Chapter 8
Arriving at a port after a lengthy time at sea is always an event, a right of passage, something to remember when the days grow short. The Midnight Falcon had not quite reached that hallowed status but instead had slowed in the shelter of a small cove maybe a kilometre from Dubrovnik's old harbour entrance. Valentina slackened the sails and turned about. The sea was breaking as brilliant white surf on the far shoreline; in the distance was a speck, little more than a smudge, a trick of the light. Then above the urgent call of the gulls came the sound, a whining engine on full power. Drawing closer to them; their arrival had been anticipated. Within minutes the jet ski came into view with its engine howling as the craft lifted from the water at each wave crest, bouncing and crashing across the swell. It was approaching in a wide arc at speed. Without stopping, or noticeably slowing, a small floating package was jettisoned from the speeding craft which rapidly turned away from the Falcon and headed back along the coastline. The briefest of encounters, unnoticed by any watcher, the craft was now making a rapid separation from the Falcon, there had been no meeting, no exchange of words.
Valentina, slipped over the side. The water caught her breath with its sudden chill as she sank into its salty embrace but it was not the coldness of the water that troubled Valentina. The sea still held a trace of the remembered warmth of summer, the tourists were still swarming the streets of the old town and the beaches still full of sun worshippers and Adriatic toe dippers. Valentina swam the twenty metres in effortless strokes as if she had been born in the ocean. Colby watched her slender shape as she quickly retrieved the small fluro orange package like a mermaid recovering some misplaced pearls. The package could have been a piece of forgotten luggage, an illegal cash payment for some work of corruption, maybe a drugs drop to add an illicit frisson to a holiday break. Colby helped her back aboard, lifting her as if she had no weight and wrapped a towel across her bikinied shoulders. She pulled back from his arms as if declaring that the days of intimacy were now over.
"The papers... " Valentina said as she shook the salt water, in cascading diamonds, from her hair. Within minutes the Falcon was making way again. The brief intermission was unobserved. Valentina called Natasha over to her. She stroked her fingers across the girl's cheek. "Natasha you will be travelling as Camille Linden, Colby's daughter. The story, if anyone should ask is that you live in France with your French mother. Colby and your mother are divorced and your father is taking you on a touring holiday. Does that make sense?"
"Of course it makes no sense... You are asking me if I'm willing to play your stupid game, yet you know that I have no choice."
Valentina could find no reply for the child.
"I'll be travelling under my own name?" Colby asked.
"Yes... they think the closer we can stick to the truth the better." He shrugged thinking that a false name for him might prove an advantage... It was out of his control in any case. "There's also this," she said as she handed him a sheet of paper. It's a simple code, if they need to contact you in writing the message will be coded. Just substitute the letters according to this. Don't lose it Colby." Colby looked at her as if she thought him a simpleton. "Sorry..." she added "it's just my nervous tension."
They crossed by the Old City harbour, the medieval battlements guarding the entrance looked as they had centuries ago, even the missile scars from the recent war had been repaired. At the harbour master's office, overwhelmed with the seasonal tourist craft, a cursory glance at their papers was found to be sufficient. These English tourists were fellow Europeans... It was the Arabs you had to watch these days.
To meet their contact, they had to make their way to the steps of the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. He and Natasha each carrying all their possessions in small shoulder packs closely followed Valentina. It was not an arduous walk in the late afternoon. The small group of three, looking for all the world, like a family on holiday strolled the cobbled streets pausing to window-shop and admire the architecture. Until now Colby had been Valentina's passenger but now he felt the pull of the reins of responsibility against his hands. His eyes darted, saw everything, reacted to nothing. He was at work now, suddenly ignited by re-acquaintance with a set of skills that he had thought might be forgotten.
They rose a flight of steep stone steps and went into one of the endless cafés. Little different from any other eatery in Europe they filled up on fresh seafood pasta and slices of sweet apple strudla spiced with cinnamon and washed down with strong coffee.
Colby was now fully operational as body guard, close protection, it felt strange to be back in harness. Strange but good. The main attributes for such an officer is not to confront attackers, not even to 'take a bullet' for the client, though that was far from an unknown occurrence, an accepted last resort. The skill of close protection was to ensure that the client was never placed in a compromising situation in the first place. Protection of any sort revolves around spatial awareness, observation, and being one step ahead of the potential threat at all times. An ability to anticipate the future an undeniable asset. In that light, escaping an attack, whether successful or not was seen as a failure of duty. It was a while, probably too long, since Colby had been active in the field. He had not forgotten his training but his reflexes were not as honed as they once were. Despite welcoming the return to active duty, he was on edge, eyes scanning for anything that did not sit right with his sixth sense.
