Bad Traffick: A Leine Basso Thriller

by D. V. Berkom

  Leine had a seat on one of two white leather chairs across from Vladimir. He scowled and opened the top drawer of his desk. Leine tensed and moved for her gun, but instead of a weapon he pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka and two ornate shot glasses. She relaxed and rested her hand on the arm of the chair.

  “Join me,” he said, and poured two shots. Leine accepted one and threw it back. The liquid warmed her throat. She set the glass on the desk. He did the same and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You know, after you killed Borys and stole gun of the Frenchman, I vowed vengeance. Now you walk into my store, showing no fear, asking for favor.” He moved her shot glass alongside his and poured two more drinks. Then he slid one toward her and drank the other before continuing.

  “The only reason your brains are not spilled out on my floor is you did world favor by killing the Frenchman. But, you also killed one of my men. I think this makes us even. I give you gun, no strings attached,” he said with a shrug. “It was piece of shit anyway.”

  “So this means I owe you a favor if you have the information I'm searching for,” Leine replied.

  Vladimir nodded. “Exactly. Your services will come in handy.”

  “I'm not in that life anymore, Vlad.”

  “You are if we continue conversation.”

  “I will do many things, but I no longer kill for money or favor. We will have to come up with something we can both agree upon.”

  Vladimir appeared to consider her statement. Then he nodded his head. “You still have valuable contacts, yes? This I will use in future. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Leine didn't want to consent to anything, but sometimes you needed to do things you didn't like. Finding Mara was one of those times. She continued. “I'm looking for a twelve-year-old American girl with unusual green eyes. Currently she is missing and believed to be hiding out on the streets of L.A. Information I've received suggests that perhaps she had originally been taken by a group originating in Moscow who are also looking for her. I need to find her first.” Leine left out that Mara may already be in the hands of the traffickers. She was curious to see how Vladimir reacted.

  He watched her through hooded eyes as he listened. When she finished, he remained silent for a moment. He cleared his throat and squinted at her as he poured a third shot and drank it. He offered another to Leine, but she declined.

  “This girl, what is her name?”

  “Mara.”

  “I may have what you need.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “You can be sure this is not work of Russian organization. The number one reason being they don't deal with American children, only young women of consenting age from what you call Eastern bloc. Is still USSR to me.” He waved away the implication that the USSR was no longer in its former glory. “They're happy to become part of organization. What would they have if they stayed? Poverty, disease and death. This way, they receive food and place to live.”

  Leine wasn't about to argue the finer points of conscripting young women into sex trafficking with Vladimir. To him, it was a money-making venture, pure and simple.

  “And, you say this girl escaped?” Vladimir shook his head, his laugh scornful. “Reason number two: she would not have escaped.”

  “Can you tell me who wants to find her?”

  “His name is Greg Kirchner. He was small-time hustler who made name for himself securing children for rich old men.” Vladimir spat the words as though they left a bad taste in his mouth. “He operates out of office in Encino. There is no honor in this. In my organization, having sex with children is punishable by death. They are exterminated like the rat-fucks they are.”

  He seemed to know a lot about the non-Russian trafficker. Leine pressed on. “I was told a man with a Russian accent was one of the men who had taken her. Any idea who that might be?”

  Vladimir rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed. “There is much pain in my heart to say this terrible thing.” He frowned as he fingered the label on the vodka bottle. “My nephew on my wife's side, Yuri, is one you speak of, although he's from Ukraine. It was his cousin you killed last time you were here. If you think he will help you, you are mistaken.”

  The name matched the one Lou gave her. Vladimir hadn't lied to save family. She wondered why. “Where can I find him?”

  Vladimir glanced at the ceiling before answering. “He sometimes drinks at Baba Ganesh. You must promise me you will not kill him. My wife would never let me hear end of it.”

  “How good is he?”

