Venice Black

by Gregory C. Randall

  Javier casually pushed open the stairwell door, walked up behind the second guard, and aimed his Taser at the man’s back. When Javier activated his weapon, Nox swung his Taser up and fired. Both guards were quickly gagged, blindfolded, and bound with duct tape. They slid the unconscious men around the corner of the hallway, out of sight from the main corridor. Javier found a key card in one of the men’s pockets.

  “Now the fun begins,” Javier said. “Quick peek. Ready?”

  Javier pulled the pin on a flash grenade and held it tight while Nox slipped the card in the door and the light went green. Nox pushed open the door and took a look around. “Go.”

  Javier reached over Nox’s arm and pitched the grenade into the room. Nox pulled the door tight. Instantly, a loud bang and a halo of light encircled the doorway.

  “Go,” Javier said.

  Nox keyed the lock again and jerked the door open. Javier pushed past and scanned the room. Four men were down and rolling on the floor, their hands on their ears. A woman lay next to the men, her hands to her face. In the center of the room sat Alex and Marika, blindfolds over their eyes, dazed and pained looks on their identical faces.

  Nox secured the four men’s hands and feet with tape and placed a strip over their mouths. He assumed that two of them were bodyguards; all were regaining some of their confused senses.

  Javier, after taping the woman’s hands, feet, and mouth, cut Alex and Marika free. When he removed Alex’s blindfold, she smiled.

  “Took you long enough,” she said, “but damn, you make a lot of noise.”

  “The cowboys to the rescue,” Javier said. “We need to move. Nox?”

  Nox was helping Marika to her unsteady feet. “Ready. We are out of here.”

  As they led the women out, Javier saw the hatred in Kozak’s eyes. It was a palpable hatred. He now knew why Marika was doing what she was doing. He looked at Marika, who straightened herself, let go of Nox, and kicked the general in his side, driving the air from his lungs. Then she grabbed her satchel bag from the chair.

  “Next time kick him in the balls for me,” Alex said, pulling Marika away from him.

  Javier and Nox led the women down the stairs and out into the garden. Javier set a fast pace through the tangle of shrubs and garden beds. Luckily, there was no one about.

  When they reached the boat, Marika, exhausted, had to be helped into the launch. The others climbed in after her. Nox took the helm and aimed the boat at Piazza San Marco’s illuminated campanile across the lagoon.

  Javier took Nox’s place at the helm as the sergeant slipped on jeans and a sweater from a bag in the cabin. The women sat facing each other on the long bench seats; neither said anything. Nox offered the women water, and they both emptied the bottles. He then handed out sweaters and jackets. Still, they shivered from the cold. The trip across the lagoon to the Grand Canal was slow, the rain had started again, and it took time to maneuver the launch into the narrow canal that led to the plaza in front of Ai Reali.

  In the dark quiet of the canal, Marika said, “Ehsan will be frantic. Did you say anything to him?”

  “No,” answered Javier. “We wanted as little interference as possible. I’m not sure I knew what he would do.”

  “He will still be upset. He’s probably called the police.”

  “Nothing has come across the scanners,” Nox said. “Roberto kept a lid on it when he was towed in by the police. Said it was something about a labor dispute. He hopes that the police buy it. The police are looking in another direction and for a different kind of boat. The reports from those at the hotel are just adding to the confusion.”

  “Nice to have friends,” Alex said.

  “I’ve been through worse,” Marika said. “And I don’t think I have to worry about Kozak tonight.”

  “Yeah, last time I saw him he was tied up,” Alex said. She wasn’t smiling.

  “Will I see you in the morning?” Marika said. “Will you have good news?”

  “Yes, hopefully by late afternoon,” Javier answered. “Then we will see what happens.”

  “Yes, then we will see your government’s true face.”

  Marika climbed onto the small dock, then up onto the plaza. Without saying a word she turned and walked toward her hotel.

