“I’ve hotsynched it,” Vanner said, unplugging the cord. “We’ve got the whole thing. Including his list of clients and who bought what girl, etcetera. But you’ve got to see this.”
Mike picked up the PDA and looked at the picture. Then he walked back over and opened up the folder, pulling out the pic of the girl on the beach.
They were identical. And there was more than one. Most of the rest were of the same girl, without the bathing suit.
“Nice tits,” Mike said. “We’ve got what we want. Close it down and call in the clean-up team.”
“Penny for your thoughts, Mike?” Adams said.
They’d made it from Chisinau to Vatra Dornei in one day by hard travelling. The crossing at Gotesti had been guarded but they’d gotten through that by slipping the appropriate amount of klei to the guards.
Once in Romania they’d gotten on National Route 17, which would have just about been an adequate to a poorly maintained county road in a poor county in the states, and made the best time they could, ignoring the potholes to the extent they could. By just after dusk they’d made it to Saratel, short of Cluj-Napoca but not by much. However, that was the area that Pasha had reported had roadblocks so Mike decided to settle in at a small hotel that generally catered to Transylvanian tourists and move on the next day.
He set the bottle of beer on his stomach and considered the chief’s question.
“Well, I’m wondering if we weighted the body enough,” Mike admitted. “I think a couple more concrete blocks would have been a good idea.”
“He’ll stay down long enough,” Adams said, shrugging. “And it’s not like they’re going to be looking at us. He had a lot of enemies. We were barely on his radar horizon.”
“And I’m wondering what the hell I’m going to do with whatsername,” Mike admitted.
“You mean Oksana?” Adams asked. “Nice girl. She can ride on my lap the rest of the way.”
“I mean long term,” Mike replied. “The same problems apply to her that apply to all the other waifs I’ve been picking up. I need to find a boarding school in Argentina or something that will start taking them in.”
“Worry about that after the mission’s over,” Adams suggested.
“Good point,” Mike said, frowning and taking a pull off the beer. “And I’m wondering just what the fuck we’re really chasing.”
“Ah, now we get to the source of your angstiness, Great Leader,” Adams said. “You got another one of those?”
“Cooler,” Mike said. “There are three bits of information to sort. What we were told. What we know is true. And what we know about the overall situation. We were told that the girl was a dependent of a rich constituent. That is, almost certainly, a lie. If she was, when she got into that crap she would have screamed bloody murder about how they could make more money off of her from her father. And Yuri was pretty damned sure that she wasn’t an American. When he was begging for his life, he added that she didn’t even speak English, only Russian. So…”
“So, she’s not what the fine senator told you,” Adams said, belching. “We’re still going to find her, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Mike said. “For one thing, there’s a rich senator who owes me one huge fucking favor for sending me on a wild goose chase when I could be fucking my harem. And for another, this has already cost like crazy. He’s in for the five mil or we’ll be committing crimes against the peace in the Continental United States. I’m wondering why we’re really here.”
“Well, we know the senator really wants to find her,” Adams pointed out.
“Do we?” Mike said. “Or are we just being diverted from something else? Is the senator, for example, running a scam with the Chechens to get us out of the valley so we can get hit while the team is gone?”
“Pretty unlikely,” Adams said, frowning. “I don’t know what they could use as payment to the senator and so we’re gone? The other five teams are still there. And Nielson’s running the store. That one doesn’t wash.”
“I’m brainstorming,” Mike pointed out. “First you come up with the ideas. Later you knock them down. Okay, that one wasn’t so great. But why? And if he does want her found, why? And why me?”
“You can find her and are imminently deniable,” Adams pointed out. “How many people could testify that they saw you and the senator together? And nobody but the two of you know what was said in the room.”
“The secret service guys saw us meet,” Mike said. “On the other hand, I don’t know they’re service. And that guy on the Moldava desk.”
“And you know he exists?” Adams asked.
“Ouch,” Mike said, grimacing. “Nope.”
“Something for Vanner to research,” the chief said. “And one more thing.”
“Go,” Mike said.
“Who besides Nielson is briefed in and not on the op?” Adams asked.
“Nobody,” Mike said, frowning. “Why? You think somebody’s going to try to clean us up? Good luck.”
“There’s always poison, but no,” Adams said. “I was wondering who could be broken free to go have a chat with your friends in Washington.”
“No one,” Mike admitted. “But good point. At this point we’re in fuck-up zone. I’ll put Sawn on it. I can spare him. We’re really running the team and he can think on his feet. Time to cover our ass.”
“Or somebody’s anyway,” Adams said. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to end up getting fucked somehow.”
“Or somebody will,” Mike said.
Chapter Fourteen
Timisoara turned out to be a fairly interesting place, for a Romanian city.
Much more Western in design and feel than the other towns they’d passed through, Timisoara had a rich history. The fertile bottomland around the river Timis had attracted settlement as early as 200 BC. Subsequently, the area had been held successively by the Dacians, the first known settlers, the Romans, the Magyar, the Ottomans, the Hapsburgs and every other notable group in Eastern Europe’s history. Burned to the ground by the Mongols, burned again when retaken from the Ottomans, who had made it a central military repository and armory, it was rebuilt for the last time by the Hapsburgs and still retained their baroque influence. It was that influence, to a large degree, that set it off from other Romanian towns.
The reasons it had been fought over so often were apparent. The Timis river gave it easy navigation and it had close ties to the various mines in the Transylvanian region. With a strong road and rail network, it was one of the vital strategic points in the area called the Banat with links to Hungary, and thus the West, and Serbia to the Balkans.
The same reasons that every major conqueror had captured or destroyed it now made it a central way-point for the transport of nubile flesh.
Smegnoff’s helpful PDA had listed the buyer of Natalya as one Nicu Gogasa, a man with whom he’d done extensive business. There was even a pic of Gogasa sitting in the Café Arrenica with the late and unlamented Yuri, both of them with young, lightly dressed females sitting on their laps. They were clearly good buddies. Nicu was much slighter than Yuri and better, even flashily, dressed. He looked more like a mildly successful American pimp than a mafia thug. There were contact numbers including cell, a PO box for mail, and a physical address: the Club Dracul. They even had a website that included a map.
Many Romanian official records turned out to be on the internet. From these, with the sometimes problematic assistance of an online translator, Vanner had been able to determine that Nicu Gogasa was listed as the sole owner of the Club Dracul. Mike found it unlikely that he was really the sole owner. He looked far too flashy. Clubs were a great place to wash money, so the mob was probably a silent backer. But it meant he was probably going to be around the club.