  Vladimir shook his head and powered back another shot. He rested the glass on the table and looked her steadily in the eyes. “He is disgrace to our family. I think you will have to convince him to help you.” He smiled. “I doubt you will have problem with that, yes?”

  “Yes.” Leine rose to leave. “Thank you, Vladimir.”

  Vladimir bowed his head. “You are welcome. One of my people will contact you in future for favor. Please, do not kill.”

  “As long as it's by phone or letter, you can rest assured I will not.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  BABA GANESH SMELLED LIKE SPILLED booze and sweat. Two dancers in varying stages of undress wearing veils edged in silver and gold coins gyrated to a Middle Eastern techno beat. The rectangular stage, situated in the middle of the club, was surrounded by a chrome and Lucite bar with LED lights embedded in the handrail. A lone bartender was busy working a small crowd of Asian men, obviously drunk, who whistled and waved twenty dollar bills at the dancers.

  Leine scanned the club, looking for someone fitting Vladimir's description of Yuri. A thin man with a crooked nose and bruises under his eyes sat by himself at the end of the bar. Shoulders slumped forward, he stared at one of the dancers, a partially consumed drink in front of him. Leine recognized him as one of the men who was chasing Mara at Grauman's Theater during Miles' handprint ceremony. Keeping her eye on the bouncer standing sentry at the far end of the room, she slowed her pace, circled the bar and slipped up behind him, gun drawn.

  “Just the man I'm looking for,” she said into his ear as she removed his gun from his waistband and slid it into the back of her pants, under her jacket. Yuri jumped but stilled as soon as he became aware of her semiautomatic pushed into his side. He turned his head, his eyes widening when he saw who held the gun.

  “You—” he sputtered, his face growing dark. “I should rip out your throat with my bare hands for what you did to Borys.” His breathing came in short bursts. Leine had to turn her face away from the stench of booze and bad gums. A strange whistling sound emanated from his nose. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Leine shoved the gun harder into his side.

  “You might want to consider why I'm here,” she said.

  A bead of sweat formed on his forehead and tracked its way down his face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. “I don't know what you are saying. How did you find me?”

  “The how isn't important. The why is.” Leine scanned the bar again to make sure no one was close enough to see the gun or notice Yuri's discomfiture. “I need you to tell me where the girl is.”

  Yuri stiffened. “I don't know what you are talking about.”

  “Oh, I think you do, Yuri. And if you don't tell me, I will break more than your nose.”

  “Stand in line,” Yuri replied. The bravado in his voice held a slight tremor. He lifted the drink to his lips and threw it back, then banged it on the bar. The bartender didn't bat an eyelash, preferring the large group of paying customers at the other end. “I will be dead soon.”

  “Then you shouldn't have a problem telling me where Greg Kirchner is.”

  Yuri looked at Leine, a smirk on his face. “You are crazy if you think I would tell you this.”

  “Take a walk with me, Yuri. Now.” Leine grabbed hold of his arm and wrenched it back and up, forcing his hand between his shoulder blades until Yuri yelped in pain. She felt around his back and under his arms looking for additional weapons.
When she didn't find any, she dragged him off the barstool.

  “I haven't paid—”

  “I've got it,” Leine said as she threw some bills near his empty glass and pushed him through the bar to the back door. When they hit daylight, she kicked the metal door shut and released his arm.

  Yuri turned to face her, rubbing his shoulder. “What the fuck do you think I'm going to tell you? I'm not going to give you directions where you can find my boss. You will just have to 'Goggle' it.”

  “That's Google, idiot, and yes, you will give me directions because if you don't I will take you somewhere quiet and perform painful acts, not only on your face but other places as well.” Leine indicated his crotch with the barrel of her gun. “By your reaction, you know who I am, right? Did you hear how they found the Frenchman, what kind of condition he was in?” Leine hadn't tortured the Frenchman before firing the shot that killed him, but Yuri didn't have to know that. His uncertain expression gave Leine the response she was looking for.

  “Well?” she asked.

