by Thomas Perry
“It would be better if you didn’t,” Tibor said. “They’re not interested in you yet, so let them stay uninterested.”
“So were the four men who have been following us police officers?”
“No. They’re creatures of Arpad Bako.”
“Who is he?”
“Describing him taxes my poor ability in your language. I can say he’s a greedy, evil man. But that’s not enough. He’s a thief. He’s a pig, a dog, a rat, a snake, a cockroach!” Tibor shifted into Hungarian for another sentence or two, then subsided.
“He doesn’t sound good,” said Remi. “He’s a zoo.”
“I’m sorry,” Tibor said. “I hate him. I’ve hated him since before I was born, and, since then, I’ve learned to hate him more.”
Remi said, “Can you tell us anything about him that we’ll understand? What does he do for a living?”
“He inherited the family businesses. The biggest one is a medicine factory. Pharmacology, you understand? They make pills and vaccines and things.”
“We understand.”
“It’s a big company. There are people like me who think the way it got so big was selling drugs to people whose only sickness is their need for drugs.”
Sam said, “You said you hated him before you were born. What did that mean?”
“His family and mine were on different sides for hundreds of years. His were against the revolt of 1848 and got members of my family arrested for treason. In World War Two, his family became Nazis just so they would be able to confiscate land and businesses. They informed on my grandfather’s brother to get him tortured and shot because he had a small farm the Bakos wanted. The next generation of Bakos were Communists to get privileges they then used to run the black market. When that government fell, they bribed people in power to let them take control of the medicine factory. Every time the world turns upside down, a Bako ends up on top and steps on other people’s heads. Arpad is the worst of the worst. He was in the car when his driver hit my second son, going over a hundred kilometers an hour. Bako made up the story that my son was a pickpocket who had stolen something from a man and run into the street without looking. He got five of his creatures to swear to it.”
Sam said, “Do you hate him enough to take a risk to deny him something he wants? Maybe to punish him?”
“I? Tibor? I would jump at the chance.”
“A good friend of ours, a German archaeologist, was kidnapped yesterday in Berlin. He’d made a discovery near here and gone to Berlin to study what he’d found because he was afraid. He’d seen those four men in the black car following him.”
“I understand,” Tibor said. “Bako is one of those people who claim they’re direct descendants of Attila the Hun. A few years ago, a bunch of them petitioned the government to have themselves declared an official minority group. It’s just greed.”
“Greed? I don’t follow,” said Remi.
“It’s the tomb. He wants to find the tomb and claim it as his own.”
“The tomb of Attila the Hun?” she said. “He won’t have much luck. It’s one of the great known tombs that have never been found. Does he claim to be a relative of Genghis Khan too?”
“Not yet.”
She turned to Sam. “What do you think we should do?”
“What can anyone do?” Tibor said. “Bako doesn’t just have money. He has his own little army of security people to guard him, his houses, his factories. There’s no question he would kill to keep someone else from finding Attila’s tomb or kidnap them if he thought they knew something he could use.”
Sam said quietly, “We’re not just going to stand by and do nothing.”
“What will you do?”
“Find our friend and take him back,” said Remi.
Tibor was silent for a moment. “Really?”
“Yes,” said Sam. “He called us because he thought he might need help. He was right.”
“Sam,” Remi said. “Maybe you shouldn’t—”
“No, I think Tibor’s our guy, Remi. Tibor, I believe we can do this, but we need a man who’s Hungarian, who’s brave, and who hates Arpad Bako. We’ll pay you well for your trouble and your time. If you’re arrested, we’ll get you the best lawyer. It won’t be any extra trouble because he’ll have to defend us too.”
“Maybe I’d better show you who this man is before anybody does anything. I’m driving you to my garage to get a different car first.”
“Wait,” said Sam. “I’d like to get rid of those men who are following us. Let me drive. If I damage your car, I’ll pay for the repairs and your loss of the use of it.”
