by Ted Peters
“You must be Graham Vashington, yes?” she continued in a deep but sexy smoker’s voice. She sipped her wine. Her eyes turned momentarily toward the glass to register satisfaction. Watching the show, Graham muttered, “Yes, of course. And you?”
“Katarina Louchakova. My friends call me Katya.”
“I have heard the name Louchakova before. But, should I know you?“
“No. But you might know this…Cyrus Twelve.”
“Yes, I know Cyrus. He’s twelve.”
She simply looked at him, waiting for Graham to say something that she would understand. Graham laughed at his own joke and added a bit more wine to his half empty glass.
Chapter 76
Prvićć Luka
“I have for you a note. This is information for Leona Foxx. Can I trust you to make certain she receives it?”
“Yes, of course. I believe that is why I am here. I am Ms. Foxx’s associate, her partner.”
Graham’s mysterious female guest twisted slightly, crossed her legs, and lit a filtered cigarette. She held the cigarette between her middle fingers and drew the wine to her succulent lips. While sipping she looked up at Graham and made eye contact. Although calm on the outside, Graham felt himself twitch on the inside. With her non-smoking and non-drinking hand, she slid a small piece of paper across the table. Graham retrieved it and placed it in his tee shirt pocket. It disappeared from visibility.
She placed her wine glass on the table and took a long draught of cigarette smoke. She exhaled it slowly off to one side through her puckered lips. Her next glance at Graham told him she recognized his curiosity.
“You vant to know about me?”
“Yes, I certainly do.”
“You can ask Leona. She tell you everything. She has told me everything about you. You are quite a man, Mr. Vashington!” She repeated the cycle of a drink of wine and a puff of the cigarette.
“Well, if you know so much about me and I know nothing about you, perhaps it’s your turn to talk.”
“I live up the hill. The green house with the flamingo shutters. Built by two lesbians. You must know it. It’s a safe house for the Russian Mafia.”
“Russian Mafia? I thought you people worked in secret. Why should I know anything about this?”
“Everybody knows this. What people do not know…” Katarina leaned toward Graham, inviting him to come closer. He leaned her direction. “What people do not know is just who is Mafia, who is an agent, and who is a double agent. We all share the same house.”
“Which one are you?”
Katarina smiled, sipped, and smoked.
Graham realized that this was the end of the conversation. His eyes drifted. Once again he saw a head bobbing in the water. He turned back toward Katya and poured more wine, asking the waiter in a black and white striped shirt for a second bottle. He asked the waiter for the meaning of the Korean symbols tattooed on his neck. “Happiness. Peace. And Love. I like these,” said the waiter. When Graham’s eyes turned once again to the harbor, to his astonishment he recognized the swimmer.
Leona paused to dunk her head and let the water comb her hair backward. In her deep blue bikini, she climbed up a ladder to the rock wall top and walked toward the table. Katarina leaped from her chair and ran to hug the dripping swimmer. The two women exchanged greetings in a tongue Graham did not know. Finally, Leona approached Graham and asked, “do you want to hug a wet girl?”
“Of course. If Katya can do it, so can I.” She embraced him, wetting his clothes as she had Katarina’s. They seated themselves. Leona received her glass of wine and the waiter showed up with the ispod peke. Once the lid was removed and the vegetables with octopus were on two plates, Graham noticed that Katarina was no where to be seen. She was gone.
“Did Katya leave anything for me?” Leona asked Graham. This led Graham to scowl.
“Hi, Ms. Foxx. I’m Graham Washington. Nice to meet you. Ever heard of me? Why is your first question about the mysterious Russian vamp?”
“Grammy?” Leona looked a tad startled, giving him a punishing frown.
“Goddamit,” Graham ranted. “Why the hell am I here on an island that doesn’t even rate a fly turd on the map? Why am I watching you rise up from the water like Venus out of a clam shell? Where did you swim from, New York? Who was your Muscovite girlfriend who knows ‘all about’ me? I don’t like to cuss, but what the fuck is going on?!” Graham’s right hand pounded the table top.
