I used the TOR browser to navigate to the Deep Web and left a note for Tark on the Board. I passed the time by drinking an entire kettle of tea and eating half a box of gingerbread snaps. It took Tark almost two hours to ping me with an invite to join him in a private room.
Tark: You should be locked up or dead.
Sei: Funny. I envisioned a similar fate for you, minus the bit about being locked up.
Tark: What do you want besides to make empty threats?
Sei: The Wolf is safely out of Turkey. Where’s my payment?
Tark: You can’t be serious?
Sei: Oh, but I am. Is the Wolf not alive and out of the country? Were those not the specifications you demanded in order for the contract to be fulfilled?
Tark didn’t expect that I would come calling for payment. Neither had I, but while waiting for him to contact me, I realized the contract had actually been fulfilled, and therefore, I was due what he had promised—the whereabouts of my daughter.
Tark: Sorry, but that won’t be happening.
Sei: You do realize there is only one outcome for non-payment.
Tark: I do, but you’ll never find me. And anyway what makes you so sure that I’m an easy target? Have you ever considered that the tables might be turned, that I am no match for you?
Sei: I don’t have a time limit on finding you. Consider that a done deal. And when I do find you, death will not be quick. It will not be painless. And it certainly will not be with mercy. I will extract the information I need from you. Be sure of that.
Tark: I admire your confidence. Sadly, it’s a wasted effort. Yes, your daughter is alive. That wasn’t a lie, but you should forget about her. You’ll never find her. I’m not even sure she’s still breathing, actually. She was when we first spoke, but things have a way of quickly taking a turn for the worse. You, of all people, should know that. Ha, ha.
My left leg bounced relentlessly as a fiery rage grew hot under my skin. Tark had repeatedly pushed the same button. He seemed to be enjoying himself, as if this were all a game to him. There was no question in my mind that I would find him, he would give me the information I needed, and then I would kill him.
I didn’t derive this confidence from my unique skill set or from my stubborn tenacity. No, it had nothing to do with the obvious. I was confident because I had finally concluded who Tark really was.
66
Lajos Sadik stood in front of the mirror that hung on the wall of his office and took his time adjusting the beret on top of his bald head. It was his official first day on the job as the new warden of Diyarbakir Prison, and he, of course, wanted to impart the right impression on his men. He brushed his mustache with a tiny comb, cleaned his nostrils with tissue, and spit-groomed his eyebrows into place before doing an about-face and exiting his office.
He walked calmly down a semi-lit hall. The scraping of his heels against the concrete floor echoed throughout the corridor of Building D, the one reserved for special guests. That’s where the Wolf and the assassin Sei had been jailed previously, before making their daring escapes, not only out of what the Turkish government claimed to be an inescapable prison, but out of the country as well.
News of that never made it to the media, and only those who absolutely had to know were made aware. It was an embarrassment that was easily contained, which minimized the political fallout for many in the government. Large amounts of money had to be paid to the Russians in exchange for their cooperation in keeping this debacle a private manner. The Turkish government promised they would not stop looking for the Wolf. The Russians knew their efforts would be minimal, at best, but the hush money was a large enough sum to appease them. Sadik had assured the men who championed him as the replacement for the disgraced Demir that he would restore the prison’s reputation.
Sadik stopped in front of the closed steel door and straightened his uniform once more. His first official duty was to welcome Diyarbakir’s most recent prisoner, one special enough to be housed in Building D. The heavy door squealed as Sadik pushed it opened, revealing a room occupied by four guards and a prisoner.
“Sir, it’s good you could be here for this,” said one of the guards.
On his hands and knees was a man, bloodied and beaten. His head hung low, and his breathing was hoarse.
“What is wrong with him?” Sadik asked.
“Bruised ribs,” the same guard replied. He then reached down and grabbed the prisoner by his hair and yanked his head up, revealing his battered and puffy face. Even so, Sadik easily recognized Demir. It was the first time he had laid eyes on the man since his arrest earlier in the week. While Demir wasn’t guilty of aiding the escapees, he was ultimately responsible. All might have been forgiven had he captured Sei and the Black Wolf. Technically, Demir wasn’t a prisoner at Diyarbakir. His file simply stated he had been relieved of his current duties but was to retain his assignment at the prison with the new warden determining and outlining the description of his new position. A generous amount of leeway had been given.
Demir’s incompetence sickened Sadik, and he had promised himself right then and there he would do his best to keep him alive so Demir could live in hell for a long, long time.
Sadik took a few steps forward and motioned for his men to ready Demir. They lifted him and dragged him by his arms to the large container filled with sewage fresh from the pipes of the prison. And on Sadik’s count, he and his men proudly shouted in unison Demir’s claim to fame, “Welcome to Diyarbakir Prison!”
67
The following day, I woke to the sun peeking through my curtains and birds chirping outside my window. I dragged myself out of bed and put a kettle on the stove before hopping into the shower.
With a pot of tea and the remaining box of gingersnaps, I settled into my office and sifted through the most recent contracts posted to the Board. Some held promise, but there was only so much of me to go around. It would be impossible to accept them all. I had to prioritize in the order of ones that held the greatest chance in leading me to my daughter. I certainly wasn’t returning to this profession because the world demanded I do so.