Tibor looked skeptical, but he pulled over and let Sam get behind the wheel. He sat in the passenger seat. Sam made a quick U-turn and then a left to pass behind the big black car. Tibor gripped the dashboard and stomped the nonexistent brake.
“You’ll enjoy riding with Sam,” said Remi. “He’s barred from driving in four countries.”
Sam accelerated up the road. When the black car followed and began to pull closer behind him, he let the left tires stray off the pavement onto the dusty shoulder and throw a big cloud of dust and bits of gravel into the air. The driver of the black car tried unsuccessfully to swerve to avoid it, almost lost control, and veered from side to side, overcompensating. Sam said, “He’s not too good. Is there a place near here with very narrow streets?”
“There’s a very old village about two miles ahead. It’s too far from the river to have been destroyed by floods.”
Sam accelerated more on the long, straight stretch across the plain, but roads like this were made for the big black car. It began to gain on Sam steadily. He delayed by weaving from side to side, then moving into the center of the road so they couldn’t pull up beside him. When he saw the village coming up, he swerved to the left lane abruptly. The black car moved to the right, Sam stomped on his brake, and the black car shot past them.
Sam made a slow, safe turn onto the main street of the village, then went past a few stone buildings before he turned to the right into an alley so narrow that he could barely fit the taxi between the buildings. “Careful, careful,” Tibor muttered. At the far end of the alley, Sam stopped.
Sam, Remi, and Tibor watched the back window and saw the black car, moving fast, flash past the opening of the alley. “Now we see if he’s angry enough or we need to work on him some more,” Sam said.
The black car made a tire-squealing stop, backed up rapidly into sight, turned, and sped into the alley after the taxi. Sam pulled forward out of the alley into a small open square. He got out. “Take the wheel,” he said to Tibor. Then he stepped back to the open end of the alley. He picked up the handles of a wheelbarrow loaded with stones and prepared to push it into the opening.
Before he could, there was a bang, and then a loud scraping sound that rose to a screech, then stopped. Sam put down the wheelbarrow, ran to the taxi, and got into the rear seat with Remi. Tibor backed up to glance down the alley. He and the Fargos could see that the big black car had gotten wedged between the first pair of buildings. Its mirrors were gone, and it was jammed against the bricks on both sides. The engine roared, and there was a painful shriek of metal but little progress. Tibor pulled forward around the end of the row of buildings to the main street and drove back the way they had come.
They drove to a building that looked like a small warehouse. There were five men in overalls and work clothes. “Those two,” he said, “the good-looking ones, are my brothers. The others are cousins.”
Tibor got out and went to talk to a couple of them, then brought them back with him. A third man pulled a van out of the garage and left it running. Everyone smiled, shook hands, and pantomimed their delight to make one another’s acquaintance. Tibor got into the van’s driver’s seat, and Sam and Remi got into the back. They were surprised to see that a man got in with them. He said, “I’m János. I’ll be taking the pictures.”
“Thank you,” said Remi. She whispered to Sam, “What pictures?
”
János snapped her picture. “You’re welcome,” he said.
Tibor drove them out to the east side of the city, then farther out onto the grassy plains. Five miles later they came to a large complex with five rows of white buildings. Most of them were long and low rectangles with no windows. János aimed his camera and began to shoot, clicking and winding automatically. He kept shooting as they drove along the tall chain-link fences with coiled razor wire along the top. They passed a guard gate that looked like the entrance to a military base, complete with armed guards in gray battle dress uniforms.
Remi said, “Why all the guards?”
“The reason they give is that they make and store narcotic drugs here, and they do research on new medicines, so competitors might steal their secrets. The real reason is so Bako can do as he likes and nobody asks questions.”
All through the trip, Sam was silent. He looked closely at everything, but he said nothing.