He had seen the two men enter the café shortly after them. They sat at a table behind Colby and he swapped seats with Valentina in order to more easily assess them. He had always been able to tune in pretty well to things that did not quite sit right but, now that he had taken the time to observe them, the two men, laughing, speaking German with exaggerated gesticulation, showed no sign of keeping a low profile. They were no threat. Colby relaxed, no alarm bells were ringing. Those who posed the real threat were the ones you did not see. The young girl with an Uzi 9 mm in her satchel, the grandmother with a gentle maternal smile and a poisoned umbrella spike in her hand, something unseen in the shadows... Especially the shadows. When they left the café there was no sign of followers tracing their path.
Seated on the steps of the Cathedral disguised among a huddle of tourists they waited. The appointment was for five, at five fifteen Valentina was starting to get edgy but Colby had already seen the man standing in the shadows watching, taking his time with the casual larceny of an 'A' grade pickpocket. When he finally appeared satisfied that it was safe he walked closer and sat next to them. He lit a cigarette and spoke as if to himself:
"You want motorbike maybe?" He said. "You and the girl want to make little trip?"
"What's your name?" Valentina asked.
"I was to tell you Dmitri..." He said still not looking directly at them. He blew a curl of smoke up into the evening sky.
"OK Dmitri... You have some things for us?"
"Sure... You are from Sachovia?... Nice place I think."
Colby stood up, his tall shadow crossing the man's eyes. "That is not an appropriate question Dmitri, if you need to ask that, maybe you are not the man we are expecting."
"No no for sure. I Just askin' man, no cause for discomposure." He tried to stand but Colby eased down on his shoulders. "This is correct word, discomposure?" Dmitri said suddenly unsure of his impeccable English.
"It will do..." Colby said "where's the bike?"
"A short walk... I take you now."
"You go ahead we'll follow at a distance." Colby said as he looked left and right then up to the distant buildings, the dark windows and balconies that could easily hide a sniper.
Dmitri shrugged "OK, I go this way." He moved like a cat across the marbled square to a narrow alleyway.
Colby watched him slide away then turned to Valentina. "He seems harmless..."
"I agree, not the sharpest knife in the drawer maybe but he fits the description I was given."
"You take Natasha I'll bring up the rear." Colby said as he shifted his su
nglasses up onto his forehead as the shadows started to stretch long and dark towards evening.
Dmitri seemed eager to be on his way, fidgeting and nervous he lit his third cigarette since Colby had first spotted him. He handed over the bike keys, two helmets and a small package containing maps, money and a credit card – American express. On the BMW's carrier was a pack containing a small tent, sleeping bags and a container of water. Strapped to the tank was a small bag for money, travel documents and maps. Any thing else they might need would have to be bought en-route.
"I go now..."
"OK Dmitri... Thank you." Valentina said.
Dmitri dipped his head in a slight bow, an easy five hundred Euros for him, and then he quickly moved away dissolving into the darkening shadows.
The bike was a surprise being a magisterial BMW R 1200 GS. A rugged machine capable of handling indifferent terrain but still powerful enough if you needed to outrun a chaser. That was the last thing Colby wanted however. His plan was to cross the country like the shadow of a cloud, invisible and silent.
Valentina had unfurled the map. A blue pencil line traced out the route they were expected to take. "You'll need to take the Jadranska Cesta highway, I suggest you make some distance as soon as possible. You've got your Satphone? GPS device? Spare batteries?"
"I'm not a novice at this Valentina..."
"No sorry... Do you need a gun?" She asked.
"No absolutely not." Colby said. "Do you have one?"
"I know you dislike guns Colby and I respect that but for me it's part of the territory. Of course I have a gun."
"Then keep it safe Valentina, I do not intend getting into any armed warfare."
"OK... So lets have a look at the map they supplied."
Colby crouched down and looked across Valentina's shoulder at the map.
"What?"
"Are these masters of yours complete amateurs?" Colby said. "You never commit details like your route to paper."
Valentina shrugged. "That's why we employed you I suppose. You won't be following their pencil line will you?"
"No."
"As long as you arrive at Trieste in three days."
"That was my plan Valentina. I think we'll ride until about ten tonight and then find a place to pitch the tent out of sight."