  “I’m going to get those assholes,” Alex said to Javier. “You said that shooting wasn’t the answer. Right now it is.” Alex shivered under the nylon jacket that Nox had slipped over her sweater. “I have no idea what they were trying to do. The woman with Kozak is a piece of work. I am sure she’s the brains behind Kozak. He’s nothing but a thug. She, on the other hand, had finesse. Marika? Now, that’s one tough broad. We both took a few solid hits to the face. She spit at them.”

  “Get a name?”

  “Hers was Magda or Maja, something like that, I think. Did not hear or understand a last name. The man was Kozak—that I’m sure of. She called him ‘general’; he was the man who slapped us. Only when you pulled the blindfold off me did I notice the other man, who was in uniform.”

  “He is Colonel Oskar Vuković,” Nox said. “Don’t know the woman.” He maneuvered the boat back into the Grand Canal. “Vuković and Kozak go way back, like old gangsters-in-arms. He was with Kozak in Bosnia. I’ll check on the woman when I reach the house.”

  “Where are we going?” Alex asked.

  “To your hotel,” Javier said.

  “No way. I’m staying with you tonight. You can’t get rid of me like Marika.”

  “Marika will be okay, and so will you,” Javier said. “Mr. Nox made some arrangements with a local security agency who are watching her hotel. She will be safe.”

  “And the same for me? Like hell, I’m sticking with you. No one kidnaps this girl, drugs her, and trusses her up like a pig. I’m with you, Special Agent Castillo, like it or not.”

  Nox leaned over and whispered into Javier’s ear, “I like her.”

  “And you, Master Sergeant, are not helping.” Javier looked at Alex. “It’s your butt.”

  “Please . . . my butt’s fine now, thanks to you,” she answered. “Is this rescue all your doing, Mr. Nox?”

  Nox didn’t reply, and continued maneuvering through the canals.

  Turning to Javier, she asked, “The driver, your friend Roberto, is he okay?”

  “He was nicked in the arm by Kozak’s men as they fled. He’s pissed they shot up his boat. The repair bill will be significant. I’ll try and find some account I can use to make it right.”

  “Not sure what he could have done. It was a sudden shock for all of us. Tell him thanks for trying.”

  “Will do,” Javier said. “Marika seems to have come out of it all right.”

  “I don’t know, there’s something about that woman. Chalk it up to my detective skills. Something hinky.”

  “Hinky—that fits,” Nox said as a panel door opened, rolling up from the surface of the canal. He idled the boat into its slip. The door slid silently down behind them, and overhead lights came on. “After I secure the boat, I’ll meet you two upstairs.”

  When they reached the office, Javier poured two straight Boodles on the rocks. Nox entered, and Javier handed him a beer from the small refrigerator.

  “Now I know why you have 007 on your phone,” Alex said as she habitually reached for her handbag to retrieve her phone. “Damn it. They have my bag! In all the chaos I forgot to grab it. Phone, passport, money—dammit. I watched Marika grab hers but never thought of mine.”

  Javier stopped and thought for a moment. “You’re burned now. This may change things.”

  “May? Dammit, Javier, I do not have a passport, no way off this damn island with its stupid thousand years of history. I can’t even buy an espresso. They have my room’s key card and my gun.”

  “If you need a gun so bad, I’ll get you another. That’s not a problem. The real problem is what they are going to do with it. They’ve shown their hand. They are now willing to do anything to stop Marika.”

  CHA
PTER 22

  “No, I am not moving. Ehsan is here. I’m safe.” Marika lit another cigarette and walked around the room, her phone on speaker. “Agent Castillo, I am very glad you rescued me, but for right now, I’m staying here. You do what you need to, but until Thursday morning, I am not moving from here.”

  “There are two security people out in the passageways around the hotel,” Javier said. “They will run interference. But I’m concerned.”

  “I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you did tonight, but who said you have to protect my mother?” Ehsan said. He was sitting in a chair in the corner of the suite. “That is not why you are here. We have managed quite well for the last twenty years; it is not your job or the job of the United States to watch over us. We do not expect it and actually don’t want it. Please remember the only request we have made of the United States is to support our claims that Kozak is a mass murderer and a perpetrator of crimes against humanity. This kidnapping just confirms that. With your government’s support, we could go to The Hague and put this criminal in prison. The sooner they make their declaration, the safer we will be.”