When the van returned to the garage, Sam asked for a piece of paper and said to Tibor, “I’m going to make a list of things we’ll need and give you money to buy them. If you can’t get something, tell me and I’ll have them flown here.” He began to write as he spoke. “Four gray uniforms like the ones Bako’s men wear. Four pistols with two spare magazines each in holsters on belts of black webbing. The ones they carry looked to me like Czech CZ-75s. If there’s a Hungarian model that looks like that, it’ll be fine. Black boots, four pairs, mid-calf height. We’ll need to have the boots polished and the uniforms pressed. And remember, one set is for Remi, so get one size small. And get one short black leather dog leash and collar.”
“Anything else?” said Tibor. “Anything to go with the collar?”
“A dog.”
“A dog?”
“I’d like a German shepherd. If necessary, it can be a Rottweiler or Doberman. He needs to have a good nose and be well trained and obedient.”
“There is a man in Szeged who trains dogs.”
“And he’s your cousin, right?” asked Sam.
“Not everybody is my cousin. This one is my wife’s cousin. I’ll see if he has a good dog right now.”
“Can you take Remi to see his dogs and pick one out?”
“I could, but these are Hungarian dogs. Remi doesn’t speak Hungarian.”
Remi said, “I can learn as many words as a German shepherd.”
“And all dogs speak to Remi,” said Sam. He looked at Tibor. “Are you and János willing to do this? Have you made up your minds?”
“I’d rather go kidnap Bako and trade him for your friend. But, yes.”
“If this doesn’t work, we’ll try that next.”
SZEGED, HUNGARY
REMI FARGO STOOD AT THE GATE IN THE FENCE AROUND the exercise yard, where there were several German shepherds. She said to Tibor’s wife’s cousin, “What’s that one’s name?”
“Gyilkas,” he said. “It means ‘killer.’”
“And this one?”
“Hasfel. It’s short for hasfelmetszo. It means ‘ripper.’”
She went to the gate and reached for the latch. “Miss, you don’t want to be in there.”
“Of course I do. Why should they trust me if I don’t trust them?” She stepped inside and closed the gate. She walked confidently up to each dog and let it sniff her hand, petted the thick fur at its neck, then moved on. She spotted the biggest dog in the compound, a tan male with a black head and tail. He had been sitting a distance away, watching. Now he approached her, and, as he did, the others all seemed to melt away.
“And who are you?” she asked the dog. He came up to her, looking directly into her eyes as he did. He sat in front of her, then licked her offered hand. She knelt and petted him, and he lay down so she could rub his belly.
The cousin said, “His name is Zoltán. It means ‘Sultan.’”
“He’s the big guy, eh?” she said. “The boss.”
“Yes, miss. He doesn’t usually do that with strangers.” He corrected himself. “With anybody.”
“He can read me. He knows I always fall for his type.” She leaned down and spoke to the dog quietly. “What do you think, Mr. Zoltán? Do you want to do some work with me tonight?”
She seemed to get the answer she wanted. She stood, and the dog stood with her. He walked with her to the gate, and she brought him out with her. To Tibor’s wife’s cousin she said, “He’s the one. Now, would you please teach me some proper commands in Hungarian so I don’t embarrass him?”
* * *
THE BAKO Gyogyszereszeti Tersazag had ended its daylight shift hours before the new security van arrived at the front gate of the complex. It was dark, and the lights above the checkpoint were the brightest in sight. Two armed guards stepped to the van outside the tall fence. The young guard stood beside János, the driver, and looked past him into the van, and the other, the senior man, stood on the passenger side where Tibor sat. Sam had decided that Tibor should wear the high rank so he could be the spokesman. Tibor had gold hash marks on his right sleeve and a gold star on his baseball cap while the others had no insignia of rank.
When the guard asked a question, Tibor appeared to say what had been arranged earlier, that they had brought a search dog because one of the labs had reported an intruder. When the man asked him a second question, Tibor seemed to find the high-ranking officer that lived in the back of his brain. He turned a disdainful look on the man and answered wearily. The man began to say something else, but Tibor interrupted him, coldly furious. He gestured at the gate and shouted something in Hungarian that could only be, “Open up! You’re wasting time!”
