by Mike Maden
“Fire away. And don’t blink.”
Kolak chuckled. “Funny.”
He sat up with another orchestration of creaking springs and leaned on his desk. His round, rheumy eyes narrowed. “Three dead Russian nationals were found in an abandoned house last night, each shot once in the forehead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“My office was contacted. I reached out to a colleague at the Russian embassy. At first, he denied any knowledge about them. But an hour later, the deputy chief of mission called me, and—how do you say it? ‘Tore me a new one.’”
“And this concerns me . . . how?”
“By the deputy’s reaction, it was clear to me that these Russians weren’t simply unfortunate tourists. But I already knew that.”
Kolak folded his hands on the desk, his eyes searching Jack’s face. “The strange thing is, they were wearing Bosnian police uniforms.”
Jack felt the floor fall out from under his feet, but he kept his poker face. Could those have been the same jokers who stopped them on the road from Dubrovnik?
“No comment, Jack?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Judging by their disguises, the deputy’s reaction, and their summary executions, I’m quite certain these were Russian security operatives. SVR, FSB, perhaps even GRU. I’m leaning toward the latter. The deputy is a ‘retired’ GRU intelligence officer. A nasty fellow.”
“Makes sense to me.”
Kolak nodded. “So, you didn’t know they were Russian?”
“How would I know anything about them? I never met them.”
“But you did.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to follow me around.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
Kolak fidgeted with his knitted tie. “The last time we met, you said you were looking for Aida Curić. I take it you found her.”
“You know good and well I did.”
“I’m disappointed, Jack. I asked you to let me know when you found her.”
“I guess it slipped my mind.”
“Or other things were on your mind.”
“Maybe.”
Jack had to assume Kolak’s spies had them under surveillance the entire time. He suddenly felt creeped out, and a little violated.
“And what is your opinion about Ms. Aida Curić?”
“My opinion is that she’s the woman my mother wanted me to find, and I found her. Or, technically, she came to me.”
“Interesting. Please go on.”
“She’s beautiful. She’s smart. She loves her country. She’s a great tour guide.”
“A tour guide? Yes, of course. I’m sure she is very good at it. She knows the country extremely well. Her tour company travels all over the Balkans. Anything else?”
“Not that you need to know.”
“Fair enough. For now. Let’s get back to the Russians. You were traveling from Dubrovnik back to Sarajevo, yes?”
Jack nodded.
“And these three men pulled you over?”
“Yes. They wore Bosnian police uniforms, one civilian, two tactical. They diverted us off the main road and down to the river. Aida said they were really Serb Mafia, looking for a bribe.”
“What time was this?”
“I’d say between two and three o’clock in the afternoon. I’m not exactly sure.”
“Why did they target your vehicle?”
Jack shrugged. “I’d rather not say.”
“Aida was smuggling ‘medicine,’ right?”
“You need to ask her. And I don’t like your implication.”
“It was medicine, wasn’t it?”
“That’s what the boxes said.”
“Did you look inside one?”
“Why should I? I had no reason to doubt her.”
“No, of course not. But perhaps it really was only medicine.”
Kolak glanced at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. “So they pulled you over, they demanded a bribe, you overwhelmed them somehow, and that’s when you killed them.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “What? Wait, no. That’s not what happened.”
“Of course not.” Kolak sat back again, smiling at Jack’s discomfort. “So tell me what did happen.”
“They pulled guns, I took two of them down—fists and feet only, no weapons. Aida disarmed the other one.”
“Aida did? How?”
“She kicked him in the nuts and then cracked him on the nose. He was a little guy. Down on the ground by the time I turned around.”
“Interesting skill set for a tour guide, wouldn’t you say?”
“You should see my mother with an AR-15, and she’s an eye surgeon.”
“What happened next?”
“We tied them up and called the police to turn them in. When we left, they were very much alive.”
“You tied them up, Jack?”
“No, Emir did. After we left.”
“Emir Jukić?”
“Yes. Aida’s cousin. He’s the guy who actually runs the tour service, not Aida. She only owns it.”
“He was traveling with you?”
“Apparently, he’d been following us. I didn’t know that at the time.”
“Interesting.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Everything you say is interesting to me, Jack. So tell me, who called the police, you or Aida?”
“Emir did. He told us to leave, and he’d take care of the phone call.”
“Why not stay there with him and wait for the police to come?”
“Aida said we couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“She said the police were corrupt, and that they’d cause her big problems, and that she was scared of them.”
“Of course she would say that.”
“Was she wrong?”
Kolak shrugged. “Not entirely.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Kolak sat up again. “In Bosnia, there are always three narratives for any given fact: a Croat narrative, a Serb narrative, and a Bosniak narrative. It’s usually only those who aren’t like you who can’t be trusted.”
