Choosers of the Slain pos-3

by John Ringo

  “No, no!” Oleg replied, waving his hands. “It does, however, touch on the honor of the Keldara.”

  “Go ahead,” Mike said, furrowing his brow.

  “Before you came, we had problems with the Chechens,” Oleg said, furrowing his own in thought. “They often came wanting us to give up our food, our mules… our women.”

  “And you fought them off at least once,” Mike said. “I heard about that.”

  “But even then…” Oleg said and paused. “I should not be the one saying this, but the elders don’t have the same…”

  “Who was she?” Mike asked softly.

  “My sister,” Oleg said. “Elena. She was twelve.”

  “Oleg, it’s a big damned world out there…” Mike said, then paused himself. “What are you asking?”

  “There is going to be information in Lunari about… much,” Oleg pointed out. “Greznya spoke to me. An Elena, a Georgian girl, was listed on one of the… hard drives you recovered. The one in Romania…”

  “Oleg, she might not be in the same building,” Mike said, sighing. “It’s an astronomical unlikelihood that she will be. And, Oleg, you’ve seen the raw intel. That town is one fortress after another. If we can find and extract Elena, without compromising the mission, we will. And if we can’t extract her, but we can find her, I’ll move heaven and earth to get her back. Is she the only one?”

  “No,” Oleg admitted. “Catrina Mahona. She was taken… four years ago. And there was no record of her. But, Kildar, both of these women, they are…”

  “Dead to the clan,” Mike said, nodding. “I understand. They are soiled, untouchable. I’m talking to a school in Argentina that might take in the girls we’ve recovered, those that don’t have some sort of life to go back to. I may send them some of the girls in the harem, as well. Would that do?”

  “Kildar…” Oleg replied, his face working.

  “Concentrate on the mission, Oleg,” Mike said, his own face hard. “You’ve communicated your concerns to me. Let me handle it from here. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

  * * *

  “You’re not usually up this late, David,” Senator Traskel said as he was led into the sitting room. The President was leaning back on the couch, his eyes closed, and pinching the bridge of his nose, while his chief of staff poured coffee.

  “There were just too many things going on today to break off early,” the president said, yawning. “And another long one tomorrow unless I’m much mistaken. What can I do for you, John?”

  “I picked up a rumor that we have an operation going on in Albania,” Senator Traskel said, sitting down and accepting the proffered coffee cup. “I hope that it’s nothing that should have been discussed with my committee beforehand. Albania is a sovereign country, with a growing reputation in the UN…”

  “Albania?” the President said, looking over at the chief of staff, quizzically. “You’re talking about a special operations black operation? As far as I know, no American military operation is being planned for Albania. I can’t even imagine why we’d do one. I mean, it’s a land that exports nothing but drugs and beaten-up prostitutes, which is good and sufficient reason for democratization. But it doesn’t actively threaten the U.S., so we’ve more or less left it alone except for encouraging improvement. Through the UN, as a matter of fact.”

  “You’re sure about that?” the senator asked. “I heard a fairly credible rumor that a company of American Rangers was going to be flying into a town in Albania to rescue some hostages. I didn’t even know there were any hostages in Albania. If there were, I think the American people would be interested, don’t you? I know that many things must be kept ‘black,’ as the military likes to put it. But some things need the sun shone upon them, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure they do,” the President said, smiling. “But as I said, there is no American military operation going on in Albania. No, wait,” the President said as the senator started to protest. “I might be wrong. There are operations going on all over the world. It is possible that there is a group of terrorists there we’re going after. Albania is primarily Muslim, after all. Let me check.”

  The President leaned over and picked up the phone.

  “Grace? Could you call OSOL and ask them if we have an operation going on in Albania? Something about a company of Rangers? If so, I want to know, right away, what the nature and purpose of the mission is. Thank you.” He turned back to the senator and shrugged. “As you know, OSOL has its finger on the pulse of every operation, black or white, that is done under any special operations umbrella including the blackest DIA operations. If there’s anything going on, they’ll know it. In the meantime, what do you think of the Astros this year?”

  * * *

  “Your information was wrong,” Traskel snarled into the phone.

  “I don’t think so,” the man on the other end said. “A company of Rangers was sent to Eastern Europe. That’s a fact. And another source said that there was a mission planned for Lunari using a company-sized force. There are people that don’t agree with all these military adventures of this idiot in the White House. We talk. You know that.”

  “They’re looking for the girl,” the senator said, his face working. “And she’s in Lunari. Get over there. You should have cleaned this up the first time. Clean it up now.”

  “Do you have any idea how many women are in Lunari?” the voice choked out.

