Border Angels (21 page)

Jozef Mikolajek reminded himself that women were always late as he waited in the empty bar. He could feel the weight of his anger rising in his chest, but he forced himself to be patient. He needed to control his emotions; otherwise, they might spoil all his preparations and the game he had devised this afternoon for Lena Novak. He must be calm, he told himself. He must remember the patience of the shepherds and hunters in the mountains above Zagreb. They knew that missing sheep always returned, bleating for help, and that, sooner or later, the prey came looking for the hunter. Those were the laws of the wild. The laws he had believed in all his life.

He went over to the door and checked the street. He watched as a young woman pushed a pram past the pub doors. Try as he might, he could not remember Lena Novak’s face very well. He had offered escape and a new life to so many girls from the east that recalling the details of one in particular was like trying to remember a glass of cheap wine he had drunk a long time ago. The kind of wine you gulp down carelessly, not thinking of the headache it might leave you with in the morning.

He sighed. The last few months had been some of the most difficult of his entire life. First, fearing a police swoop, he’d had to shut down the border brothel, then his fuel-laundering and bottling plant was raided, and, just a few days previously, the police had busted
Home Sweet Home
.
Suddenly, his entire criminal empire looked vulnerable. Anger swelled inside him again. That girl had somehow been the trigger for his bad luck. She had humiliated him more than any other living person had ever dared. Over the past two months, he had stockpiled enough revenge and anger to start another war, never mind kill her. Ever since she had escaped, he could feel his compatriots point at him and mock. “Look at him, he can’t even manage to control a simple woman from a mountain village.” No wonder his businesses had suffered so badly.

However, revenge wasn’t the principal reason he was waiting for Lena Novak in this dingy pub. It was money, or at least the promise of money. Enough money, he hoped, to put his criminal empire back on its feet again. For the first time in days, he smiled faintly. With so many personal setbacks, he had to learn how to appreciate the simple things in life: a fine wine rolled on the tongue, a good cigar, and this meeting with his missing prostitute, this promise of victory over a desperate woman. He was willing to spend the rest of the afternoon savoring her defeat.

A voice broke the silence.

“I didn’t realize they allowed animals in here.”

Mikolajek looked up toward Lena’s voice. He hadn’t heard her enter.

“Hedler’s out of town today,” he said. “He asked me to step in.”

She glanced nervously about the deserted bar. “I knew you’d be here waiting for me.”

He looked her up and down. A dim recollection came back to him of a winter landscape and a girl on a freezing cold bus. However, Lena Novak had changed since then. She stood before him dressed in a smart trouser suit with black leather shoes. Her short hair was swept back and her face carried just a hint of makeup. He raised an eyebrow. She looked like a cutthroat businesswoman instead of a whore on the run.

“Where’s your policeman friend? The loser in the ancient Renault.”

She ignored his question and sat down opposite him. She stared at him without blinking.

“Are you going to run again?” he asked.

She shook her head. “From the very beginning I knew you’d find me,” she said. “I came here so that you would see me as I am. An elegant woman with her own life ahead of her. Not a piece of trash for you to keep abusing.”

It was his turn to stare at her. Blinded by the mechanical business of selling sex, he had somehow overlooked the beauty that ran through her face and body. In her figure he saw the imprint of the girl he had known back in Croatia. He remembered a pretty dress she had worn once, held by delicate straps around her slender shoulders, but the memory quickly dissolved. A successful man never missed a business opportunity, he reminded himself, and a very important one had just fallen into his lap.

“You’re going to have to stop looking at me in that way,” she said.

“What way?”

“Like you want to hurt me.”

“Don’t worry I’m not going to harm you, Lena Novak,” he said. “At least not right now. In fact, I’m going to give you a chance to win your freedom.”

“That’s why I’m here. I want to pay for my liberty. No woman should have to put up with you around her neck for the rest of her days.”

“What about the money you owe me?”

From her handbag, she took out a bank statement, along with a money transfer for one million pounds, and handed them to him. “All this transfer needs is my signature and a passport to accompany it. You can fill out the details of the account you want the money paid into.”

His eyes flicked over the bank details. She produced another piece of paper, one that was crumpled and covered in her handwriting. It was a list of the women who had been trafficked and forced to work in the border brothel. She pushed it toward him.

“What’s this? Your Christmas card list?”

“I want you to free these women as well. The money will pay all our debts and compensate you handsomely for any losses.”

