Choosers of the Slain

by John Ringo

  "He hurt you," Tom said, running his hand carefully over the fresh bruise on her cheek.

  "It is okay," Katya said. "Men have hit me since I was very young. I am used to it. I told you I have friend," she said, waving to Natalya. "We will give you very good deal, but we must talk. And, if you don't mind, I would like to shower at your hotel. Would you scrub my back?"

  * * *

  "Do we have this set up?" Katya asked in Georgian when she was in the shower. The hotel water was at least warm, if not exactly clear. And hot didn't seem to be a setting. But there was some shampoo, thank God, and decent American soap. She scrubbed hard.

  "It's set up," Nadzia answered. "Whenever you're ready to make the switch. It will be in the hotel."

  "Good," Katya said.

  "We're communicating with higher about extracting you and Natalya prior to the main op, less likely to get shot."

  "That would be nice," Katya said dryly. "How long?"

  "No more than four days," Lydia replied.

  "I hope I can string him along that long," Katya said. "It's the best bet I've got for keeping close to the girl."

  "You're doing fine," Nadzia said soothingly. "Just keep on like you have been."

  "Being beaten, raped and having to service men?" Katya replied sarcastically. "You try it."

  "I've got other skills," Nadzia said. "One of which is making sure you have your money to keep your pimp off your back."

  "I'm done here," Katya said.

  "Out."

  "You talk to yourself, too?" Natalya asked dreamily.

  Katya nearly had a heart attack until she realized the girl was never going to know the Keldara accented version of Georgian they'd been speaking. The dialect was practically another language.

  "Sometimes," Katya said, wondering what the girl might have understood. "When I think I'm alone!" Should have made sure.

  "Do you have voices?" Natalya asked in the same dreamy voice. "I have voices. They tell me that the bad man is coming."

  "They are all bad men," Katya said, wondering if the girl had implants like she did or if she was just crazy. Hopefully, just crazy.

  "No, this is the real bad man," Natalya said. "He said that he would come for me. That he would let me wait and fear. But he didn't come back. And they sent me here, instead."

  "Well, he's not here," Katya said. "But I am. And if you don't get out of damned bathroom you're not going to have to fear him because I'm going to kill you!"

  "He seemed like such a nice man," Natalya said, as she closed the door. "So very nice. He had a nice face."

  * * *

  "Bingo," Vanner said as he replayed that portion of the tape. Of course, that also meant that he had to look at Katya's tits from an angle he'd never seen them from before. But he managed to keep his mind on work. "She saw the face of the guy who was impersonating Grantham."

  "And he said he'd be back," Nadzia continued. "To kill her, later. But the Albanians had shipped her, already."

  "So did he know that there was full audio/video in Rozaje?" Vanner mused. "Who did know, at that time?"

  "The British government," Nadzia pointed out. "Maybe the American government as well?"

  "Yeah, but who in the American government?" Vanner asked rhetorically. He turned to the satellite link and started typing. "Want to bet that Senator Traskel is on the list?"

  "Who's going to do the plant?" Nadzia asked. "Two of the girls are out planting vids, I'm on deck and Vanda is sleeping."

  "I've got an idea," Vanner said, smiling.

  * * *

  "Oh, this is very good," Mikhail groaned as Tanya humped him from on top.

  "You are very good," Tanya replied, panting. "I think ... toooo gooo ..." She paused and gasped as there was a knock on the door. And then squealed as she was suddenly thrown halfway across the bed and Mikhail was on his feet with a pistol clutched in a two handed grip.

  "What are you ..." she asked, half in a whisper.

  "Get down and be quiet," Mikhail replied, cat-footing to the door, apparently ignoring that he was entirely naked. "Who is it?"

  "Vanner. Open up."

  Mikhail uncocked the gun and looked around wildly, then snatched up a towel before opening the door.

  "Smells like you haven't been getting much sleep," Vanner said in Russian as he walked in the room. "Where's the girl?"

  "Here?" Tanya said, popping up over the far side of the bed holding her sheath dress in front of her.