  “They’re going to find her, so can you. And then finish it. No little games, you understand me. Finish her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Katya,” a female voice whispered in her head. “This is Nadzia, Team Swan. Good morning.”

  “Hmmm…” Katya replied as she brushed her teeth again. She’d traded a dollar she’d hidden in one of her pouches for some toothpaste and Lord did she need it. It was almost lunch time. Time to go look up “Tom” again. She had to look halfway decent. A heroine in a movie that’s been roughed up but still looks like a model… She ran her fingers through her hair and tossed it around to get just the right effect. If she only had some cosmetics, she could get it perfect.

  “Additional mission. There are some Keldara girls that might be in the town. We have visuals of them. If we see one, through you, we’ll redirect. Understand?”

  “Hmmm…” Katya said, rolling her eyes. Great. Fucking Holier-Than-Thou Keldara. Nobody ever came for her when she needed it.

  “You need to get more of a layout on the club. Use your American if you can.”

  “HMMMM…” Teach me to suck eggs, stupid Keldara bitch!

  “I can see you’re not a morning person.”

  Katya sighed angrily and finished brushing, then headed back down to the street. Supposedly, there was something resembling breakfast around here, but “Tom” had had some food in his room and that was enough to keep her going through the very short night.

  But, first, she wanted to take a look around. Most of the girls were still just getting ready for the day, the lazy whores. Getting out early, looking fresh, would usually pick you up at least two or three tricks. All it took was getting out of bed. If she ran this place, there’d be a reveille.

  But the fact was that there wasn’t. So the girls were still getting up and she could see the faces.

  It was all the way on the sixth floor that she found her. The girl was just finishing working on her hair using a bit of mirror on the wall. She was pretty sure it was the same girl, but she continued to stare, then hummed and finally sighed.

  “Sorry, you’re calling us aren’t you?” a female voice said. “Yes, that appears to be the target. Find out what room she uses. Move into it if you think it will work.”

  She’d hatched a plan in an instant, but she wasn’t sure how to tell the stupid Keldara. There was very little in the way of privacy. Later for that.

  “Hello,” she said, walking over to the girl.

  Natalya looked at her fearfully, then around for support.

  “I’m not
going to put on you,” Katya said, looking her up and down. The girl was young and fairly good looking. She’d look better with some cosmetics, no question. Could she swing this? “I have found a rich American. He wants two girls, even though he can barely get it up with one. And he likes young ones. But not to hit on, he is nice. You are pretty good. You want in?”

  “Will I make as much as usual?” Natalya asked in a resigned tone.

  “If you work with me, you will,” Katya said, shaking her head. “More and with less work. You need to learn to be a good whore, though. He thinks I’m fourteen and barely touched. I’m not going to take him some dragged out whore. If you can’t act, the deal is off. You speak English?”

  “No,” the girl said, still looking at her fearfully.

  “Good,” Katya said, the plan blooming. “Let me handle the talking, then. And don’t tell anyone what the arrangement is. You’ll get seven hundred euros a day. He uses traveller’s checks. I know a man who will give me a special deal on them, so I’ll cash them, alone.”

  “Ah, got it,” the Keldara listener said. “We’ll supplement. I’ll get Vanner and tell him.”

  “We’ll go down, you stay by the doors. I’ll find him and we’ll get together with him and tell him the deal. Yes?”

  “Yes,” Natalya said, her eyes wide. “But why are you being nice to me?”

  “Who says I’m being nice?” Katya said, laughing evilly. “I’m going to let you do most of the fucking and I’ll take most of the money. And because you’re such a little mouse you won’t try to double-cross me, will you?” She leaned forward and ran her sharpened nails down the girl’s neck, lightly. “Will you?”

  * * *

  “You know,” Vanner said, leaning back at the head of the bed and monitoring the grainy video take on his laptop. “If we were really just after the girl, we could pull her out like this. No muss, no fuss.”

  “Who would have thought they’d have her out walking the streets?” Nadzia asked, shaking her head. “That means something, but I’m not sure what.”

  “Well, whatever is important about the girl, the Albanians clearly don’t know it,” Vanner replied. “Upload that item. We might want to find an alternate plan to get the girl. One that is less likely to get her whacked.”

  * * *

  Katya realized she had screwed up by not making special arrangements to meet “Tom” last night. But as soon as she stepped down to the street, she saw his Fiat cruising slowly along the boulevard.

  “Tom!” she shouted as he pulled next to her. She ran over and leaned in the window, giving him a good solid French kiss. She hoped some day she’d get the chance to tell him how her night had gone. But not today, not after that kiss.

  “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. “W
hatever 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?”