  “This rescue was unofficial, off the books,” Javier said. “No one will ever know about this kidnapping. That is the way it has to be.”

  “Never know about the kidnapping?” Alex asked, joining the conversation. “Can’t we get the Italians to arrest him for that?”

  “Ms. Polonia, legally speaking, what kidnapping?” Ehsan said. “There will be no police report, thanks to Agent Castillo. There is nothing to link Kozak to what happened. And I’m sure Kozak is not going to ask the authorities for help. It would be your story against his. And from what I’ve read about you, Ms. Polonia, let’s just say your story would raise many questions.”

  “What the hell do you know about me?”

  “I know about Cleveland, and I know about your ex-husband. What I don’t know is why you are here. Maybe your government is involved with something that Agent Castillo has neglected to tell us. A professional police detective shows up in Venice, at exactly this time, who looks remarkably like my mother. All very suspicious to us—we who are suspicious of everything.”

  Shocked, Alex started to say something, but Javier put his finger to his lips.

  “What I’ve told you is true,” Javier said. “Everything is true. But Ms. Polonia is, against my own beliefs, a coincidence, a fluke, a strange accident.”

  “Thanks, a fluke?” Alex protested. “Dammit, Javier, I’ve been attacked three times and now kidnapped. Those were no accidents.”

  “And she seems to be a bit excitable as well,” Marika said.

  “Screw you, blondie,” Alex said and grabbed the windbreaker off the chair.

  Javier pushed the mute button. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve changed my mind, Javier. I’m going to my hotel.”

  “First you want to come with me. Now you want to go to your hotel.”

  “Yeah, I changed my mind. A woman’s prerogative.”

  “Are you still there, Agent Castillo?” Marika said.

  He released the mute button. “Yes, we are.”

  “Excellent. Ms. Polonia, I’m sorry we didn’t have lunch. Maybe sometime soon.”

  “Really? That’s it? Marika, I’m done with you and your political passion play as well. I am on vacation! I’m through with you and all this. Now, all of you have a nice evening. Ms. Jurić, good luck on Thursday. I sincerely hope your paranoia and the need for revenge doesn’t bite you in the ass. And you, Special Agent Castillo, still owe me dinner.”

  She stormed out into the Venetian night.

  Alex was far beyond being steamed; she was boiled, fried, and stewed.

  Fewer than two days earlier she had been a carefree tourist, or as carefree as someone with her recent history could be. She thought of her ride across the lagoon from the airport and the cute water taxi driver in the striped shirt. What she wouldn’t give to have a job as totally stress-free as that. Driving a beautiful boat around one of the world’s great cities, meeting tourists as excited as she was to finally be here. Wonderful, fresh air, not Cleveland’s heat and humidity or its counterpoint below-zero cold. Just the clean, sharp breezes off the Adriatic.

  What’s with that guy Ehsan? Calling me some kind of secret agent working with the Feds in some clandestine operation? What’s that?

  She shivered again, from anxiety, not the cold. She thought of a hot bath in her suite’s delightful tub, then a long night’s sleep. She rubbed the raw parts of her wrists, then her temples. Whatever they knocked her out with had left a nagging headache. When was the last time she had slept? The knockout drug had hardly relaxed her; she was tense, like a cat. She remembered the lost purse, phone, and passport. Javier had better come through.

  For a long moment, she stood outside the glass door to the hotel, empty-handed. A small sign read, in both Italian and English, “After 22:00, please use your key card for entry.” She pushed a buzzer below the sign and waited. She pushed again. Nothing. Nox’s jacket and sweater were not nearly enough to fight the damp chill. She was now cold.

  She cupped her hands around her face and pressed them against the glass door. She pushed the buzzer again, then moved back from the door. Reflected in the glass, two men stood on either side of her. Each grabbed one of her arms and pulled her into the center of the passageway.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Duane Turner hissed, spinning Alex around.

