by Lee McGeorge
The car rushed towards him, blinding headlights in his face, his arms raising slowly to shield his eyes from the glare. “Oh, Jesus,” was all Cornel could say.
----- X -----
Cornel had his hand under Ciprian’s arm for moral rather than physical support. Stupid. So stupid. He’d almost gotten the poor kid killed. He dropped Ciprian into his armchair and went for the whisky and first aid kit.
“Do you want a hot drink?” Cornel asked. “Or do you want something stronger.” He handed him the rusty tin of first aid supplies. Ciprian shook his head and held up both hands to indicate neither. Cornel started his computer and poured a drink.
“I’ve got no skin left,” he said looking into the neck of his pullover. “Do you think it will scar?”
“There’s antiseptic cream in the tin… I think?”
Ciprian found a half used tube of cream that looked like a decades-old tube of toothpaste. “I’m calling sick tomorrow,” he said. “Fuck tomorrow. I need a holiday.” He rolled up his pullover and touched some of the cream to his chest then stopped and stared into space. “Cornel... Where do you think they’re going?”
“I don’t know, but we can find out.” He opened the box for the tracker to find a plastic card with activation details. “There’s an app to download for tracking on the phone and a website for computer tracking.” Cornel read the instructions on the card. “I’ve got to send this code to the tracker as a text message.” He entered the numbers into his phone, pressed send... and waited.
“How long should it take?” Ciprian asked.
“It shouldn’t take long, but your guess is as good as…” Beep Beep. Cornel smiled looking at the screen of his phone. “How long was that? Twenty seconds? Thirty?” On the screen it read, Loc 45.693826, 25.448423, Brng 302, Spd 43. “I guess that is latitude and longitude.”
“So how do we see it on a map?”
“Computer,” Cornel said. He opened up the tracking webpage. It seemed straight forward. He had only to fill the boxes with the data from the telephone. He clicked the button to locate and watched as a map appeared with a red triangle in the centre that pointed towards the top left of the screen. “Amazing… That’s them, they’re in Codlea, heading north west at forty three kilometres per hour. Pretty cool, eh?”
Ciprian climbed out of the chair to look at the map. “They’re in Codlea? There’s nothing in Codlea. Why go there in the middle of the night?”
Cornel shrugged. Codlea was one of the satellite districts surrounding Brasov, little more than a village. “Hopefully they’re going home... Keep going west, boys. Albania is waiting for you.”
“Try it again. The tracker, try again and see what it says?”
Cornel resent the message. Thirty seconds later it came back with more data. Loc 45.726340, 25.458122, Brng 0, Spd 50. He typed the new data into the software. The red triangle tilted to point due north and moved the screen to centre itself on the map. The Albanians were off the main road now, away from the motorway, they were on a less travelled road heading due north.
“Wait…” Cornel felt himself tense up and rush towards sobriety. His finger pointed to the tiny village that had just appeared on the screen north of the Albanians. They were heading to Dumbravita.
“You said Popescu is in Dumbravita, right? But... they couldn’t know that… could they?”
“Oh Jesus…” Ciprian said.
They stared at the screen. The little red triangle pointed towards a tiny spec on a map filled with nothing but open land. The Albanians could only be going to Dumbravita.
Cornel leaped from the chair. “Oh shit… Go, now, we’ve got to go.”
Both men ran for the door. Cornel had already dialled 112 on his mobile phone before they made it to the elevator.
----- X -----
“Vonoj,” Miklos said as they approached the smallholdings. Slow down. “And kill the lights.” Loro was driving. He brought the van to walking pace then stopped some distance from the target building.
All four men looked through the window toward the handful of single story cottages.
“We do this slow and careful. Same as last time. Check these cottages for sleeping policemen, then we go in nice and quiet. Maximum care. If we get arrested, don’t make it for anything serious. Remember this place could be full of police so nobody has a gun except me… Agron, stay with the van, you’re driving, turn us around and be ready to move… Masks on, gloves on.”
Ludovik, and Agron pulled on their ski masks and heavy gloves. Miklos didn’t take a mask but he pulled on surgical rubber gloves.
They exited the van into a night that was stunningly quiet. Not a breath of wind, not a barking dog. Perfect quiet. Above them a thousand stars twinkled in a land devoid of streetlights. Behind them, Agron reversed the van to turn it around then killed the engine… and the three men began their walk to Ildico Popescu’s safe house.
----- X -----
Ildico put down her magazine when she heard the baby cry. Ana, the policewoman checked her watch. “Midnight again,” she said. “You can set the clocks by this girl.”
They’d only been in the safe house for a few days and it was painful. The daytime police minder, Maria, was an overweight jobsworth who complained about everything. The evening watch, Ana, was a broody singleton who talked about little other than her failed love life.
Ildico walked through to the bedroom and lifted Alina from the crib to bounce on her hip. Ana watched whilst leaning against the doorjamb, probably hoping for a few minutes to hold or play with Alina.
“I want two children,” Ana whispered once the child had settled and the women returned to the lounge.
Ildico nodded. “You’ve told me.”
