shut the door and locked it, sliding the chain closed. She tossed the knife on the bed.

  “What are you getting yourself into?” she said. “A stranger? Letting a stranger into your car?” She shook her head and picked up her wallet. Nearly empty. She knew she needed money and here was a man willing to pay. She would have to take the risk, even if it meant letting her guard down for a few hours.

  ~~~

  The next morning brought a light rap on her door. Alina was ready, still dressed in her old pair of jeans and T-shirt. She opened the door and walked back into the room. Egzon followed her in, smiling.

  “So, you changed your mind, eh?” he said.

  She shrugged. “I need the cash.”

  She zipped her duffle bag closed and slung it over her shoulder. “Come on if you’re ready. Stay here if you’re not.”

  “Oh, I’m ready. Already checked out. Bags are downstairs.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  When they got into the pickup, she said, “Name’s Alina.”

  “Good to finally meet you. Can’t say I expected a ride today considering the reception I got last night.”

  Alina started the engine. “Yeah, sorry about that. But I can’t be too careful these days.”

  As they drove east, the big city faded into rolling countryside.

  “So where are you from?” Alina asked.

  “Originally? I’m from Focka, about a hundred kilometers to the south. My family moved to Valjevo about ten years ago.”

  “What are you doing in Bosnia?”

  “Just passing through. I was playing with a band. Made our way to Greece before the money ran out. That’s when I heard about my brother and started hitching rides cross countries to get home. I hope I get there in time.”

  Alina nodded. “What instrument do you play?”

  “Guitar. Lead guitar, in fact.”

  “Really? You don’t have it with you. Where is it?”

  “Had to sell it.”

  “Sell it?” She shook her head. “Musicians never sell their instrument. It’s like their baby.”

  Egzon kept looking straight ahead. “It was tough, but hey, I can always get a new one. I can’t get a new brother.”

  “Yes, I can understand that. I’ve got four brothers myself, adopted brothers that is. My family was killed when I was young and another family took me in.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Sounds like you had a rough time of it.”

  This conversation was going places Alina did not want to go. She didn’t want to talk about herself and immediately tried to change the subject. “Everybody had a rough time of it. Anyway, how about your brother? What’s he dying of?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

  Not wanting to hit on any more sensitive topics, Alina said something about the weather. They continued talking about insignificant things for about an hour until Egzon motioned to the right.

  “Take the next road.”

  She looked at him. “But that leads south. Don’t we need to go east?”

  “It’s a shortcut. Trust me.”

  Against her better judgment, Alina turned right. The pavement soon ran out, giving way to a dirt road. Trees lined either side. Beyond that was pastureland. Alina got a sick feeling in her stomach.

  “You sure this is the way?” she asked.

  “You can stop the car right here. This should be fine.”

  Alina tensed but kept driving.

  “I said stop the car!” Egzon yelled as he pulled out a knife and held it close to her face.

  “Aren’t there any good men in Serbia?” Alina said, her voice terse and clipped.

  “Oh, I’m good—good at raping women. Now, pull over or I’ll cut you right here!”

  His remarks rekindled the fire burning in Alina’s mind. She nevertheless pulled to the side of the road.

  “Now get out.”

  As she exited the car, Egzon followed, motioning her to the back.

  “Don’t try to run. It will only make things worse for you.”

  Alina did not cry or beg. She was calm, confident. This seemed to unsettle the Serb. Instead of tears, her eyes held hatred—hatred for the entire Serbian race. Right now, that hate was focused on him.

  “What do you want?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “You know what I want. Now get over here.”

  She walked toward him, stopping a few feet away.

  “Close enough?”

  “That will do. Now get on your knees.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Alina swung a roundhouse kick at the knife, sending it spinning through the air. It clinked against the side of the pickup, the only sound in the tense silence.

  Alina stepped back, her feet splayed, and waited for him.

  Egzon rubbed his wrist. “Oh, so you want it rough, huh? A lucky kick doesn’t change anything. I don’t need a knife. I’ve got a few moves of my own.”

  He lunged at her, but he underestimated Alina’s speed. She waited until the last second then dodged out of his way and lifted a knee to his stomach. He gasped and sprawled face first onto the dirt road.