“Can you blame her?”
“Who was it that said, ‘We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are’?”
Jack knew that it was Anaïs Nin, but he didn’t want to play along. “No idea.”
“It doesn’t matter. To continue, Aida said that these men who stopped you were Serb Mafia?”
“She did. We checked for identification, but they didn’t have any, and they weren’t offering any, so that explanation made sense to me at the time.”
“Well, we know now they weren’t Serb Mafia. Why do you suppose the Russians stopped you? Were they after Aida? Or you?”
“Why would they be after me?”
“Just exploring the options. Humor me.”
“They searched the van, so my guess is they were after her, or something they thought she had.”
“Not the medicines, obviously. Any idea what else?”
“None.”
“Anything else they wanted from you?”
“They asked her about her uncle, Tarik Brkić.”
“What do you know about Brkić?”
“Only what Aida told me. That he was related by marriage—her mother’s cousin, or something. And he’s a mechanic that does work for her sometimes.”
“That’s correct. I’m surprised she told you anything about him.”
“Why is that?”
“Brkić is a man we’ve had our eye on for some time. He’s a Bosnian citizen now, but originally he was from Chechnya. Nobody knows much about him. He keeps a rather low profile. Th
e rumor is that he came over in 1991 to fight in the Bosnian War, though that was never proven. That makes him a person of some interest to us.”
“And so is Aida, isn’t she?”
“Why do you say that?”
“You wanted me to find her, and to let you know when I did.”
“How does that make her a person of interest?”
“You already know who she is, where she works, where she lives. You didn’t need me to find her, did you? You needed me to get close to her.”
“Perhaps.”
“Who’s the liar now?”
Kolak laughed. “I said ‘perhaps,’ didn’t I? Yes, you are correct. You’re a smart fellow, Jack. I did want you to get to know her.”
“Because you haven’t been able to get anyone else close to her, which means you’ve tried to, which means you’re interested in her.”
“You should be an intelligence officer, Jack. You would make a good one. Or perhaps you already are?”
“Me? Hardly. Just a financial analyst.”
Kolak smiled. “Of course. With Hendley Associates. We checked you out, remember?”
“Anything else you need to know? I have a plane to catch.”
“Not until tomorrow morning, if I’m not mistaken. Vueling Flight 1405 to Rome, eight forty-two a.m.”
“What else do you want from me?”
“Just a few more questions. You said that Emir Jukić made the call to the Bosnian police?”
“Yes.”
“And you saw him make the call?”
Jack shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact. But Aida trusts him, and for what it’s worth, we met up with him thirty minutes later. He didn’t have any bloodstains on him or anything, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I wouldn’t suggest Emir killed those men. But perhaps he didn’t call the police as he said he did.”
“Or maybe he did. Maybe the police he called are the ones who killed those men.”
“We checked with the local cops. They never received such a phone call.”
“And you believe them?”
“Frankly, no. We accessed their phone records. No calls were made to the local station on the afternoon of that day.”
“So you think Emir called someone else, and that’s who killed those men?”
Kolak flashed another mouthful of crooked teeth. “Who can say?”
Jack checked his watch.
“Big date tonight, Jack?”
“Something like that.”
“I hate to take up so much of your time, but just one or two more questions, if I may.”
“Shoot.”
“Tell me about your visit to the Peace and Friendship Center. What did you think about it?”
“I’m impressed that your government allowed it in the first place. With unemployment so high in your country, I wouldn’t think you would want more immigrants.”
“We don’t. But it looks good to the pencil pushers in Brussels, and my government very much wants to join the EU. By taking in refugees, it solves a problem for Brussels, and makes us look more humanitarian for helping ‘poor Muslims.’”
“You sound cynical.”
“I’m a Catholic Croat. I’m sick and tired of always hearing about the suffering Muslims. I’m sure Ms. Curić filled your head with her propaganda about their unique victim status in our country.”
“She told me about the Croatian-fascist Ustaše during the last war, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
Kolak nodded. “Yes, of course she would. They were terrible, brutal killers, for sure. But I wonder, as she was giving you her history lesson, did she tell you about World War Two? About how Heinrich Himmler recruited not one but two entire Nazi SS divisions composed entirely of Bosniak Muslims? Judging by the look on your face, I imagine not. And if you want a real shock, Google the history of the German Nazis and the Muslim Brotherhood, the grandfather of all modern jihadis.”
Kolak leaned forward again. “History isn’t what we choose to forget, is it? If it weren’t for the Catholic Poles saving Vienna from the Turks in 1683, we’d all be Muslims now, wouldn’t we?”
“Can I go?”
