by Dana Arama
Although the action in these kinds of clubs starts after midnight, I had expected more people. This had its pros and cons. On one hand it would be easier to find out who were the real stars, and on the other, they may not have yet arrived. And who has all the information, if not the stars of the show?
The answer was the waitresses. The older ones, the ones who didn’t up and quit every other day, because they can’t afford to lose their job, and because they have become an asset to the owners.
I smiled at the waitress who approached me. She returned the smile, which showed her beauty but also showed the wrinkles of fatigue and age.
“What’s your name?” I enquired.
“Serina,” she answered and then asked, “What would you like to order?”
“Whiskey, straight up. Would you like to join me for a drink, Serina?” I asked as I slipped another note in her hand. “I have a question and I think you may have the answer.”
She took the note and answered, “Gladly, a few minutes break won’t hurt me.”
I handed her another note and smiled, “And I need the companionship.”
About five minutes later, she was sitting next to me with a thick glass in her hand. The bluish light flashed upon her face, making her look old and young by turn. She said, “Which of the girls would you like to ask about?”
“I understand that you know all of them.”
“With my seniority here, yes. I know them all.” She took a long drink and coughed a bit, “Are you looking for someone who is still performing or has already left?” And then she added, for seemingly no reason, “Lately quite a few girls have left. A lot of Black girls have come, and the white girls have left.”
“Why?”
“Because the owners have changed. The attitude has changed… the status of the club has changed.”
“And you knew the former owners?”
She glared at me and then fell silent. She then put her glass down, still full, and said abruptly, “My break has ended. I have to get back to work.”
Before she managed to stand up, I put my hand on her shoulder and pinned her down. “I need to reach Zorro.” I whispered in her ear, “It is a matter of life and death of someone who is very dear to her.” That was half a lie, but it got her listening.
“How do you know someone who is dear to her?
“From Israel,” I answered quickly.
“Only those close to her know about her Israeli past.” Her body language showed she now felt at ease and when I was sure that she wouldn’t get up and leave, I released my grip. “She moved elsewhere.”
“When did this happen?” I asked, and then added, “Where did she move to?
“Immediately after she got out of prison and sold her place to this rapper.” Her face showed discontent with this change.
“I need to know where she is or how I can contact her.”
“I can’t tell you how you could contact her. When she wants to cut herself off even God couldn’t find her…”
“What did she go to prison for?”
“They blamed her for managing a brothel. Which wasn’t true!”
“Besides you, who else knows her here?”
“Donna, the main dancer. She’s the undisputed queen of the place and that’s why the rapper didn’t have her fired.”
“When can I have a word with her?”
“She goes on at midnight. In a few minutes this place is going to fill up, because regardless of their color, men like beautiful women who know how to move their bodies.” Serina took a sip of her drink and then finished it. She said, “If you manage to slip out backstage, you may find her in her private room. Look for the letter ‘D’ on the door. I will ask her to leave the door unlocked, but you will need to overcome the guard yourself. If she agrees to talk to you, her door will be unlocked.”
I thanked Serina and watched as she walked away towards the bar. She ordered a drink and then she turned towards the far left of the stage. A big built bodyguard stood there in the shadows, Serina exchanged a few words with him, then she moved the heavy curtain aside and disappeared in what looked like, from where I was sitting, a long, well-lit corridor.
I looked at my watch. Eight minutes had passed, and I quickly texted, “I need a diversion inside”
He replied promptly, “Coming now.”
The heavy curtain opened again and Serina walked out with empty glasses on her tray. I tried to read her face, to see if Donna had agreed or not, but she was not sending any messages from afar. Soon, the heavy door opened and in walked a noisy, bearded drunk and who straight to the bar.
“Tequila! I want tequilaaaa!” He rolled the word like in the famous song and put his arms around the two men sitting at the bar.
“Take your hands off, you dirty drunk!” yelled one of the guys and the other immediately jumped up from his seat.
I had my eyes on the guard standing near the corridor. He had already left his position and was now striding towards the bar. I disappeared into the dimness near the wall and moved quickly towards the opening. Without looking back, I moved the curtain aside and went in. The hallway was short and ended in stairs, which led onto the stage. On one side there was one room crowded with women, mirrors and lights. On the other side, there were two closed doors. On one of them appeared the letter ‘D’. I pushed the handle down and the door opened. She had agreed to talk to me.
“Hi Donna,” I said to the beautiful, red-haired woman before me. She sat in a transparent black gown, opposite the well-lit mirror.
“Lock the door, please.”
I locked the door and said the image in the mirror, “I understand that you know what I’m looking for.”
“The rumors are that she may be in Mexico. Cancun. Managing some sort of establishment, a strip bar maybe. A studio for acrobats on a pole. Or maybe a brothel… a rumor I find hard to believe, but I have heard that rumor too.”
“So, my destination is Mexico,” I murmured to myself.