  Yuri bowed his head and crossed his arms. Leine sighed and pulled back the gun's slide and aimed it at his head. He dropped his hands and stood at attention.

  “Walk to the tan car over there.”

  “They don't have the girl. If they did, I would not be alive.”

  At that moment, a black BMW careened around the corner, tires spitting rocks, passenger side window lowered to reveal a man's arm holding a small submachine gun.

  “Down!” Leine grabbed Yuri by the shirt collar and threw him to the ground behind an SUV. She dropped and rolled behind him and came up firing. The bullets from the other gun strafed the dirt next to her, kicking up pebbles and dust. She tracked the car as it drove past her and fired at the open window. One of the bullets hit the man's arm and the gun dropped to the ground. The BMW swerved and skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust.

  Leine dragged Yuri up off the gravel and shoved him toward a cement barrier as she took cover behind a red Buick before the driver exited the car. Her heart racing, she reached into the cargo pocket of her pants for more ammo and replaced the spent magazine from her gun. Then she took a deep breath and stood.

  The driver's shadow indicated he had crouched behind the front wheel well of the BMW. He popped up near the front corner panel and peppered the Buick with bullets. Leine returned fire. Her shots ricocheted off the hood next to him. He ducked, then came back up, fired a couple of shots and ducked again. Pieces of the Buick's side mirror glanced off her arm. The back window exploded from the inside the BMW as the man she'd wounded shot through the glass. He wasn't as good with his left hand, and the bullets went wide. Leine took aim and fired through the opening, hitting him in the left shoulder. His head disappeared as he fell back.

  The driver reappeared, but Leine was ready for him. The bullet carved through the center of his forehead and exploded out the back. He snapped backward and disappeared behind the car.

  Leine turned in time to see Yuri running toward the street. She sprinted after him, catching him before he made it out of the parking lot.

  He bent over, hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Leine glanced at his feet while she paced off the adrenaline.

  “Those aren't the shoes to wear when you need to run, Yuri,”

  He stared at his square-toed dress shoes and shrugged. “Yeah, but they look good.”

  The sound of sirens in the distance told Leine it was time to leave. She grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pulled him toward her car. “You're coming with me.”

  ***

  They headed west through Beverly Hills toward the 405 freeway. Yuri still refused to tell her where in Encino his boss' office was located, but Leine had confidence she'd be able to persuade him. He stared out the window at the palm tree-lined streets with a glum look.

  “You know, when I came to US I thought everybody got to live in one of those.” He pointed to a brick and stucco mansion as they passed, set back from an imposing iron gate with at least two luxury cars in view. He sighed and leaned his head back. “And now I am dead. I will never bring my mother to Los Angeles to see Hollywood Boulevard or be able to take her on the Map of Stars.”

  “Yeah, L.A. can be a bitch, can't she?”

  Yuri's laugh sounded more like an aborted hiccup. He wiped at his eyes. “You aren't kidding.”

  They drove in silence until they reached Encino. Leine exited and pulled into a vacant lot behind an empty insurance building, well hidden from the main road. She turned to Yuri. Perspiration rolled down the sides of his face. “Time to tell me where I'm going.”

  He shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No.”

  “Look, Yuri. I saved your life back at Baba Ganesh, agreed?”

  He nodded.

  “Then I say you owe me. If you don't tell me what I want to know, I will first try to make you see it my way.” She indicated the vacant lot with a meaningful stare. “If that doesn't work, and I'm pretty sure it will, I will deliver you back to the bar. I don't think the people who are trying to kill you will be very happy about what happened back there. At least one man is dead and the other is going to be out of commission for a very long time.”

  Yuri didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he sat straighter in his seat, apparently having made up his mind. “You are right. I owe you my life. You're looking for the girl. I can't tell you where my boss is. For this, he would torture me before he killed me, but I can tell you she tried to contact Miles Fournier, the actor.”

  “That's it? That's all you've got?” Leine pointed her gun at him. “Sorry buddy, but you're going to have to come up with something a lot better than that.”