  “Good God, really? Not you two,” Alex said, looking at the two DEA agents. She tried to pull Damico’s hand from her arm, but he squeezed tighter.

  “You are tough to find. After our little adventure on that fucking island, we watched your hotel and followed you until you got into a fancy boat with, I’ll be damned, a woman who looks like your goddamn twin.”

  “Just leave me alone. I’ve had a bad day, and I don’t need you creeps jacking me up. I know you tried to intimidate the woman who looks like me. She doesn’t know anything—just like me. Drop all this and go home. And who told you I was here anyway?”

  “The money, all we want is the money. Just tell us. We may even give you a piece if you tell us.”

  “Really, that’s it? Ralph’s money? I’m telling you, I do not know where Ralph hid the money.” Alex looked at Turner and laughed. “Damn! It’s you two who want the money, not your bosses. I should have guessed it when you interviewed me in Cleveland, you jerks want the money.”

  “Duane, she’s bullshitting us. She knows where it is. Maybe she’ll take a quick trip to Switzerland, stop at a bank, make a withdrawal.”

  “Jesus, you’re both totally batshit crazy,” she said, her impatience rising.

  “Crazy as foxes,” Turner said and pushed Alex hard against the alley wall, trapping her, his hand tight against her throat.

  Alex tried to push back, but Turner was significantly heavier. He leaned in hard with his arm. She started to cough.

  Staring into the man’s eyes, all Alex saw was hatred.

  “If I’m dead, you get nothing,” she said, then saw a pistol pressed against the side of Turner’s head.

  “Let go now,” Javier loudly whispered in his ear.

  Turner released his hands, and with the muzzle still near the side of his head, he backed away. Damico, his hands up, stood a few feet away where Javier could watch both men.

  “Good boys. Now, this is not how you talk to a friend of mine. Keep your hands where I can see them.” He looked at Alex. “You okay?”

  “Yes, but I certainly want to—”

  The hotel’s door banged open, startling everyone.

  “Signora Polonia, you need help?” Signor Portero said.

  That was the break Alex needed. She pushed Turner back with her hands. “Look, you shit. Believe me, I don’t know where it is. Do you think I’d be here if I did? But if I ever find it, you will be the last person on earth to know. Got it? Just nod . . . good. If you come at me again, I’ll make sure the Italian auth
orities know all about you and Billie boy. Capisce? And I ask again: How did you know I was here in Venice?”

  Turner just smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “You be more respectful,” Javier said, then pointed the gun at Damico. “Get this idiot out of here, and never come after Ms. Polonia again.”

  “Polonia?” Damico said, confused.

  “Polonia,” Alex said, reinforcing Javier’s order.

  “Ms. Polonia, can I help?” Signor Portero repeated as he walked toward the group. “Are you all right?”

  “Never better, Signor Portero, never better. My friends are just leaving. Aren’t you, Agent Turner?”

  “You will pay for this,” Turner said, rubbing the side of his head and staring at Javier. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you will pay for this.”

  “We’ll give you until Thursday,” Damico added.

  “In your dreams,” Javier said as he slipped his pistol back under his jacket. “Now get the hell out of here.”

  They watched the two men walk down the alley. Turner and Damico never turned around. Alex turned to Signor Portero, hoping he hadn’t heard what’d been said.

  “Who were those men?” Signor Portero asked.

  “They were lost, asking directions. I told them where to go. I’m sorry to bother you, but my handbag was stolen along with my wallet. My passport and identification are gone, as well as my key card. I’m so upset.”

  “Did they take them?” He pointed down the alley, then looked at Javier, a question on his face.

  “No, it was earlier. Signor Portero, this is my friend, Javier Castillo, with the American consulate. He is helping me with my passport.”

  “My pleasure,” Signor Portero said and shook Javier’s hand. “Sadly, this is not the first time it has happened to our guests. There are many Gypsies on the island that wait for just the right moment. It is an embarrassment. I apologize for my city.”

  “It was all my fault. I left my handbag on a chair, and one minute later it was gone. So stupid of me. The consulate has been helpful.”