He allowed a minute to pass as he considered her proposition.

“Before I grant you your freedom, I’d like you to play a little game with me.”

He placed a set of dice before her.

“Fate set a trap for you, Lena,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “It took you away from your family and brought you to this country. Now we will find out whether you and the others deserve to go home free women. Odd or even numbers—you choose. If you win, then you are free to go with your friends. If you lose, then I get the money. And you go back to the business you know the best.”

“I already have my freedom. I’m not your slave anymore.”

“I’m not treating you as my slave. We’re equals at this table. Take the dice and when you throw make sure you don’t blink.”

He stared at her, awaiting her decision. “Come on, Lena. One thing I know about you is that you’re not a coward. You’re a woman of action. Winning and losing are part of life, except for cowards. And they never win.”

“They also never lose,” she replied.

She was tempted by the gamble. She felt enticed by his words, caught up by his promises, but it was not just the roll of the dice she was betting on; it was the belief that there was a kernel of honesty in his heart, in spite of all the evil that he had perpetrated. She lifted the dice.

“I take it this means yes.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your promises?”

“Why would I invent this game if I wasn’t convinced by it? I have everything, and you have nothing but a bank account you can’t access. If I wanted to, I could take the money off you right now. Throw the dice and we’ll see what fate has in store for you.”

She sat poised at one of those points in a life that can change everything. The dice felt cold and dead in her hands. She took a deep breath and threw them, trying not to think that a more deathly cold might await her.

“Your luck has run out,” Mikolajek said with a sneer when the dice rolled to rest. He stood up and enthusiastically pocketed the dice along with the bank documents Lena had left on the table.

She sat and looked around her. The bar was empty. There had been no one there to wish her good luck or witness her defeat.

“Just so you know, the police know I’m here,” she said without looking at him. “They’ll be looking for me.”

Mikolajek merely nodded. He did not appear concerned.

“Now that you’ve gambled your life away, Lena, I’m going to sell you for a good price,” he said. “To a man who’ll know how to control you. He does his business in the city. When he comes here, he’ll want to have a good look at you.”

“What makes you think I won’t run away again?”

“That would be a reckless course of action.” He removed a gun from his jacket. “Then you really would be screwing with your life.”

“I don’t belong to you or anyone else.”

“Let’s go. It’s time.” He grabbed her by her arm and dragged her to her feet.

“Why didn’t you just kidnap me in the first place?”

“It’s against the law in this country to take someone against their will.” He smirked. “Gambling, however, is not. The Irish understand gambling. They understand why someone like you with nothing to lose would gamble away her entire life.”

He took her out through the back of the pub, down a side street, and into a small garage. They walked into an office with a locked door. On the wall was an out-of-date calendar from Croatia showing the wrong month beneath a picture of snowy mountains and dark pine forests. It was like looking through a window at the past. The feeling of homesickness left her breathless.

Mikolajek took out a key and opened the door. Then he took down a length of rope from a shelf and shoved her into the room and onto a narrow bed. She fought him off as his hands reached to tear off her dress. This was the last time, she decided, as she felt his robust body press down on her with unrestrained lust and violence. She went down into the darkness where his groping hands did not reach. She drew strength from an inner reserve and came back up again for air just as he was coiling the rope around her wrists.

When she spoke, it was as if she were someone else, as if nothing she was saying had anything to do with her situation.

“Before you continue I have a confession to make.”

“What’s that?” He paused and stared at her pale face.

“I came here with a secret plan.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t come here to collect a passport. I came to see you and learn something about myself. To discover whether I’m a coward or not.”

He grinned at her, still uncomprehending. “You’re a prostitute. Deep down you enjoy these little sex games.”

“Perhaps you’re right. But why don’t you let me show you what I can do in bed. Let me be in charge. Just this once.”

Chuckling to himself, he climbed off her, propped a pillow behind his back, and leaned against the headboard.

“Take off your clothes,” she said, her voice commanding, with just a hint of wickedness in it. “Men always pay me to do what they want, not what I want.” She leaned toward him with the rope in her hands.

Mikolajek’s voice was dry. “I’ve done everything a man can dream of doing with a woman. And I’m still not satisfied. This time I want whatever you want.”

“Then you must give me a gift.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something that truly belongs to you.”

“What’s that?”

“Your fear.” She threw the length of rope at him. “I want you to tie yourself up.”