Leona stared at Graham, saying nothing. She spoke after Graham appeared to have calmed enough to allow her to seize the agenda. “Did Katya give you a note or anything?”
Graham fingered his pocket. He handed the folded paper to Leona without reading it. Leona placed it in front of her, next to the candle now lighting the table as darkness was falling. She sipped her Graševina and registered satisfaction with her eyes. After reading the note she turned it and slid it over for Graham’s reading.
Šibenik
Svetiste Square
Medicinska Masaža
Top floor
“Here’s what I want you to do, Graham. I suggest you take notes. Write on this paper if you need to.”
Graham dutifully pulled a pen from his cargo shorts and readied himself to write.
“Tomorrow morning take the 6:45am ferry back to Šibenik. First, rent a motorcycle. Make it a Vespa, just right for two riders. Then arrange for a speed boat, a hydroplane with pilot if necessary. Gas it up for a trip to Split.”
“That’s going to be costly.”
“You’ve got a CIA budget, Graham. Don’t be stingy when it’s a matter of life and death.”
“Since when do we care about death?” Graham was wearing the kind of smile that indicated he knew his joke would not be funny.
Leona granted him respect for his attempt at humor. “Well, then, call it national security. But, spend the damned money.”
Graham nodded and then raised his pen above the paper. “OK, I’ll write: ‘spend money’. Exclamation point.”
“Here’s what you write: ‘Ulica, Sv. Nikole Tavelica sign’.”
“What?”
Leona repeated and spelled the words. Find the square in Šibenik in front of the church of St. Nikolas, yes, Santa Claus. It’s a small square. On the far side you’ll find a narrow alley, only wide enough for a single small car. On the building’s corner is a sign, ‘Ulica, Sv. Nikole Tavelica’. At 1:30am tomorrow night—that’s Friday morning—park the Vespa under that sign. Leave the keys in it, so all I have to do is turn on the engine and fly. Can you handle this?”
Graham pretended to be taking dictation. “Can you handle this…” He placed the pen point on his lower lip. Leona let out the first chuckle of the interchange.
“Next, boss,” said Graham.
Leona continued. “Have the pilot and the speed boat quietly sitting just a few feet off the ferry landing in Šibenik. Not moored. Free. But close to the concrete pier. Be ready to peel off at full throttle.”
“When?”
“Please be ready by 2:05am. More than likely I’ll be a few minutes later than that. But, don’t flag in zeal.”
“What happens then?”
“Just wait and see.”
Chapter 77
Prvićć Luka
It was not hard for Leona to turn on her feminine charm and reshape the evening’s mood. Two ‘X’ chromosomes trump an ‘XY’ combo whenever subtle cards are being played.
After paying the bill and rising from the table, the two Americans walked a few steps to the water’s edge. The full moon’s pearly white glow spangled the open sea with a glittering pathway leading from earth to heaven. Graham’s right arm reached around to clasp Leona’s right hip. She complemented the gesture by placing her left arm and hand on his back. She laid her head on his right shoulder. They stood for a moment, silent and immobile. Graham turned his gaze toward her forehead. She looked up. Their eyes met. Then, she closed hers and stood quietly in wait.
They were interrupt
ed by a loud noise. A bang. Then two more.
“Were those gun shots?” queried Graham.
“I think so.”
Graham took off running in the direction of the shots. He moved quickly along the escalade in his sandals. Leona, still with bare swimmer’s feet followed but more slowly. Around the hotel and across the square they could see activity on the steps below the post office. Graham arrived to find three onlookers surrounding a body. Down on one knee he picked up the hand of the woman in the white tank top. He felt the pulse of her lifeless wrist and realized it was over for the victim. Blood was flowing from the center of her chest, flooding both the clothing and her open skin. Graham tenderly reached up and closed the eyes of Katarina Louchakova.
Leona stood among the onlookers. Graham rose to his feet and placed his arms around Leona. “Is it Katya?” she asked.