“It doesn’t matter what she is managing, her girls are always clean and well-protected. If you don’t find her place, find out where girls go, when they are in trouble. It is most probably to her. And when you see her, tell her that Donna said that she is still clean and if she needs me, I am willing to pack my bags and go to her. Anytime, anyplace.”
I smiled at her. “I will pass on your message,” I promised Donna and then asked, “Do you happen to know the name of the establishment she is running?”
“No…” She stopped and thought, and then added hesitantly, “Before she left she said that she was going to have to fight for her life and that she wants to see the sword in front of her when she opens her eyes in the morning and every night before she closes them. Maybe she called the place ‘Sword’...” She smiled an embarrassed smile and added, “It’s just a thought... I’m sorry. I don’t really know.” She got up from her seat, “I have to get ready to go on stage and you have to get out of here. If the guard sees you leaving my room or in the corridor, he will most certainly kill you.”
“So he better not see me.” I smiled.
“Or better he sees you with me. Let me escort you out.”
She was taller than I thought, maybe because of her high heels. She unlocked the door and peeked outside. “He’s not here, but most probably is standing on the other side of the curtain.” She looked behind her and whispered, “Follow me.” We walked along the short corridor, the noise from the other side of the curtain had calmed down. She pulled the curtain aside and the guard glared at me. She ignored him, put her arms around me and gave me a long kiss. I played along, willingly. From the corner of my eye, I could see he relaxed a bit and turned around.
She smiled and said, “Come and visit again…” and vanished into the corridor. I thought that in her smile she hid a promise to more than just a kiss to a stranger.
I als
o had to get back to Laura with the news. I once again glanced at my watch. The time had flown by and it was close to midnight. The place had started to fill up with men, but the drunk was not amongst them. When I walked out, the bluish neon lights blazed on all of a sudden and hit me, as did the stickiness of the humidity. I stopped for a moment and checked my surroundings. He sat down with his back to the wall, between two garbage bins, which hid him from the road. What gave his place away was the flickering of his cigarette. When he saw me, he got up and came up to me. He was a young man but looked older because of the disheveled beard and the look of the sloppy drunk. I didn’t take my eyes off him and didn’t move from where I was standing.
“Sir, a green dollar for a black day?” He came up to me with his hand outstretched.
I put my hand in my pocket and took out a dollar note. I put it in his hand without breaking eye contact with him. He took the note without thanking me, put a cheap lighter on the lid of the garbage bin and went on his way. One might think that his last cigarette, which hung between his lips, had finished the lighter and that’s why he left it there. I walked over to the alleyway, collected the lighter in a swift move and put it in my pocket. While my hand was still in my pocket, I quickly dismantled the lid with my thumb. A round silicone ball rolled into my palm. I quickly strode towards the car. The crispiness of the air in the car felt especially good. “Cancun, Mexico.” I said and sat down.
“Sounds logical. She has some great connections there.” Laura checked her mirrors and announced, “I have to stop at two other places and from there, to the most beautiful beach in the world.”
“It really is a nice beach. And we are looking for something that has to do with a sword, most probably.”
She gave me a disappointed look. “That’s all the information you came up with?”
“That’s all the information she had. We will have to make do with it, even though it is minimal.”
Within seconds Laura had donned her cold identity once again and answered, “I suppose you are right; this is a start too.”
The first stop was less than thirty minutes later, next to a well-lit, isolated glass building. The FBI offices at Miramar. Laura’s authority allowed me a visitors’ access to the entrance of the extravagant lobby, where there was a place to buy coffee, sandwiches and snacks, along with a huge TV screen that reported the news non-stop. Three people waited there, ignoring the news flickering on the screen. One of them lay down, sprawled out across three chairs, the other two sat next to each other and had fallen asleep with their heads leaning on one another. Their heads together formed a cloud of dark, wiry hair, which looked as if it could pour down from the sky at any minute. In contrast to the three peaceful people, the fourth, a Hispanic woman, nervously nibbled at a snack, making crunching noises and never taking her eyes off the screen. Her crunching reminded me just how hungry I was. It was already past midnight and all I had eaten in the last hours was peanuts on the plane and some cheap whiskey. I had tried all three vendors by the time Laura returned. My phone was fully recharged and so was I. Thoughts of Jonathan haunted me and, despite the late hour, and that I was certain no one was awake to take my call, I called the house.
“There is no news. They are combing the streets, trying to look in the last place his computer sent a pinpoint,” my brother updated me. I heard the despair in his voice, and I was sorry I could not be there, beside him.
I remembered that when my wife was killed in front of my eyes, all those years ago, I was consoled in the knowledge that she hadn’t suffered. It was unexpected, it was quick and fatal. A terrorist attack on a bus in Jerusalem. A sliver of metal penetrated her neck, ending her life then and there.