  He came up in a rush. Enraged, he leaped at her, throwing a stiff jab. Alina ducked beneath the blow and hit him in the stomach with a short jab. She followed that up with an uppercut to the jaw that rocked him on his heels. Never stopping, Alina spun and front kicked high, catching him square on the chin. Egzon’s head snapped back. He staggered two steps, but
did not go down. He came in again, shaking his head, moving more slowly.

  Alina positioned herself sideways, smiling. That seemed to bother Egzon even more. He hesitated, then came at her in a bull rush, arms wide. He stopped short of Alina’s kick and grabbed her shoe, twisting it as he threw her foot to one side.

  Alina landed hard on her back. For the first time in the struggle, she was in trouble. She did not want to get into a ground struggle with this man. Egzon followed her down and wrapped both hands around her throat.

  Kicking furiously, Alina tried to get up only to be dragged back down. She could not breathe. Egzon tightened his grip. She grabbed one of his fingers and pulled back hard. The sound of the bone snapping blended with his howl of pain. The move worked. His hands came off and Alina rolled free, gasping for air.

  It did not take long for him to lunge for her again prone figure. Alina brought her knees up so that he landed on her shins, and then used her powerful legs to push him up and over the top in a wild summersault. Arms and legs flailed uselessly. He landed with a hard thud against the truck, hitting his head.

  Alina sprang to her feet.

  Egzon rose slowly. He shook his head as if to clear his vision. When he looked down, he saw the knife. Alina saw it, but it was too late. Grabbing the blade, Egzon came at her with renewed confidence. Whatever thoughts he may have had of rape now seemed to be gone. Murder lay in his eyes. That didn’t bother Alina. She was back on balance now.

  He held the blade down in fighting fashion and swung a wild swipe. Alina parried his knife hand with a right forearm and jabbed his face with the left. Egzon stopped. Alina swung a left cross, then another, hitting his jaw and nose.

  Egzon stumbled then lunged forward, aiming the tip at her throat. Alina dodged back. The gleaming blade reflected the morning sun as it arced for her chest. She caught his hand and twisted around, bending his arm backward in an effort to wrest the knife free.

  It was a bad move. Her back was now to him. He wrapped his left arm around her neck. They both fought for control of the blade as he squeezed her throat ever harder.

  In rapid succession, Alina kicked the inside part of his knee while one hand grabbed his groin. She squeezed hard as she could. It had its expected effect.

  Egzon bent double, loosening his grip. Alina then spun, extending his right hand to hold the knife away. She tried rolling his wrist in a reverse lock, but the knife remained firmly locked in his grip. Giving up on the blade, she stepped clear, backing up for more room.

  Egzon barely hesitated. He limped in with a smile. Alina backed into a roadside tree. She spotted a fallen branch and snatched it up, smashing it across the trunk until she held a splintered shard in her hand. Egzon’s smile broadened at the pathetic sight and kept on coming.

  Alina met his advance with her own, swiping her makeshift weapon across his forearm, cutting an ugly gash from elbow to wrist. Passing him by, she stabbed him in the back. It was not deep, just enough to draw blood, but it had its intended effect.

  Egzon arched at the pain. He looked down in obvious surprise at the blood dripping from his arm. Alina spun and scraped the shard across his face, slicing his cheek.

  This time, Egzon backed off. He touched his face, his hand coming away bloody.

  Alina smiled and waited.

  Screaming loud, Egzon tried the bull rush again. As he neared, Alina grabbed his knife hand and rolled on her back while planting her feet into his chest. She then pushed hard, using his momentum to make him fly helplessly through the air once more. He landed on his back with a thud, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. The knife fell from his hand.

  His breathing came heavy now. He moved slower, less certain. He rose to his knees. Alina pressed her opportunity. She ran forward, jumped, and hit him in the face with both feet. Egzon sprawled onto his back, his nose broken. Alina turned her back to pick up the knife.

  Egzon moved faster than she expected. He landed on her back, knocking her to her knees. She stabbed him in the leg while swinging a vicious backhand elbow to his bloody nose.

  He rolled away. Alina let him go. Egzon suddenly made a dash for the truck. He reached into his backpack and extracted a gun. He turned and fired!

  The bullet buzzed by Alina’s ear.

  She spun quickly, barely avoiding another shot, and threw the knife.

  Egzon stumbled back, looking stupidly at the hilt protruding from his heart. He pulled it out. Blood pulsed through closed fingers. He looked at her with eyes wide. Alina stayed where she was, still on one knee, watching the man die.