“Yes. I am afraid it is. She’s dead. No hope. Two maybe three bullets in her chest. I’m so sorry, Lee.”
Lee placed her head on Graham’s chest, but only momentarily. Within the cacophony of voices Leona could hear some exclaiming that the police had been called and now on the way. Leona looked out toward the harbor and could see the police boat racing toward the pier. She grabbed Graham by the hand and pulled him away from the hub bub toward the hotel and the shore line.
“This is awful, Graham. Just awful,” she whined. They hugged again.
“Now, Graham, are you clear on my instructions?”
Graham looked surprised. He paused. “Yes, of course.”
“You’re on your own until I see you at the speed boat in the middle of tomorrow night.”
“What the fuck?!”
Leona kissed him sweetly but briefly. She turned quickly and took a run toward the water. She sprang with outstretched arms that came together in prayer just before slicing the water’s surface. With hardly a splash she disappeared from Graham’s sight. He thought he saw her head surface a hundred feet further out; but then she disappeared again into the night.
Chapter 78
Croatia
It was 1:30am. Although the moon was again bright, the narrow streets and allies of Šibenik were relatively dark. All was quiet. Leona stood silently on top of the bell tower of St. Lawrence’s Monastery. She surveyed the buildings below her while she raised a wet finger to feel the speed of the air currents. Like a swimmer diving, she threw herself off the bell tower into the surrounding empty space.
After a ten foot plunge, the wings of her wingsuit took hold and she began to sail. She swirled. She kept her eyes on her target. After another descending pirouette she readied herself for landing. Most roofs were steep and covered with round tiles. Leona’s target was a flat roof patio with laundry drying on a clothes line atop a two plus story green row house. She landed with less noise than a rabbit pawing straw.
She divested herself of the wingsuit and felt for her Kimber Mach II and her rope. The Kimber was holstered on her right side, while a coiled wire hung from her left. She walked to the balcony’s edge and looked down. Parked in the ally below was a Vespa. Could that be Graham’s Vespa? I guess I’m betting human lives that it is.
Chapter 79
Croatia
Leona crept through the entrance door and down a half flight of stairs to the second story landing. The dormer room was filled with sleepers, three close by and one over against the far wall. After pausing to adjust her eyes to the dim light, she believed she could see that the sleeper at the far wall was Cupid. Those on the near side must be the hostage holders. Deftly she made her way between the beds to the far side of the room. Leaning down she put her mouth to Cupid’s ear.
“Don’t make a sound, Cupid,” she whispered.
Cupid awoke but could not help a breathy, “Pastor Lee!” The child clasped her arms around Leona’s neck, and cheek rubbed cheek.
“Shhh,” whispered the pastor. But Cupid did not let go of the desperate hug. Nearly a minute passed. Leona’s mind was working. Should I try to sneak out noiselessly? Or, should I wake everyone and…and…and…then what? No one seemed to be disturbed.
The rescuer’s hands directed Cupid to turn her legs to the bed’s side and stand up. No sound was made. Fragments of moon light shown through the front window, but only shadows could be seen by anyone within the room who might be looking.
Leona sought for and found a secure place to tie the rope, the elbow of a water pipe. She knotted her metal reinforced twine. At the other end she formed a harness and directed Cupid to step into it. Through the open front window she slowly lowered the little girl, having instructed her to wait on the road below. Once Cupid was safe at the bottom, Leona threw the rest of the rope out and then began her own repel descent. Her foot slammed against the building wall loud enough for one of the sleepers to ask the others, “What was that?” In seconds the three Mongolian thugs realized their captive was missing and darted to the open window. They could hear the motorcycle engine turn over and saw Cupid holding on to a strange Vespa driver whizzing across the church square. They screamed for reinforcements and dialed their cell phones to sound the alert.