“Yes, of course. But one last thing. I like you, Jack. I really do. And that’s why I’m going to say to you that you are in the middle of things you can’t possibly understand, including the three dead Russians.”
“And yet, despite the risk to my personal safety, you were willing to use me to get close to Aida.”
“A mistake on my part. I hope I have made it up to you by not telling the Russians that you and Aida were there.”
“Why not?”
“If I had, you and Aida would already be dead.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Take my advice. Be sure to be on that plane tomorrow. Better yet, change your ticket and leave tonight if you can. You saw all of the crowds and the traffic on the way over here? Those are thousands of Serbs swarming into the city for the Orthodox Renewal service tomorrow. Sarajevo is a powder keg, and there are fifty thousand matches already lit and ready to be thrown.”
“And if I decide not to leave tomorrow?”
“Have you heard the saying ‘God must love fools because he made so many of them’?”
Jack stood. “Good-bye, Agent Kolak.”
Kolak stood as well, and shook Jack’s hand. “Good-bye, Jack. Please stay safe. And, if I may, stay away from Aida Curić.”
55
OUTSIDE SARAJEVO, BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA
After processing the new batch of refugees, Aida swung by Jack’s place and picked him up as promised. She drove him to her house out in the country, about fifteen miles west of the city, not far off the R442, another narrow, two-lane asphalt road.
“How was your day?” Aida asked as she pulled away from the curb.
“Went to the Srebrenica exhibit. Depressing as hell.” He wasn’t sure if he should tell her about the Kolak meeting yet. He was still processing it. “Yours?”
“It went very well. Syrians are such nice people. One of them is a dentist. I think he might stay and help us in the clinic.”
They rode along in silence for a while.
“What’s bothering you, Jack?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” She rubbed his knee. “Tell me.”
“I had a meeting today with a guy named Kolak.”
“Dragan Kolak?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“He’s with Bosnian security. A Croat. A very bad man.”
“He certainly knows you.”
“What did he want?”
“Those Serbians that stopped us? He said they were actually Russians, and that they had been killed.”
“What?”
“I told him that we left them alive, and that Emir called the police after we left. He was suggesting that Emir either killed those men or contacted someone who did.”
Aida slapped the steering wheel, cursing in her native tongue. “That son of a bitch is a liar. Those weren’t Russians, Jack. Don’t you think I would know the difference between Serbs and Russians?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“And why would he think that Emir wanted to kill them?”
“He didn’t say. He was interested in Brkić, too. Said he was an ethnic Chechen.”
“He is. So what? He’s a Bosnian citizen.”
“He knew that you were smuggling medicine from Dubrovnik.”
“Did he say how he knew that?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“No, what?”
“He knew about the medicine, he knew about the Serbs who were trying to rob us, he knew they were killed. But he blames Emir.”
“Wha
t are you saying?”
“Kolak is dirty. They’re all dirty. And Kolak is out to get me because of the refugee center. You see, anything that helps Muslims is a threat to Serbs and Croats and thieves like him.”
Jack tried to put the pieces together. They still didn’t quite fit. “There is another possibility.”
Aida was focused on the hairpin curve spooling up the mountain. “What possibility?”
“What if Kolak is right? What if Emir and Brkić are somehow connected?”
“They are connected. They’re family, by marriage. And sometimes Brkić does maintenance work on our vans and helps out with the tours. I told you that already.”
“That’s my point. I think Emir might be using your company behind your back for his own purposes, or to help Brkić do whatever it is he’s into.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Jack. If they did that, they would be working against me. Don’t you think I’d know what was going on? Kolak is just using you to try and hurt me.”
“Think about it. Emir runs the company day in and day out. He and his drivers travel all over the Balkans and into Europe. It’s a perfect setup to run drugs or guns or, heck, smuggle people if they wanted to.”
“No way. I’d know about it.”
Jack laid a hand on her thigh. “I’m worried about you. There’s something going on, and it might wind up killing you.”
She stole a quick glance at him as she made another sharp turn. “Oh, Jack. What did I tell you? Bosnia is crazy, and it’s hard for outsiders to understand it. Stay away from Kolak.”
“I still think you should come home to Virginia with me tomorrow until we sort it all out.”
“That’s very sweet of you. But my people have been dealing with thieves like Kolak for five hundred years. We’re survivors.”
“I have friends back in Washington. They can do some research on this Kolak guy, and even Emir, if you want.”
“You haven’t talked to them yet about anything, have you?”
“No, not yet.”
“Good, because there are things I would want you to check out for me first. But when you do, please be careful. I don’t want you to hurt the center’s reputation, or mine. The work is too important.”
“I understand. I won’t do anything to compromise you or the center.”