  "Get some clothes on," Vanner said and looked Mikhail up and down. "And you, Mikhail. But take the condom off first."

  * * *

  "We will both be very good to you," Katya said as she walked back into the room with a towel wrapped around her hair and torso. The latter barely covered her pubic hair and was pulled down low on her breasts so she had his full and undivided attention. "But there are some things that we have to do for that deal."

  "Okay," Tom said, breathlessly. Natalya hadn't even waited for a suggestion and was fellating him rigorously. "Whatever you two want ..."

  "I have found man that will give me good deal on travellers' checks," Katya said. "I will cash them. Just once every day, eight hundred euros. And we must spend time at the club."

  "I don't ..." Tom started to say and then winced.

  "We don't go to girls' rooms," Katya said, quickly. "There are nice rooms, only ten euros to use. And if you find other girls you like, you go with them, too. But you must buy us some drinks so Boris makes money or he will get angry." She brushed her cheek, lightly, and shook her head. "He was very angry that I come back so late last night. He think I run. If you want both of us, must keep him happy."

  "Okay, okay," Tom said, groaning. "Whatever you want ..."

  "Move over, stupid one," Katya said in Russian, kneeling down in front of the neurosurgeon. "You don't know how to really give a man head."

  * * *

  "So you're Tanya," Vanner said when both of them had gotten dressed. She was a fairly pretty brunette, he had to admit. Not up to Keldara standards, but close.

  "Yes?" she replied, looking over at Mikhail.

  "You've probably figured out by now that Mikhail is not a farm manager here on vacation," Vanner said, smiling. "By the pistol, if nothing else."

  "I ... hadn't thought so before ..."

  "You want out?" Vanner asked. "Out from being a whore that is?"

  "Yes," the girl said fiercely then paused. "But I cannot run. I would be beaten, killed."

  "Not where we'll send you," Vanner said. "The Albanians won't be able to touch you. But to get out, really out, you need to help us."

  "What are you doing?" Tanya asked nervously.

  "You don't have to know," Vanner said. "All you have to do is what we tell you, when we tell you, exactly. And you don't talk about it. Not even to your girlfriends. If you do, you're going to get Mikhail killed, and yourself. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," the girl answered.

  "Okay," Vanner said, pulling out a metal packet and tossing it to her. "Put that in your purse. You're going to plant it for us."

  * * *

  "Now," Katya said when the doctor was laid out flat on the bed and Natalya was using up the hot water. "The money changer I found is near the hotel. I will go to him once per day, as I said. But we must go to the club as well. And I must sleep there late at night, so that they know all their girls are still in town. So, we must either come back here, later, to get the money changed or I change it now."

  "You're just going to run, aren't you?" Tom said, sighing in regret. "Take the money and run ..." he sang.

  "No, Tom," Katya said, seriously. "Please, look at me. I will not run." That's right, look right into these innocent blue eyes you sucker.

  "Okay, okay," Tom said, pulling out his money pouch and taking out the travellers' checks. "How much?"

  "Eight hundred, please," Katya said, putting her hand on his arm and leaning into him. "I promise. I am only gone ..."

  "Ten minutes," Vanner whisper
ed. "Max."

  "Ten minutes," Katya continued, stepping over his "max." "And Natalya stays here, yes? When she gets out of shower, she give you good time."

  "Not as good as you, Katya," Tom said, handing over the endorsed travellers' checks. "Nobody is as good as you."

  "I be back very soon," Katya said, standing up. "I do whatever you want. I play little girl, yes?" she asked, pulling her hair into ponytails.

  "Do you have a schoolgirl outfit?" Tom asked, breathing hard.

  "No," Katya said, pouting. "I not even have hair ribbons. Is all I have, what you see," she added, waving at her body.

  "I could ..."

  "If you want send me shop," Katya said, smiling winningly, "I buy whatever you want. I be whoever you want. Any name you want, any girl you want. You do whatever you want."

  "Can you ... resist a little?" Tom asked.

  "I be whatever you want," Katya said, slipping to the door. "Ten minutes."