Without hesitating, he bound his hands together and secured them to the bed rail with his teeth. The game totally absorbed him, his growing arousal distracting him from any sense of danger. He felt a vitality course through his veins that he had not experienced in months. She kneeled in front of him and secured his feet with the rest of the rope. Then she stood before him. For a long time she said nothing.

He waited, growing uncertain. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he said aggressively.

She did not reply.

Arousal was beginning to drain from his body. He felt uncertain and vulnerable. “What type of game are you playing?”

He started untying his hands with his teeth, but before he could struggle free, she had removed a gun from her handbag. He was surprised to see her hold the gun correctly, like a professional. They sat at opposite ends of the bed. He was aware that she had only to let her little finger slip or be startled by a slight noise for the gun to go off.

“I can smell your fear,” she said. “I can see the blood pumping in your throat.” She had the confidence of someone who for the first time in her life was playing a leading role in her destiny. “You’ve been losing a lot of business recently.” Her voice was mocking.

“What makes you think so?”

“That’s the way it looks to me. First your brothel goes, and your illegal fuel plant, then your little money-laundering operation at Home Sweet Home.”

“You think someone is trying to put me out of business?”

“Someone has put you out of business.” She smiled. “It’s been good to know that you’ve been suffering. I’ve had a lot of fun watching your evil little empire fall apart.”

Mikolajek frowned. He did not like the vulnerable position he was in, and he liked even less her line of questioning. What was she hinting at? That she was somehow behind the trouble he had been having. His brain grasped at the meaning behind her words as he stared at his bound feet, which were as white and helpless as the feet of a corpse.

“No one likes having his life hurled into chaos,” she said. “Think of what it must have felt like for a nineteen-year-old girl to have her heart deceived by a beast like you.”

The door opened behind her. A man with a limp stepped into the room and waited discreetly as though attending the scene of an execution.

Lena turned and acknowledged his arrival with a brief nod. Then she ran the muzzle of the gun along Mikolajek’s throbbing throat.

“I have given away too much pleasure, Jozef. Now all I have to offer is pain. I am Lady Death. If you want to sleep with me, you must sleep with death.”

A hand grabbed Mikolajek and shook him fiercely, summoning him back to consciousness, to the nauseous smell of sweat and cigarette smoke, every hair on his body bristling as he took in his surroundings. Someone had placed a gag over his mouth, but left nothing to shield his eyes. Although there was more darkness than illumination in the room, he could make out a window with a set of metal bars and, in the wall to the right, a door with no handle. His body ached where they had tied him with ropes.

He watched a set of bluish shadows move and converse around him. Beneath the throbbing surface of pain, his thoughts revolved slowly, taking in the hushed voices. A sense of panic overwhelmed him when he realized he was trapped in a room full of lost people, the women he had taken from families and loved ones in the villages of Croatia and Albania. His body writhed on the ground, struggling against the ropes that bit into his flesh, until someone placed a damp rag over his nostrils and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

He opened his eyes to find himself looking at a creature with inquisitive gray eyes. This time his body was strapped tightly to a chair and he could not move. He wondered, was it a bird or an animal? Perhaps a fox or even a wolf? His body contorted and his eyes bulged as he tried to strike out, but they had tied his hands too tightly. The pair of eyes gaped closer, widening all the time, drawing him into the darkness of its pupils. He recoiled in terror, realizing that it was the face of a woman inspecting him hungrily. A smile appeared on her face.

“For God’s sake, help me,” he whispered in his own tongue, but she did not flinch. He kicked back in the chair and struck his head against a cement floor. Everything went black again.

The voices returned, striking through the haze of his consciousness. This time, they had blindfolded him.

“Are the others ready?” said an anxious voice. “Will they agree to be part of this?”

“Of course they will. Evil must be matched with evil. That’s the only solution for women like us who are beyond the reach of justice.”

He drifted back into darkness.

“How will we do it?” A woman’s voice roused him again.

It seemed he had awoken at precisely the right moment in their conversation. A voice he recognized as Lena’s spoke. “He will die like a dog. That is all he deserves.”

Then the women spoke in unison, some of their voices trembling, as they swore an oath of allegiance. He could not make out all the words, but the determination they expressed seared into his consciousness. A pair of hands removed his blindfold. He blinked, eyes burning in the bright light. A circle of hooded faces surrounded him, jolting him back to cold reality.

“We are your sisters,” announced Lena. “Lost women from broken places. We have no names, no faces. We have taken you hostage so that we can wear your face and you can wear ours.”