She nodded, and imagined them alone in the darkness, without her and she felt a pain in her chest.
"Colby you must remember to send your position coordinates via the satphone ever day."
"I won't forget Valentina but it seems an unnecessary risk to keep effectively revealing our position."
"It's what the government wants Colby, they've invested a lot of money in this enterprise. In any case the contact that's been set up is as secure as possible."
This was the moment that Valentina had been dreading. The time when she would have to leave them. It was a duty born in the love of her brother and had set her course long ago. It was too late to turn back now even though every fibre of her being screamed at her to take Colby and Natasha and run for the hills.
"What are you going to do now Valentina?" Colby asked stretching out the time before she would vanish. He felt the pain of parting acutely, as sharply as Valentina was trying to deny it. But for Colby there was hope, hope that they would meet again when this nonsense was all over. Valentina had no such hope left.
"I'll sleep on the Falcon tonight" she said "and then sail back to Ikinos. You'll be at Trieste before I'm back on the Island. Someone will be in touch via your satellite phone to give you more details."
"Can I contact you?"
"No, I don't think that would be wise."
"I thought we might keep in touch." He said.
Valentina said nothing. Natasha whose eyes were already brimmed with tears leapt at her wrapping her arms round the woman. "I wish..." She said unable to find any more words.
"I know darling... we've discussed this. You have to forget me now."
"I love you Valentina... I know you love me."
Valentina untwined herself from the girl's arms. Fighting back her own tears, she hardened herself and spoke the words that tore at her heart.
"No... Don't think that Natasha. I took care of you because it was my duty; nothing more. Forget me now just as I will forget you the minute you disappear from my view."
Natasha stood back, stunned by this ultimate rejection, a rejection she could not understand.
"Goodbye Colby." Valentina said, it was nice to meet up again. Then she turned away, her duty done. The game would play out now without any further involvement on her part. She marched away heading towards the City's cobbled streets, baroque buildings and the endless shimmer of the Adriatic. Valentina should have been inspired by a walk along the ancient city walls that have protected this civilised, sophisticated republic for centuries; she was not. All she saw in the shadows was the hovering ghost of betrayal.
"Valentina..." Colby called across the still air but she did not turn back, not until she was out of their sight. Then in the fading light she leaned against a stone wall and looked into an abyss of her own making and sobbed.
Colby straddled the bike. "Get on." He said as gently as he could. Natasha stood unmoving, eyes still filled to the brim.
"I want to go back with Valentina."
"What?... Please don't fight me Natasha... It's too late to turn back now." As he watched the girl, expecting her compliance, she suddenly turned and ran following the path that she had seen Valentina take.
It took him fifty metres to catch up with her, taking her arm he pulled Natasha towards his chest and held her tight.
"I thought you were resigned to this Natasha... This is not what I want. It's what your country wants."
"It's not my country."
"Then it's what Valentina wants... Do you trust her to want the right thing for you?"
Colby felt her straining sinews soften against the inevitable. A queen she might be but she had no power, no more self determination than a trafficked slave. She had struggled with loneliness since her parents had died but now she felt completely, utterly, helplessly alone and without hope.
They crossed the tall suspension towers of the Lozica bridge as they left Dubrovnik behind. Colby opened the throttle of the BMW and felt the surge of power as the highway rolled by under their feet. Natasha, still an unwilling passenger, balanced on the rear of the bike. Leaping off to her death at some convenient point, was an option she held in reserve. Colby had told her to wrap her arms round his waist for safety but she had stubbornly refused. Colby shrugged, the bike was safe and he would be breaking no speed records. They would take the E65 and D8 to Split the second largest city in Croatia; three hours he estimated of gentle cruising in the slow lane. They would have to cross the 9 kilometre Neum corridor that belonged to Bosnia-Herzegovinia and bizarrely cut the Croatian coastline into two. There is effectively no border control for foreigners who are transiting without stopping using the green track through the corridor and the 'father and daughter' passed through unnoticed and with only minimal delay.
They rode on as darkness descended; the modern highway could almost have been anywhere in Europe. It was an easy ride but took most of the allotted three hours before they reached the turn off to Spilt. The blue pencil route had already left the coast and headed inland. No one would know where they were; unless they had been followed. Colby had seen no sign of that, and if he had been followed he would have known.