“Do you want another?”
“Not anymore, It was my dream to have a boy and a girl, but I expected to have a husband and a different life to what I have now. Life doesn’t go the way you want sometimes.”
“Is it good or bad? Life, I mean; the way things have gone.”
“It has been hard. I never expected to be a single mother. I would say it’s tiring but worth it.”
“You seem to take it so well.”
Ildico gave a soft smile. “I wasn’t always like this. I’ve done a lot of worrying. I worried when I was pregnant. I worried when I was involved in a murder hunt. I worried that I would be poor and couldn’t feed my baby... But, things have a way of working out.”
There was a noise from the kitchen, something light and indescribable, both Ana and Ildico heard it and their heads tilted towards the door to listen. No other sound came; it was nothing.
“When do you think you’ll start a family?” Ildico asked.
Ana shrugged. “I need a man first. I’ve just gotten rid of one, he was no good. But I’m getting worried though, I’m nearly thirty. How long are you supposed to be together before you marry and start a family? I expected to be with a man for three or four years. I worry I won’t find the right man in time. It should have happened by now. If I meet a man now and wait four years to get married then I’ll be thirty five before I give birth? And what if the man I meet is an idiot and we break it off after a few years and I have to start again?” The policewoman dipped her head and purged. “I’m running out of time. I’m jealous of what you have.”
----- X -----
Ciprian spun the wheel too hard and the back end of the car skidded outward. His chest stung as his clothing rubbed against the graze. Cornel was on the telephone, clinging to the handle above the door with his free hand.
“This is Corneliu Latis, I’m a former detective with Brasov Police, I’m with serving police officer Ciprian Cojacaru. We are heading to Dumbravita. We believe a girl in police protection there is in immediate danger from a criminal gang.”
“Do you have a location in Dumbravita?” the control room asked.
“They need the address?”
Ciprian shook his head. “I went once, I know it by sight, but I don’t know the address. Tell them
it’s Brasov Police Safe House. Tell them to despatch someone, it’s a small place, tell them we’ll find them when they get there.”
Cornel relayed the instructions.
“Understood,” the control room replied. “We will despatch a car to Dumbravita, it should be on location in about forty minutes. Call back if you get a more precise location.”
Cornel was shaking his head.
“What is it?” Ciprian asked.
“Forty minutes.”
Ciprian spat his words in disgust. “Fuck em. We’ll be there in fifteen.”
----- X -----
Ildico could easily have fallen asleep in the chair but was holding off until Alina was settled. “I’m having a hot chocolate,” she said stretching her arms above her head. “Would you like me to make one for you?”
Ana lowered the magazine and made an, “ooooh,” sound of joy.
The door began to creep open.
Ana looked.
Ildico looked.
The door opened slowly, then a man with swept back black hair stepped into the room. He was wearing a suit without a tie. Although Ildico’s heart leaped at the intrusion her first thought was he must be a policeman. Then another man entered wearing a black ski mask and the suited man raised a gun.
Ildico raised her hands.
Ana made a sudden move to the side, diving for the belt that was holding her weapon. It was bulky, she’d taken it off and left it on the floor beside her. The masked man rushed in but Ana was too quick and she fell atop her gun as the big man straddled her. They scrambled for the belt. Then came a gunshot and a sudden splattering of blood when the bullet ripped through the shoulder of the masked man. A third man ran into the room, tall and thin, also wearing a mask.
The Suit ignored the commotion to his side and kept his gun trained on Ildico. Ana the policewoman was wrestling two men. They had her pinned, throwing punches, fighting with her. The tall man started smashing his foot into her face as she tried to scream. Her voice was thin. Her neck gripped by the wounded attacker. Her fight diminishing as his fingers crushed her throat.
Ana went still.
Ildico remained frozen in place. Her only thought was to let them kill Ana... so long as they didn’t hurt Alina.
The police woman’s feet kicked for a few seconds then lay in stillness. The masked men eased off and rolled her face down. They took handcuffs from her belt to fasten her hands. She gulped in a gasp of air. Still alive, but barely.
The wounded man stepped away to flank the gunman and stare at Ildico. He was bleeding, the blood seeping into his jacket front and back but the wound didn’t seem to diminish his power, in fact, it barely seemed to register.
The tall man lifted himself away from Ana and moved the armchair onto her back to pin her to the floor. He rested his weight on the chair and looked to Ildico.
Don’t let them hurt Alina.
Don’t let them near the baby.
The gunman spoke. “You,” he said in English, “are Ildico Popescu.”
Ildico felt her stomach prepare to wretch its contents. Her whole digestive system clenched and flexed and there was a sensation like she was about to void her bowels. Her hands, held in surrender, began to shake.
“Your daughter is Alina.”
Ildico tried to respond but couldn’t. Her body shook uncontrollably, her breathing went fast and shallow without her having any way to physically control it. Her head was going light.
The baby.
Jesus Christ have mercy. Keep them here. Don’t let them go to Alina’s room.
“Do you know why we are here?” The gunman asked.
She shook her head in spasms.