The other guard on János’s side had been looking in the back of the van, smiling at Remi. Tibor’s shout startled him, and then he heard a low growl, and saw the big shepherd start to bare his teeth, leaning toward the open window. The man jerked back, stepped to his post, and activated a circuit to make the gate swing inward.
János drove through the gate and kept going up the asphalt road, then made a turn beyond the first row of buildings so the van was out of sight of the two guards. He stopped and everyone got out. Remi and the big dog went first, János and Sam came next, while Tibor stood a little apart like a drill sergeant next to his marching platoon. As a group, they looked very formidable and professional. Sam’s care in being sure all wore pressed uniforms, identical sidearms, boots, utility belts, and caps was paying off. Remi also had a matching black shoulder bag. She gave Zoltán a biscuit, patted him hard, murmured a few words to him in Hungarian, then reached into her leather bag. She pulled out the scarf that Albrecht had lost in his lab and let the dog sniff it. Then she said, “Vadászat!” Hunt!
Zoltán began to sniff, moving back and forth across the paved area between the rows of buildings. He seemed to be at a loss at first, but then he moved on ahead, pulling Remi with him. She spoke to the dog in English as they went, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come on, you big boy. You’re going to use that big beautiful nose to find Albrecht.”
The rest of the group followed at a distance of just a couple yards, giving Remi and the dog space to move or double back, but Zoltán walked along at a slow, comfortable pace, holding his head up and turning from one side to the other, no more interested in one spot than another. Sam said, “Has he lost him?”
Remi said, “He’s got the scent in mind and now he’s hunting. We just have to let him search for another whiff of it.”
“Look up there,” said János. There was a low rectangular building at the edge of the compound farthest from the road. It had its own high chain-link fence around it with coiled razor wire on top. Inside that fence was a second one that had four strands of thinner, tightly strung wire.
Sam said, “It’s an electrified fence.” He pointed to a sign in Hungarian. “What does that say?”
“Danger. Contagious Disease Research Laboratory. No Unauthorized Personnel. Protective Suits Required at All Times. Gate Sets Off Alarm.”
“Do you think it’s r
eal?” asked János. “If I kidnapped someone, I’d put him in a place like that.”
“Bring Zoltán,” Sam said. Remi brought the big dog close to the gate. He sniffed around dutifully and then moved on.
They kept going and then turned a corner, and, as they did, they came face-to-face with a pair of security guards dressed exactly as they were. The two men had AK-47 assault rifles slung over their shoulders. The one nearest to Sam lifted a flashlight to shine on their faces.
Sam’s judo training made him move quickly. His arm shot out like a striking snake to snatch the flashlight out of the man’s hand as he stepped into the man’s body and put him on the ground, then shone the light in the other man’s face.
Tibor was as shocked as the two sentries, but he recovered more quickly. He spoke loudly and harshly in Hungarian, and what he said was not a compliment. Sam and Remi could guess that it involved the guards’ dress and deportment. Tibor took the flashlight and shone it on them as he found fault with their shaves, then tapped one man’s shirt because its buttons did not line up with his belt. He didn’t like their shoeshines either. Finally he waved them past with a final threatening growl.
Sam said, “Very well done.”
“Thank you. But have you noticed we’ve been here only ten minutes and we’ve been stopped twice by men with automatic weapons?”
“It’s an encouraging sign,” said Sam. “This place is too well guarded to be an honest drug company. Let’s hope one of the things they’re hiding is Albrecht Fischer.”
Suddenly the big dog surged ahead. His leash tightened and jerked Remi’s arm, then pulled her relentlessly forward. “We’ve got a scent,” she said. Zoltán tugged Remi along the roadway between the windowless buildings, and the others followed closely. Sam and János spread out on both sides of her and watched for obstacles ahead and either way, with their hands resting on their pistols.
They reached a building near the farthest corner of the complex, some kind of utility or storage building. There was one door made of steel, and around it was a steel cage with its own door and an electronic card reader on the latch. Zoltán went to the cage, nosed around it, trying to find a way in, getting more and more excited, sniffing under the grating and then jumping up to put his forepaws on it.