But for my brother… I didn’t have the words to console him. His kid had been taken from him by someone known for his cruelty, and if the kid returned, who knew what kind of rehabilitation he’d need to go through after such trauma. “Think positively,” I mumbled into the telephone. “All of the American forces are on hand and behind them the State of Israel, too. We’ll get him back home.”
He was silent. I could hear his ragged breathing. He was crying or trying not to. “We will get him back,” I said again, this time to reassure myself.
My next call was to my boss. I just said, “I have received it.”
And he answered, “I know.” After a moment he added, “Because of the circumstances, this is the maximum I can do in such a short notice.”
“I know and I appreciate it greatly.” I thought it was important to tell him that he was not getting involved in a diplomatic incident, so I added, “I am on my way to Mexico.”
“I hope you’re going surfing in Puerto Escondido in Oaxaca,” I heard the clink of his ever-present whiskey glass as he set it down on the desk. “And don’t get up to mischief with whoever you’re not supposed to.”
“I think the part of getting up to mischief is more likely...unless you tell me you have found the kid, found the terrorist cell and everyone got what’s coming to them.”
“God willing, the FBI, the CIA and the blue police willing, that will happen as well.”
“And we are still remaining behind the scenes.”
“Of course. When we are not mentioned, it is a reason to rejoice.”
Laura appeared from around the corner with a sandwich and a smile on her face. I showed her the empty carton, indicating that I had already eaten and said to my boss, “I’m on my way. We are trying to enter through the back door.”
“Be careful. Remember that every person can be bought and there is a lot of money to buy a lot of people.”
“We’ll be in touch soon,” I said.
“Don’t trust anyone.”
I thought that was strange advice, since I was hanging around with someone that he had sent to me but didn’t say anything. He was right. Neither of the two were from my team. They were not my sisters-in-arms but incidental passers-by towards the same assignment, with their own agenda.
A second before he cut off the call, I heard him say, “If it were my boy in that situation, I would be comforted knowing you were involved.”
I glanced at my watch. Time was running out and we still had another stop before we got onto a flight to Cancun. We got into the elevator and when the doors closed Laura said joyfully, “I got us a plane, a pilot and an open ticket for this mission.” She looked at her watch. “I estimate that with my other stop we need to make, it will take three hours and we will have reached Zorro. I put out a search and they found three bars where the name ‘sword’ appears, but only one exclusive strip club by the name of ‘Foil.’ I’m betting on that one.”
“Listen, I hope your bet is supported by more than a clue from that waitress at the club, because we are talking about forty miles of clubs and hotels.” I tapped my watch with my finger, and said, “And our time is running out”
“It is well supported besides the name. Actually, the information shows that the club was established after Zorro got out of prison. Also, the timetable and the location, both line up.” She smiled and twirled the keyring around her finger, “And also the ownership documents --”
“Under the name of Alex Romanekova?”
She shook her head three times, with certainty, “By the name Vladimir Volonitz.”
I stopped, “And why does that make us happy?”
“Because Vladimir Volonitz is the name of her legendary coach.”
I smiled. “Close enough.”
“Close enough and an hour and a quarter’s flight… One more stop and we are on track.”
Laura Ashton,
Miami, November 12, 2015, 1:35 a.m.
The apartment where I lived in Washington I called ‘The apartment’. The apartment in Miami I called ‘My home’. Probably because it had a past. I had memories of family dinners, birthday parties, a short but meaningful love. I had not let anyone into this home, unless th
ey were part of my past. And still, I asked Guy to come up. It didn’t seem right to let him wait in the car. I didn’t mean for anything to happen between us, and I also hadn’t planned on feeling attracted to him, even though he was very attractive.
We waited in the lobby for the elevator and three heavy, elderly women joined us. When the elevator finally arrived, it was the smaller of the three and it was crowded. The elevator filled up with the exciting topic of the game of bridge by people I couldn’t stand. Having no choice, I had to stand close to Guy. I felt his solid chest with my shoulder. He laid his arm on the wall of the elevator and that way allowed me more space. Suddenly I became aware of all our contact points with his body. With his muscular arm, his tough thigh.
Over the last few months, since Gail had disappeared from my life, I focused only on finding her. She was the only person important in my life and I was important to her. I spent all my free time looking for her, until I severed all contacts with friends and only kept friends whom I thought could help me. I disconnected myself from old lovers and only reconnected ties if I thought they could further me in my investigation when needed. I forgot what it was like to make love and only used sex as a tool to get information out of my partner. And even sex faded away over time. The presence of Guy in such close proximity, and especially now, only reminded me of my self-imposed abstinence.
We were partners on this journey, but only part of it was aboveboard. Without him knowing, we started on this journey, each with a different motive, and, not by chance, crossed paths. Not by chance, because as soon as I had seen that Murat Lenika was involved, as soon as I had come across his connections with the Sinaloa cartel in my prior investigation to find her, I knew I had to lead this investigation. So, I persuaded my skeptical boss of my ability to lead a large scale investigation such as this one.