  Egzon took one step forward then dropped to his knees. He tried to rise. He made it half way before falling face first into the dirt.

  Alina walked to him, her face expressionless. She reached down and took his wallet from his back pocket.

  “I believe you owe me fifty marks,” she said.

  When she looked inside, there was more inside the wallet than fifty—much more. Deciding Egzon would not need it anymore, she took it all and dropped the empty billfold on his back.

  Tossing the bloody stick away, she wiped the knife clean on his jeans. His bags were in the bed of the truck, and she tossed them out. She got her duffle and placed it in the passenger’s seat. Then she got into her pickup and made a U-turn, wondering if this encounter was any indication of her life to come in Serbia.

  One thing was certain: if she made the same mistakes with an experienced soldier as she had with an amateur like Egzon, she would be dead right now. She shook her head vigorously, chastising herself for being so sloppy. She had to up her game to survive her next encounter.

  Chapter 3

  When Alina reached the border with Serbia, there were two cars ahead of her at the checkpoint. She reached into her duffle to retrieve her passport and saw her gun and knives. Egzon’s still had blood on it.

  “Not good,” she said.

  She looked for a place to hide them.

  One car in front of her now. She did not have much time.

  She thought of the glove box. No, that was the first place they would look. Under the seat was out of the question as well.

  The border guards were inspecting the inside of the car in front. The driver stood to one side, looking pensive.

  Alina glanced at the guards, their blue uniforms pristine. She noticed one guard always stayed in the background, his hand near his gun. The first guard finished searching the car and inspected the driver’s passport. They were almost done with their inspection. The guard handed the driver back his passport.

  Finally, she felt under the dash. There was a cavity large enough to hold the weapons. They would not be secure, but it would get her through the checkpoint.

  The car in front of her drove off and the guard motioned her forward.

  “Passport and license, please.”

  She handed him the required items.

  The guard looked at her photograph and then looked at her. “Where are you going?”

  “Valjevo. I’m going to visit a friend.”

  “How long will you be staying?”

  “Just a couple of days at the most. We’re going shopping and a little sightseeing, that’s it.”

  “Uh-huh.” The guard did not smile but kept looking at her picture. He signaled the other man, who approached her car.

  Something’s wrong, she thought.

  “Turn off the engine and step out of the vehicle.”

  Alina did as instructed. “What’s the matter?”

  The man did not answer. While the other guard watched her, the first one leaned through the driver’s side and slid the duffle bag close to him.

  “Is there anything you wish to declare before I open this bag?”

  Alina shook her head, her eyes dancing from the bag to the dash to the guard watching her and back again.

  “No, nothing to declare. Just some clothes, that’s all.”

  The man opened the duffle and began emptying the contents across the front seat.

  Another
car pulled up behind her, blocking any escape she might have had in mind.

  When the guard was finished with the duffle bag, he said, “You can repack your things.”

  He signaled the second man, who began inspecting the undercarriage with an angled mirror on a long stick. The first guard looked in the bed of the truck. Empty. He ducked his head and looked under the driver’s seat. Satisfied, he walked around to the passenger side.

  What are they looking for? she thought

  He stopped at the rear quarter panel and squinted at a spot. Touching it, he then rubbed it between two fingers. He stopped the second guard and showed him. “Looks like blood,” he remarked.

  “Yeah, uh, I hit a rabbit back there,” Alina said. “Just ran right under my wheels. There was nothing I could do.”

  Both men stared at her. They looked at each other. Then without a word, the second guard continued his inspection of the undercarriage.

  The first man approached her. “You have a bruise on your chin. How did you get it?”

  “A bruise?” She felt her sore chin. “I hit it on the bathroom counter at the hotel I was staying in last night. I was reaching for my—”

  “Forget it. Stay here.”

  He went into the station house while the second guard stood watch. The look on his face was not friendly.

  After what seemed an eternity, the first guard emerged and handed her the stamped passport and license. “Okay, you can pass.”

  Alina tried not to show her relief. “What’s this all about?”

  “A murder was committed just off the road earlier this morning. Now, move along.” He waved the next car forward.

  Alina started the truck and moved out. She kept watching them in the rear view mirror, half-expecting them to race after her any second, but they were busy inspecting the next driver.

  She slowly built up speed until the station house faded from view. Only then did she relax.