  * * *

  "In ten minutes, with this much money, I could be on my way to Greece," Katya said as she strode down the hall. "This is the time for me to cut and run, normally. Where am I going?"

  "Third floor," Vanner answered. "West stairwell."

  She rode the elevator down to the third floor and stepped aside for another whore who wordlessly boarded the elevator as she got off. Then she headed for the stairwell.

  "Fire hose compartment on your right," Vanner said as she stepped into the stairwell. "Container under it."

  She pulled the plastic container out and had a moment's trouble opening it. But when she did, a thick envelope fell out.

  "Put the travellers' checks back in," Vanner said. "You can't hold onto them with Boris searching your dress every time you go back."

  "You're getting off on this, aren't you?" Katya asked, slipping the checks into the box and replacing it.

  "Only when you're looking in a mirror, honey," the former Marine said. "Seriously, you're doing great."

  "Compliments get you nowhere," Katya said, stepping back into the hallway. "But the Kildar had better come through with the money or he's going to find out how badly I can scratch these days."

  * * *

  "Are we going to be okay?" Tanya asked when she got back to the room.

  "We'll be fine," Mikhail promised. "As long as you don't talk about anything you do or are asked. Okay?"

  "Yes," the girl answered.

  "I'd like to go back to what we were doing," he added. "But we'll have to wait until later. How long have you been in Club Aldaris?"

  "Three months," Tanya said. "Why?"

  "Have you spent much time in the club?" Mikhail asked, pulling out some sheets of paper.

  "Yes," she replied. "All the girls spend time working in club. Why?"

  "Because I need to ask you some questions about it," Mikhail said, unrolling the sheets and pointing to a spot on the floorplan. "What is this room used for?"

  * * *

  "There, you see?" Katya asked when she came back in the room.

  Tom was sitting on the bed, looking at Natalya, who was crouched in the corner, rocking.

  "Is she okay?" Tom asked, nervously. "She came out of the shower and seemed just fine. Then she screamed and she's been over there ever since."

  "Bad man," Natalya was muttering, appearing to draw on her leg with her finger. "Bad man's going to come ..."

  "Some girls, they don't do well here," Katya said, carefully. "I talk to her, I get her calm down. She still be very good to you."

  "I like her," Tom said, his face twisted. "She seems so ... fragile. So do you, but not like her. I wish I could take both of you away from here."

  "It cannot happen," Katya said, sighing and approaching the rocking girl. "Natalya?"

  "Bad man is coming," the girl was singing to herself. "Coming back for you ..."

  "Natalya!" Katya said, sharply. "There's no bad man, here. Is he the bad man?" she added, darting a glance at "Tom."

  "No, not here," Natalya said, still drawing on her leg.

  "Natalya, go suck on Tom," Katya ordered.

  The girl quickly scurried across the bed and began opening the doctor's fly.

  "She was worried she hadn't been good enough for you," Katya said, letting out a sigh of relief that sounded very real because it was. "That was all. She let it worry her too much. If you don't do well enough for the pimps, well, they beat you and other things."

  "Oh," Tom said, shaking his head as the hooker began fellating him. "I don't think I can ... you know, right now."

  "Maybe we get some schoolgirl outfits?" Katya asked. "Some makeup? Am told can look very much like Britney Spears.... You want rape Britney?"

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  "Kildar," Anastasia said, looking in the door. "Father Kulcyanov wishes to see you."

  "Send him in," Mike said, trying not to sigh and clearing the screen on his computer. The operation had turned out to be almost nightmarishly complex and making sure all the strands were in place had become a day-by-day struggle. The last thing he needed was to deal with the often long-winded Father Kulcyanov.

  It had ended up making more sense to move in stages. The freighter didn't need much in the way of modification for the mission so, since the one they'd hired had been in the western Med when the deal was made, it had headed directly for Albanian waters.

  The helicopter company, Russkiya Heavy Lift, had often operated in and around Macedonia and Albania, supplying implementation forces and humanitarian operations. With a few words in the right ears, getting permission for the helicopters to pick up an "oil rig relief team" hadn't been hard.