Colby had taken a brief holiday break in Split some years before and was reasonably familiar with the tourist resort. Split managed to balance comfortably between modern tourist driven exuberance and old Dalmatian tradition. A mix of Roman ruins and modern night life. A city of tourist shops and beaches. The BMW needed refuelling so Colby pulled into the Lukoil gas station for petrol. The stop offered an opportunity for him to attempt a frontal assault on the wall of silence that Natasha had erected around herself.
"Do you want to look round Split?" He said as if the long ride
might have melted the frost between them. Natasha shrugged at the suggestion, making no eye contact but busying herself stretching away the stiffness of the long ride. "We could get something to eat." Colby said.
Another shrug.
Colby remembered the Old Town with fondness. He remembered the Riva Promenade that sat at the heart of Split's entertainment scene. The day and night, restaurants and cafés. The beautiful people sipping coffee, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the sights and culinary flavours of the Dalmatian city. It would still be bustling at this hour and he knew Natasha would love to see it whether she was in a mood to admit it or not. Once the bike was brimmed he invited Natasha to climb on behind him. This time she did as he asked without comment, no attempt at escape. Whether she liked it or not she was now tied to Colby but the link was a fragile one born of necessity not inclination. Stubbornly she would not hold onto him even as the bike leaned hard through the twisting old labyrinthine streets.
Colby parked down close to the Riva seafront and they walked for a while under the waving palms, and tourist illuminations. The air was filled with the tantalising smells of cooking. Finding a restaurant with tables in the open they ate among the bustling tourists, anonymously invisible, just part of the scene. At not yet nine it was still early for the night-life to be in full swing but they would not be waiting for that. Natasha made it very clear that she was unimpressed with Split but she did manage to eat two ice-cream sundaes after her steak-frites. Colby felt a softening of her sullen disapproval; she even spoke to him.
"Feeling better after that?" He asked as he watched her delicately wiping her mouth.
"I need the toilet." She said. Progress indeed Colby thought.
At the public toilets an old Peugeot 504 rattled down the road too far away for Colby to take notice of its creaking progress. Not until, on an ill timed down-change, the car backfired with the sound of a large calibre unsilenced rifle. Instinctively Colby grabbed Natasha's arm, drew her close and dropped them both to the ground under the cover of a low wall. Natasha screamed the terrified scream of a child younger than her years, the car backfired again and Colby finally recognised the sound for what it was.
"Sorry, sorry." He said to the trembling girl. "I thought..." His voice trailing off into silence as the Peugeot's headlights pierced the darkness and passed by them in chugging indifference.
"Is this to be my life from now on? I'll never feel safe again." Natasha said. Her words were lost to the darkness as Colby was for an instant back in the harsh sunlight of Riyadh... The boy was called Laurence he suddenly remembered, named in deference to his English mother's wishes. He had found the boy huddled in a straw-strewn cell, still dressed in his pyjamas, eyes wide and cheeks stained with grubby tears. Sunlight from a high barred window flashed from his pleading dark eyes. Have you come to save me? A terrified hope escaped from the boy's trembling lips. Yes you're safe now. He took the boy in his arms lifted him from his corner. I prayed for you to come the boy whispered hardly daring to believe that he was rescued. Colby ran into the harsh sunlight holding the child tight. They rested for a moment in a dark corner. Your mother's waiting Laurence, be brave just a little longer. The boy nodded, eyes filled with unconditional faith in this man whom God had sent... The vision of the boy's pyjamas red and ripped faded into the blackness of a Split night...
...
They headed inland towards the isolation of Malijkovo; rumbled across rutted country to a spot that overlooked Lake Peruća, a Dam build to feed the Cetina Hydro-power System. As the bike fell silent and the headlight faded into the sombre night, a feeling of intense solitude fell over them. The blackness of the lake was broken only by the occasional shimmer of the moon as it glimpsed out from behind the scurrying cloud. There were no lights to be seen, no people to hear; Colby felt safe for the first time since leaving the Midnight Falcon.
They pitched the small tent and, still dressed in all but their boots, crept into their sleeping bags.
"Good night Natasha." Colby said. "Sleep tight." He heard a mumbled reply; something deliberately indecipherable but it was a response, not the deep painful silence that he might have expected. Colby smiled for an instant before sending their position to the Sachovian Government, a job that took all of fifteen seconds. Despite his reservations about doing this it did give a sense of comfort to know that the good guys, where ever they were, were watching over them. Colby however, wrapped in his absolute trust of Valentina, had no idea that the signal was not being sent to the Sachovian government at all. If he had known the truth it would have given him no comfort at all.
The Midnight Falcon Page 8