“Your daughter… her father is Paul McGovern.”
Ildico died a little at the words. “Yes,” she mumbled.
“Your home was bought for you by Paul McGovern. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And he paid for that home with money he stole from me… So now I am going to kill your baby.”
“No!” Ildico snapped. “She is not here.”
“Not here? Then who is the baby I see next door?” The gunman spoke in a language Ildico didn’t recognise and the bleeding man left the room. A moment later, came the sound of running water from the bathroom. “Do you hear that? The sound of water? It is the bathtub filling. I am going to drown your baby... You will watch.”
“No!” Ildico shrieked.
There was a faint cry. Alina was awake and crying. Ildico felt her heart pound and her head spin. Alina was crying. She was crying for her mother. She was crying for help.
The bleeding man came back into the room carrying the child in one arm. Alina made a squeal. Ildico saw blood on the child’s pink night clothes and before registering it was from the bleeding man screamed out, “Don’t you fucking hurt my baby!” She shrieked it with a shrill, almost animal screech and leapt out of the chair towards her daughter. The force of action was so sudden and surprising that all of the men flinched backwards away from her. It was momentary. A second later she was flat on her back from a punch that threw a bright white flash and a sudden pain that spread through her teeth and skull. She was down but Alina cried out again, fuelling her, powering her back to her feet.
The bathtub was running. Water was running. She could hear it. They would drown her if she didn’t fight.
“You hurt my baby and I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.”
She was up, her arms swinging, her voice screeching. She grabbed the gunman’s weapon unafraid that it pointed at her chest and kicked as hard as she could between his legs, missing the mark but making him jerk his knees together in defence. She moved with the power of a train to grab at his lapel and pressed him back to the wall, almost lifting him off the floor.
She could hear the water running.
Nothing would stop her. Nothing. She reached out to grab Alina and felt her head yank back as her hair was pulled. They forced her to the floor, dropped on top of her, rested a knee in her chest and smashed the butt of the gun into her nose.
“Don’t you fucking hurt my baby!”
Her arms flailed and again superhuman strength managed to push back enough to buy her a sliver of space. She made it to the wall with two men wrestling her. Her arms found the bookcase and she leaned against it for purchase, standing despite the weight on her back. She was thrown and swung to knock her off balance. Her clothing was pulled and she saw her chance; she tipped forward and slipped backwards out of her top to leave the two men holding her empty pullover and her in only a bra as she darted for the child a second time.
Another punch. Harder. Flush on her nose. Another and something broke. Pain spread across her face. A knee was pressed across her throat holding her down. Then she heard Alina squeal in pain, screaming, crying and shrieking as something hurt her.
There was nothing she could do. She was overcome and held down. The gunman was pressed across her chest with his knee under her chin, he was gasping. She had only one hand for free movement and used it to punch him in the balls but didn’t have the range of movement to hurt him. It didn’t stop her trying and she punched repeatedly. Another knee came down, this time from the tall man and it pressed her head to the side. She could see Ana lying handcuffed under an armchair, unconscious, out of the fight. Alina cried but couldn’t be seen. Ildico couldn’t move. She couldn’t move at all and the build-up of stress and energy that had given her the strength to fight two men burst forth as she cried out with impotent rage.
She couldn’t protect her baby.
She wasn’t strong enough to fight three men.
“Ildico… Ildico, listen to me.” A hand slapped across her face. “Listen!”
There was some more talking in a foreign language, then some shuffling and then a camera flash went off. A hand gripped her hair and twisted her head. The camera flash went again.
She was pulled to her feet and her arms locked behind her back. It was the tall thin
man, standing behind her, holding her arms in a lock she couldn’t break. Her eyes opened for a moment to survey the scene. Alina had been put on the armchair atop the unconscious policewoman. There was blood all over her.
The Suit tucked the gun into his belt and removed a folding knife from his pocket. The dull grey blade locked into place with a click.
“Don’t hurt my baby,” Ildico yelped. “Do what you want to me, but don’t hurt my baby.”
The Suit was panting, dishevelled, out of breath from the fight and wearing an expression of rage. He held the knife in his left hand, drew his right hand back and flew in with a ferocious punch that broke her nose.
The pain was nothing.
Ildico kicked out and threw her weight from side to side. She still pulled hard and fought, throwing herself towards Alina. She had to get her. She had to wrap her arms around her and save her.
The Suit punched her again and this time brought the knife to her face. “Stop it!” He screamed. “Stop it or I’ll cut your baby’s throat…”
Ildico stopped. The man’s face was bright red. He was seething with rage, breathing through clenched teeth.
“Where is Paul McGovern?” he yelled.
“I don’t know,” she cried back.
The knife was put under her bra and the clothing cut to release her breasts. She looked down to see blood running across her chest from her face. The suit yanked her hair back and began slicing her forehead with the knife. “Where is Paul McGovern,” he screamed as he cut. “Where is he? Tell me or I’ll gut your fucking child.” She felt pressure on her scalp and a rush of blood across her face. Thick drops fell from her eyebrows ahead of her eyes.