  “No—wait. She was seen at restaurant he frequents. The Briar Cliff. I know this because I myself located the information.”

  “You mean from that guy you put in the hospital?”

  Yuri's mouth opened and closed like a fish stranded on gravel. “I…how…”

  “I've already spoken with him. He's going to be okay, in case you were interested. Although he will need a lot of physical therapy to be able to walk again.”

  He eyed the gun with unease. “You must let me explain—”

  Leine frowned and shook her head. “No, Yuri. It's quite clear what you were doing.” She leaned closer. “It's kind of like what's happening now, except I'm not going to go as easy on you if you don't give me the information I need.”

  Yuri swallowed and licked his lips. His hand trembled as he wiped his forehead. She could tell by the look on his face he was searching for something to say, anything to make this crazy woman put the gun down.

  Exactly what she wanted.

  “All I know is she hasn't been back to restaurant. The police somehow found out about her; an unmarked car has been parked there every night.” His voice wavered. “They were trying to kill me at Baba Ganesh. Why tell me important information when I am going to be dead?”

  “Good point. Then it's even more vital that you tell me how to find Greg.”

  His breath caught and he let out a half-sob. “You don't understand. There's no way you can get inside the building. He will only allow people he knows through the door.”

  “Well, he knows you, right?”

  His face drained to a pasty shade.

  Leine patted his arm. “It's settled, then. You'll help me get in to see Greg and I'll let you go. Deal?”

  Yuri closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Deal,” he whispered.

  She slid her gun into her shoulder holster and put the car in gear. Then she pulled out of the parking lot, driving slowly through the neighborhood, the latest recession evident from the dark interior of the empty buildings.

  The force of the impact from the other vehicle threw them both forward into the dash. Dazed, Leine shook her head to clear it. She stomped on the accelerator, but the SUV stayed with them. Leine made a hard right around the next corner. The other vehicle dropped back slightly before it surged forward and smashed into the sedan's r
ear corner, causing the car to fishtail. She steered out of the slide and turned again. The SUV drove up beside the sedan and broadsided them, sending them over the curb and into a parking lot. The truck followed and slammed into the back end, shoving the car over a raised median, high-centering them.

  The car lurched to a stop. Leine unbuckled her seatbelt and dropped down in her seat, pulling her gun from its holster. Yuri followed her lead, the whites of his eyes visible. “Shit—” Yuri started to say, but Leine held her finger to her lips.

  She reached up to position the rearview mirror to get a look at the hulking SUV now affixed to the trunk of her car. No one occupied the driver's seat. No gunfire erupted from the other vehicle, which was odd. Leine glanced at Yuri, the bruises under his eyes more pronounced because of the ashen pallor of his face.

  “Stay down,” she said in a low voice. Yuri didn't argue and slid the rest of the way onto the floor. Leine wasn't about to let the driver of the SUV gun down Yuri. He still had too much information she needed.

  She eased her door open and crouched low as she stepped outside. Alert for movement, she crept around the car, edging closer to the truck and stopping to listen at varying intervals. The silence struck her as odd. Typically, when someone made that kind of grand entrance they used the surprise generated to complete their objective. In this case, Yuri was still alive and so was she.

  She continued around the vehicle, checking underneath the SUV for a visual, but saw nothing. The driver could be standing behind a wheel, or might still be inside. She eased her way toward the rear of the truck, scanning the area to make sure someone hadn't slipped around from behind to take Yuri out.

  With her back to the SUV and gun in front of her, Leine rounded the end of the vehicle. The kick came out of nowhere and temporarily paralyzed her right hand. Her gun fell from her grasp and clattered to the ground. The next one hit her in the ribs. She staggered backward and turned as a wall of t-shirt-wearing muscle crashed into her and they fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her side, Leine brought her knee up and at the same time grabbed the barrel of the man's gun, barely forcing it away as he pulled the trigger.