  The teams were, thus, to be flown into Hellenica airport, board busses and drive to the Greek coast, then be picked up by the choppers and flown out to the freighter.

  The biggest hassle had been getting the equipment to them. This had required the services of another freighter and a mid-ocean transfer managed by Chief Adams.

  Pulling it all together had been a constant struggle with logistics while maintaining security. Vanner had ended up going to Spain to arrange the freighter, Chief Adams had put more pages into his passport flying to Turkey and Greece to ensure the arms made it through, and even Nielson had had to fly to Germany for an updated intel brief. Carlson-Smith had smoothed the way in Greece and found a rather respectable looking fellow who knew an enormous amount about the safe industry. He had turned out to be unwilling to actually put his life in jeopardy, but he had determined the actual safe that the Albanians had installed, its location, and carefully drilled some of the Keldara women in the opening method.

  And if it turned out to be the wrong safe, Mike was planning on using the chief's method and the hell with the contents.

  Mike admitted that without the chief and Nielson, not to mention Carlson-Smith, he would have been lost. Hell, even Daria had been doing dog work keeping up with all the paperwork. She had a better ground-level feel for what was where at any time than the rest of them.

  This level of organization and support was so far beyond his previous training he half the time had no clue what people were talking about in the, frequent, meetings. But he doggedly asked questions until he understood, came up with a series of checkpoints and times for people to make and then ensured they did. And Daria kept up with those without batting an eye.

  Russell had turned out to be a keeper. The big former Ranger had apparently soaked up everything the U.S. Army had to tell about airmobile operations and had drilled the Keldara mercilessly. In less than a week he had every one of the teams fully trained on everything from fast-rope work to sling-lift. They wouldn't need the latter as far as Mike could tell, but it was nice that they were trained.

  If things slowed down for a while he might just get a plane and start training them on parachute work. What the hell.

  "Kildar, it is good to see you," Father Kulcyanov said, entering the office at a dignified pace.

  "And you, Father Kulcyanov," Mike said, pulling a chair around to the coffee t
able in the office. "How are the crops?"

  "They are well, Kildar," the elder replied as Anastasia directed one of the harem girls to lay out tea. "It is difficult with the young men all engaged in preparing for the mission, but we persevere. This mission is important to the Keldara and to you and we are your followers."

  "And the Family is well?" Mike asked picking up one of the teacups and taking a sip.

  "The Family is well," Father Kulcyanov said, sipping at the tea and nodding. "Well. But to support you and yours through the generations, we must increase, Kildar."

  "I hope that all is well with the women?" Mike asked, confused.

  "All is well," Father Kulcyanov said, nodding sagely. "Women are a trial, but we must have them to support the home, yes?" He nodded at the girl who was still standing by in case the Kildar needed anything.

  "And support the militia," Mike pointed out. "The girls on the mission were invaluable. The Keldara are amazing people."

  "But to have more Keldara," Father Kulcyanov said, "we must have marriages, Kildar."

  "Oh," Mike said, shaking his head. "This is the Kardane thing, isn't it? Thank you, Lida, that will be all," Mike added, gesturing with his chin for the girl to leave the room.

  "The wedding is in only four weeks, Kildar," Father Kulcyanov said, regally. "You will be gone for two of those, at least ..."

  "And it's not a good idea to have the ceremony on the day before the wedding, huh?" Mike said. "Father, we are very busy—"

  "We have secured the horses you requested," Father Kulcyanov said, ignoring the argument. "All is prepared, Kildar. When can you perform the Rite of Kardane?"

  "Given what we're working with, here, the whole ritual makes me uncomfortable," Mike admitted. "But I think I can still squeeze it in. Hang on."

  He walked to the phone and hit the speakerphone.

  "Nielson?"

  "Here, Kildar," the colonel said. "I'm up to my eyeballs, though ..."

  "When is a good day to close down the caravanserai for a whole night?" Mike asked. "Don't say 'never.' "

  "After the mission?" Nielson asked. "I mean, we move in four days!"