“Hold on tightly,” Leona told her rider. Cupid’s hands clasped each other just below the driver’s windpipe. The Vespa buzzed and whined through the narrow streets, down two step stairs and on occasion full stair cases. Sharp corners caused slowing, then speeding. By the time they turned on to Obala Franje Tudmana, two pursuers in a Renault were following them. The passenger reached through the window and fired two wild shots at the racing cycle.
The cycle’s pilot pressed forward with her eyes set on the pier and the moored boats. To her right Leona thought she could make out the parked hydroplane. It was puttering just off the end of the Šibenik pier. She turned the Vespa sharply to the right, providing a better target for the pursuing Renault. Even so, the bullets missed the two escapees. Leona accelerated. The Renault turned to follow. Now both vehicles were on the pier, heading straight for the open water. Leona continued to accelerate. Soon the Vespa was airborne. Off the end of the pier it flew. The Renault screeched to a halt.
With the splash Graham knew exactly where to find the cyclists. Without turning on lights, the hydroplane drifted close enough for Graham to throw a donut life preserver. Leona was swimming toward the boat, paddling with her left arm while her right held Cupid’s chin with her nose well above water. In moments both were in the boat.
“Give it all you’ve got!” Graham told the pilot. Within seconds the roar of the engines and the new wake signaled that they had begun their trip to the south at nearly sixty miles per hour.
Chapter 80
Croatia
Leona and Cupid held hands at the Split International Airport. Graham carried two light suitcases, ready for checking.
“Grammy will take you to Chicago and back to see your mommy, Cupid. Your mommy will be so glad to have you home! Get ready for tons and tons of hugs,” promised Leona.
“I want you to come home too, Pastor Lee,” pined Cupid.
“Grammy will take good care of you. I’m going to Europe. But, I’ll be back home before you go to school.” The two hugged.
“Cupid asks the right question, Lee. Why the hell aren’t you coming home with us?”
“For the sake of Brostock, Grammy!”
“I’m sorry. There is no place called Brostock! Only Rostock. Rostock is on the Baltic Sea. Get your cities right!”
“Okay, then. For the sake of Rostock!”
Before the conversation could continue, it was the turn for Cupid’s retinue to check in.
“How did you know, Lee?” asked Graham while en route to the security line.
“Katya was an old friend I made in my CIA days. She was a Russian Mafia informant. Double agent, so to speak. As it turns out, her older sister is Olga Louchakova, the computer hacker in the TaiCom Syndicate. Olga and Geraldine Bourne, the Canadian neurosurgeon, made a deal through Katya to place their so-called clinic in Prvićć Luka. The Mafia would insure privacy and conduct pa
tient traffic in and out. Even though Katya wanted to protect her sister, she was willing to work with me on a plan to extricate Cupid.”
“Why would anybody want to bring Cupid here?”
“I think a TaiCom rogue wanted to get proof of concept on making children more intelligent. Once such a chip were to be patented, just think of the number of parents who could be hoodwinked into purchasing the implantation device. They’d take out second mortgages just to advance their kid. The sales would be enormous, worldwide. I think we are seeing a race to patent going on here. Whoever is behind this plot probably thought the Russian Mafia could strong-arm the clinic to rush the clinical trials. Most likely, Cupid would have been a guinea pig.”
“But why Cupid? You can get a kid from anywhere.”
“Because of me. I think the kidnapping might’ve been done to spite me,” said Leona pondering.
“All this points to Khalid Neshat, Lee. Your boyfriend is a bad boy.”
Chapter 81
Chicago
Graham looked intently at his computer screen. He knew this email had come from Leona.
Dear G:
Still need to stay out of sight.
Next rendezvous: Heidelberg on the 24th.
At 10:00am purchase two coffees at a Conditeri near Marktplatz. I would like a vanilla snow ball; this is a round baked cookie called a Schneeball. You’ll find chairs and tables surrounding the fountain. Sit. Sip your coffee and read a copy of the Frankfurter Allgemeinezeitung. I’ll contact you.
If it rains, I’ll meet you inside the Heiliege Geist Kirche.
Miss you.
L