By the time I read and responded to the contracts, it was half past noon. I didn’t have much of an appetite. Instead I felt caged and thought a run through the forest would refresh my mood. I changed into my running gear, strapped a knife to my hip, and headed out.
That day, the air in the forest was dry and crisp as usual, and even though the sun shone above, the tree coverage always kept the temperature a few degrees cooler in the wooded areas. Soon winter would take hold and blanket the ground with snow, which always made for a beautiful, yet challenging run.
The forest was mostly empty of tourists that time of the year, except for the occasional hunting party. I rarely passed people and usually avoided contact when I did.
I had been running for forty-five minutes. My adrenaline flowed, and strong rhythmic beats reverberated in my chest, while my breathing was heightened but not strained. Even with time away from my daily training, my body managed to stay well conditioned. The run, thus far, had been therapeutic and not tiresome in the least.
I ran along a route I almost never took, but that day, I wanted to ensure I wouldn’t run into any hikers or hunters. The trail I followed led me to a very secluded area of the forest, where only animals left their prints. I had been in this area twice before for a very specific reason. It was my out—the place I would head should I ever find myself being followed in the forest, like I was that day.
I got wind of the person tracking me about twenty minutes into my run and changed course immediately. Only a person following me would keep up with my pace and nonsensical directional changes. With that said, I wasn’t worried about the tail I had acquired, for I knew who it was.
I stopped to tie my shoelace. It didn’t need to be, but we were deep enough in the woods.
“When did you spot me?” Long asked as he appeared from behind a tree. He kept his distance from me, roughly fifteen feet. H
e wore a black tracksuit with a matching beanie and had a knife hanging from his side—no handgun. “About ten minutes after I left the cottage.” I stood up and brushed my hands.
“You’re rusty.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I arrived two days ago.”
I stopped brushing. Somehow I had missed his presence at the cottage. “Is that so…Tark?”
Even with all signs indicating Long was Tark, or at least the man behind him, I still had a hard time believing. But the signs painted a compelling picture: His ability to find me in the first place led me to believe he had found me earlier. The doctor’s claim that Tark had entered his apartment undetected, probably the same way I had. And that Tark had a similar speech impediment that plagued Long since he was a little boy. It was all too coincidental.
“Yes, I was Tark in the flesh, but not during our first online encounter, obviously because I was with you when you made contact with him.” Long took a few steps to the side. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually. You’re too smart.”
Hearing Long admit his guilt filled my insides with emptiness. The one person I thought I could always trust with my life had turned on me. We were inseparable when we were young. We shared our deepest secrets, dreamed big together, and vowed to protect one another until death. We were as close as a brother and sister could be, and yet there we were, at a crossroads. How could someone I loved and cared so much about have such a black heart? “Why, Long?”
“The short answer: I didn’t think you would escape prison. I misjudged Demir and his level of incompetence. If that idiot had done his part, we would not be standing here right now.”
“And the long answer?”
“You should already know it.”
I had a hunch, but I wanted Long to provide the answer and hear the words of betrayal leave his mouth.
“You killed Ma. And don’t you dare try to deny it.”
“That’s what this is all about?” I asked, shifting my weight to one leg while resting my hands on my hips. I knew Long had always held her in high regard, especially since she rescued us from the orphanage. I had no idea he would try and kill me over her death.
“Don’t trivialize it. She was the figurehead of our clan. She gave us a future and raised us as her own. She was the mother we never had!”
“She used us for her own psychopathic needs. You, of all people, should realize that. She took in orphans like us so she could turn us into loyal fighting machines. We were disposable.”
“Our brothers and sisters who died did so in loyal service. We all knew the risks.”
“But none of us chose this life. It was forced upon us.”
“You simply don’t get it do you? She was family. How could you?”
Long rushed toward me, closing the distance in seconds. His fist missed my face by inches as I stepped to the side and followed with open-palm blow to the back of his neck that sent him tumbling along the forest floor.
“You have that much hatred for me?” I shouted as I took a few steps away from him.
Long got back to his feet. His fists were clenched. “You have no idea.” He sprang forward with a series of punches.
I blocked each one and countered with a straight-arm punch that snapped his head back. A forward kick to his chest followed, backing him away from me.
Long fought to regain the breath I had knocked out of him.
“So you conjured up a plan to get back at me by kidnapping my daughter and then had me take the fall for the Wolf’s escape?” I continued. “Why not just come after me if you hated me so much? Seems a faster and much more efficient way of enacting revenge, doesn’t it?”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Long said as we moved slowly in a circle, anticipating the other’s next move. “My original intention was to take something from you, something that would destroy you internally, emotionally. Just like you did to me. What would be better than to deny you of motherhood?” His mouth widened into a grin.
“Where is she?”
Long laughed. “Unfortunately, I have no idea.”
“What are you talking about? You took her.”
“You’ll have to ask the Wolf.”
“Why would he have her? I did nothing to him.”
