“Well, we think he may be hiding in a basement.”
The police chief looked surprised.
“Does the villa have a basement? The plans we obtained from the zoning office show it to be a simple two-story building with no underground structure.”
“Well, we found a steel trap door in the floor so I assume it leads somewhere. We are bringing in a torch now to cut off the hinges so we can open the door.”
“I see. What in the world are all of these women doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question. You’re the law in this town.”
The police chief faked a look of innocent ignorance.
“We’ve heard rumors of foreign prostitutes plying their trade here, but this is the first time we have actually had more than rumor to go on.”
Yusuf struggled to control the anger he felt rushing into his brain.
You lying bastard. Over twenty foreign women held against their will, forced into prostitution, and you know nothing about it in a town this size?
“Well, I think you need to see the situation for yourself,” said Yusuf.
“Actually I have asked one of my lieutenants to handle these women. I assume they are all here illegally and without work visas, but we will need to document everything carefully. It is immoral sluts like these that corrupt our youth. They encourage drug use and spread STDs. This whole sordid affair will require an extensive investigation.”
“Which is exactly why I think you should come inside and see the situation for yourself,” insisted Yusuf again.
“I would love to, Captain,” responded the police chief, “But, the governor of Düzce will be here shortly for a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the new pipe factory, and I am going to be personally overseeing security for his visit, so I really don’t have the time.”
He paused and then added with a jerk of his head towards the women, “It is sad really that the Europeans cannot keep their women.”
“What do you mean?” asked Yusuf, fully aware of the direction the conversation was about to take.
“Well, you know what they say around here,” continued the police chief, “‘Keep a child in their stomach and a rod on their back.’ That’s the only way to keep a woman in submission.”
Now, Yusuf was at the boiling point.
“Can you give me just a moment, Chief?”
“Of course.”
Yusuf looked back at his men and saw Murat was still there. He shouted something in Russian to him and turned back to the police chief.
“Well, for my report, why don’t you tell me briefly what specific instructions were given to the team guarding the house after you received word from my office.”
Yusuf already knew what had happened because he had talked to both of the sergeants in charge, but he needed to keep the police chief here a few more minutes. He feigned interest as the police chief droned on about how seriously they had taken the orders from Ankara and about how they had followed standard protocol in setting up the watch. He was clearly concerned as he knew that any incompetence on his part in an operation as important as this one could cost him his job. Yusuf heard Murat address him in Russian from the front door and turned to see him standing there with the tall brunette and two other women. The police chief, however, kept talking and was facing away from the front door to the villa. Yusuf put his head down as if in thought and took several steps towards the villa. Then, he interrupted the police chief and asked, “Now, who did you say was on the team you sent?”
The police chief turned and followed him and Yusuf looked up at the Lieutenant standing in the doorway some twenty yards away. He saw two of the three women nod their heads vigorously. It was enough. He stopped and put his hand on the police chief’s shoulder.
“I will be sure to put it all in the report. Thank you for your time. I know that you have had a busy day today.”
“I wasn’t quite finished.”
“Of course, but the report doesn’t need to have all the details, does it? Give my regards to the governor.”
“Do you know him?”
“He was my classmate in high school.”
“Then, I will be sure to convey your greetings.”
Yusuf continued walking towards the villa and took the Lieutenant back into the main room.
“So, they’re sure?”
“Yes, two of them. They’re absolutely positive.”
“Fine. Call Özer in Eregli and tell him we want a bus, and we need it immediately.”
He looked through the open door of the villa to see his men unloading oxygen tanks and torch equipment. He wanted these women out of the building. It might not be safe. He walked over to the couch and stood on it so everyone could see him and then, in Russian, he said, “We believe there is a terrorist hiding in the basement of this building. He may be armed, and he may have explosives. I need all of you to dress warmly and move outside. My men will assist you.”
It wasn’t cold out, but he couldn’t remember the word for “modest” and he didn’t want to expose them to the hungry stares of dozens of men.
Murat had brought in the torch, and his men were moving the acetylene tanks into the back bedroom.
He moved towards the men and said, “Remember, I only want three people in the room with me, one operating the torch, one with his gun trained on that door and one to help remove the trap door once the hinges are off. Put your headlamps on high-beam. If they are down there in the dark and don’t blow us all to kingdom come when the door opens, they will be momentarily blinded when the door is jerked off and our light floods the basement. When I start talking into the bullhorn, you start cutting. I won’t stop until you have cut off both hinges. With any luck, they won’t be able to hear the torch over the bullhorn, and it will give us a tiny edge when we open the door.”