“You’re right, but I had a debt to repay.”
Long told me he had killed one of the Wolf’s men in a bar fight. The penalty for doing so was two hundred thousand dollars, which he refused to pay. This prompted the Wolf to put a contract on his head. When Long heard the Turkish army had captured the Wolf, he said he saw an opportunity to not only repay his debt, but to gain entrance to the Wolf’s inner circle.
“So you approached him with a plan that would get him out of prison?”
“We figured it out jointly.”
“Really? I spent time in that place. I highly doubt he could pick up a phone and chat with you.”
“I posed as a diplomat from China, there to discuss extradition. I met with the Wolf more than once and convinced him that if he wanted to escape, he would have to trust me and hire you.”
“Why would he trust the man he had put a contract out on?”
“At first, he didn’t believe anything I said, but when I told him about your daughter, he changed his mind, although he didn’t think you could get him out on your own. It was his brilliant idea to use you as a decoy and have you take the fall.”
No sooner had those words left his mouth than he lurched forward, striking with both fists. The first one grazed the side of my chin, the second one missed. He wasn’t able throw a third because I caught him square in the face with an open palm. Long shook it off and removed his knife, as did I; our talk had come to an end.
We exchanged swipes. The ting of metal against metal rang out as we blocked the other’s strike. We moved in a circle, each looking for the opening needed to end it. Long found one. His blade cut deep above my left hip. He nearly finished me, but I jumped backward, avoiding a kill strike.
“So you’re not invincible,” Long said between heavy breaths before attacking again.
I allowed him to back me up until the smooth trunk of a birch tree appeared just to the left of us. I stepped right, then left, and leapt up, pushing off of the tree trunk and cartwheeling in the air. I passed directly over Long. He looked up, followed my path and exposed his neck in the process.
I landed on the other side of Long, spinning around quickly to face him. He had his left hand wrapped around his neck, and his right hand still gripped his blade. A river of red streamed through his fingers, coating his hand and wrist. He moved for another attack, but I easily avoided it with a sidestep. He made repeated attempts, each with a wild swipe of his knife, until his knees buckled.
He fell to his side, his eyes never leaving me. Birds sang in the treetops as I watched Long gasp his final breath. Even with all he had done to me, I still felt sad that it had come to this. I should have been spitting venom for what he had done. Instead, I felt pity. I imagined Long had lived a life wrought with envy and self-doubt. Sadly, what he hadn’t realized was that he had comparable skills. Our capabilities were more or less on par. But there was one thing Long lacked that I had in abundance: confidence. Belief is what held him back. And in the end, it finished him. I could only wonder if it was really Ma’s death that drove him to turn on me, or jealousy.
68
Jak Berisha hadn’t forgotten about the assassin who showed up to his bar and slit the throat of his brother and other members of his organization. Not a single day went by that he didn’t think of flaying the skin from her body for what she had done. Berisha wasn’t the sort of man who forgot. Revenge ran thick in his blood. There would be no peace until he had it.
It didn’t take Berisha’s men very long to track down the taxi Sei had taken and the location she had been taken to: a lone cottage on the outskirts of Saint-Hubert.
Berisha gave his men detailed orders not to approach the home. She was deadly. He had no desire to l
ose any more men.
Amiti was ordered to make periodic checks on the single-lane dirt road that led to the cottage. Weeks had gone by without a single sighting of Sei, but Berisha remained patient. He knew eventually she would show. And she did.
“Are you sure she’s home?” Berisha asked as he glanced at his watch. It was a little after two in the morning when he, Amiti, and seven other men from his gang arrived at the entrance to the narrow dirt road leading to Sei’s cottage. It was cool with scattered clouds that dulled the intensity of the moonlight. They were all dressed in black, wore three-hole balaclavas, and carried assault rifles.
“I used a long-lens camera and saw her through the windows. No way she spotted me. I was one hundred yards out and well hidden in the forest.”
Berisha rechecked his AK-47, making sure the magazine was fully loaded and locked into place. “Shoot but don’t kill. I want her alive if possible,” Berisha said to his men as they quietly advanced on the cottage.
As they neared the property, Berisha motioned to three of his men to make their way to the rear of the cottage. He and the rest of the crew positioned themselves to cover the front of the house, about twenty-five yards out. The plan was to force her into the opening where she would be most vulnerable, and that would be possible with the help of Amiti’s newly acquired toy: a 40mm tear gas launcher.
Amiti positioned himself directly in front of a large window and took aim. He had six canisters and intended to fire every single one of them.
The first cartridge shattered the framed window with relative ease. Smoke poured from it as it bounced off a wall and rolled along the floor. Amiti quickly fired the remaining five into other windows before retreating to where Berisha and the other men stood.
“She should be choking,” Amiti said as he traded the grenade launcher for an AK-47. The four of them waited with rifles aimed at the front door. Clouds of tear gas continued to fill the small cottage, but there was no sign of movement. Berisha called out to his men behind the cabin, and they said they hadn’t seen her either. “We’re going inside,” he shouted.
[Anthology] Abby & Sei Thriller Starter Page 41