They entered the room quietly. He took a deep breath, turned the volume on the bullhorn all the way up and nodded. Yilmaz lit the torch and Yusuf began what sounded like a sincere attempt to persuade the terrorist to surrender. It was not as difficult as he imagined it might be to keep the words flowing. He just kept talking about how escape was impossible and how cooperation and surrender were the best course of action. They had estimated it would take four minutes to cut through both hinges. It turned out to be about three and a half. Yusuf drew his sidearm, a Ghost TR01, and trained it on the door. The man at his side had a fully automatic H&K G3 pointed at what was about to be a cavernous black hole. Yusuf gave the signal and the other two men lifted the door and jerked it aside.
Yusuf had expected shouts of
Allahüekber,
gunshots, or an explosion, but they were greeted with silence, and their headlamps revealed only a steel ladder leading down into blackness. Yusuf continued talking through the bullhorn, telling Bekir and his men to lay down their arms while one of the men threw a canister of teargas through the door.
“It’s a bloody tunnel not a basement.”
Yusuf shouted for Murat while the three men pulled on their gas masks. They waited forty-five seconds and then descended the ladder. Murat rushed into the room.
“What is it, Captain?”
“It’s a damn tunnel. That’s what it is. I have a bad feeling about this. Call the Navy base in Eregli. See if they have a chopper they can spare for us.”
“A chopper?”
“Yeah, and a coast guard cutter.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, this tunnel either comes out down by the shore or in a grove of trees somewhere. We need to have some eyes in the air as soon as the sun comes up and that means we have to hurry. I don’t know if these low-life scumbags are on land or at sea, but they damn sure aren’t underground.”
“Right away, sir.”
“And get a team up here to sweep the room for DNA samples. I want to know if Bekir was in this room.”
Yusuf walked out into the main room and was about to sit down on one of the couches when he heard one of his men arguing with a local policeman. He wearily changed course and headed for the front door. When he walked out the door, there were several uniformed policeman trying to herd the women unto buses and one of his men was arguing with the police lieutenant.
“Good morning, Lieutenant. Would you mind telling me what the hell you think you are doing?” asked Yusuf.
“Good morning, Captain,” replied the Lieutenant, “I have orders to take all of these prostitutes down to the station for identification and questioning.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen,” said Yusuf matter-of-factly.
The Lieutenant was a heavy-set man with a huge nose. His accent told Yusuf he was probably from the Aegean region, either Ushak or Denizli.
“Sir, with all due respect, you are the Captain of a counter-terrorism unit. Your job is to capture terrorists. Our job is to deal with petty crimes and misdemeanors. Let us do our job. We have dealt with whores like these before. We will handle these sluts, and they will pay dearly for seducing our young men and corrupting our family values.”
Yusuf felt his blood pressure rising again.
“These women may have valuable evidence regarding the whereabouts of our suspect. They will be transported to Ankara for questioning and issues regarding residency and work permits can be dealt with there.”
The Lieutenant acted shocked.
“Sir, you can’t be serious.”
“About what?”
“About trusting an infidel, much less a prostitute to give you accurate information.”
“Lieutenant, last time I checked, Turkey was still a secular republic that prohibited discrimination based on race, gender or religion. These people are human beings. They have rights and I have reason to believe that they were held here against their will.”
The Lieutenant bristled. He was clearly unaccustomed to dealing with people like Yusuf.
“Captain, with all due respect, you know how loose and promiscuous these foreigners are, especially the women. They have no honor. It is a shame that they are allowed to enter the country at all. Just look at what they do!”
Yusuf lost it.
“‘Look at what they do’, you say? Who are they fornicating with, Lieutenant? Themselves? Every province in the country has at least one state-run brothel. How many have you visited?”
“A couple. Before I was married.” He said it without any shame.
“And how many of those women were named Fatma, Ayse, Ebru or Selin?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Then tell me, you self-righteous jackass, how many of them were foreigners?”
The Lieutenant looked down at the ground. Yusuf moved closer and fairly screamed in his ear.
“How many were foreigners?”
The Lieutenant shifted his weight uncomfortably and continued staring at the ground. In a flash, Yusuf drew his revolver, chambered a round and put it to the Lieutenant’s head. Several policemen drew their weapons and shouted at the Captain to lower his weapon. Yusuf ignored them as he did the pleas from his own men.
“Answer me right now, or so help me God, I will blow your brains out.”
“One. I only saw one foreigner.”
“And did you sleep with her?”
The Lieutenant was shaking now and started babbling a prayer in Arabic, which infuriated Yusuf all the more.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time. Did you sleep with her?”
“No. She was too expensive.”