Chapter 45
Jana was in a deep sleep, dreaming that a group of ferocious bears with huge claws and giant teeth were chasing her across an ice-covered lake where there was no place to hide, when the persistent banging on her bedroom window woke her up. She slipped her gun from under her pillow, went to the window, and tried to awaken fully before she slid the drape aside. When she did, Trokan’s face popped into view. Jana opened the window.
“You sleep like a dead woman,” he said. “I’ve been trying to rouse you for five minutes.”
Snow fell around Trokan. His cap was already covered, and the wind kicked up flurries. Although he was in full winter uniform, he had to slap himself to keep warm.
“What are you doing out there?”
“Attempting to get a Slovak commander of police to do her job. So if the sleeping princess would get dressed and meet me outside, ready for duty, I would appreciate it. Wear your uniform.”
He stepped away from the window and out of Jana’s vision. She brushed her teeth, tried in vain to fix her hair, hurriedly dressed in the warmest clothes she could fit under her uniform, and was out the door and inside Trokan’s car within minutes. The driving snowflakes obscured the windshield even though the wipers were going at top speed.
“Asking me to come out on a night like this is beyond the call of duty. Why didn’t you just telephone?”
“The last I heard, your phones were being tapped. I have to be sure that our activities aren’t monitored.”
“They took out the bugs while I was in Vienna.”
“Good for them. Please tell me, then, why is the bug in my office still active?”
“I would say that there are a lot of people who want to know what we’re doing.”
“Which is why I came to your house rather than telephoning you. Who knows where the listening devices are?” He rapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand in anger. “How do you figure out who is on which side these days? The police are the ones who are supposed to be doing the eavesdropping. They’re not meant to be the objects of surveillance. This is crazy-making.”
“Even crazier when my colonel comes to pick me up in the middle of the night in a snowstorm, then doesn’t tell me why or where we’re going.”
“We’re going to the hospital to interview the American you shot.”
Jana eyed Trokan cautiously. “Colonel Trokan, I was in your office when you learned that the American had died.”
Trokan broke into a sly smile. “I set up that call. Whoever’s listening thinks the thug is dead. If he’s dead, he can’t talk. Therefore, they have no reason to kill him. Hence, Trokan and Matinova will have some quiet time with the gentleman who tried to end your career. If they are bold enough to infiltrate our office, get into our jail and help a prisoner escape, and also to try to kill a commander of police in broad daylight, then they would think nothing of eliminating this man.” He kissed the back of his hand in mock appreciation of himself. “Oh, Trokan, you sly devil. When you’re gone, will there ever be anyone else like you?”
He reached into the back seat, grabbed a folder, and dropped it in Jana’s lap.
“Courtesy of the USA’s marvelous system of record-keeping.”
Jana began going through the papers in the file as Trokan chattered on.
“They identified him through their tattoo database. Can you believe they have voluminous records of people’s tattoos? He turns out to be a longtime criminal. The usual: a swamp creature, predisposed to violence, involved in organized crime. His only conviction was for passing counterfeit money which had been printed in Korea. The Korean counterfeits show that he has some international connection.”
“If the money was printed in Korea, they would need a means to smuggle the money into other countries.”
“You think this ring is smuggling counterfeit money into countries around the world?”
“Maybe. The packages were described as of various sizes, which might mean differing amounts in each shipment, or else different goods. I think we must ask the patient what’s inside those packages. You asked me to wear my uniform. Do you have a strategy in mind?”
“It’s a biological necessity for every officer who has reached my exalted position in the police to be sneaky, underhanded, cunning, and devious. I’ve been thinking about this all day, which means it will be extremely underhanded. The man you shot never went past elementary school. All he knows is what he’s learned on television in the United States. This means, to him, it will be credible that in places like Slovakia we routinely execute people.”
“He thinks we may kill him, so we play on his survival instinct?”
“Correct.”
“Am I the good police officer or the bad one? It’s always a challenge to be the good one.”
“I don’t speak English well enough to be the good police officer. There’s another factor: when a woman is sympathetic, they think it’s sincere. No one ever trusts men.”
“I wonder why.”
Jana reviewed the folder, which contained the man’s history. He had spent his entire life preying on the weak and innocent. If there was a heaven and a hell, when he died he would go directly to hell. There’d be no mourning; there’d be no tears. Everyone would breathe easier. He was the type of man who would be sent to kidnap her granddaughter. And if they didn’t like Jana’s reaction to the kidnapping, he would be one of those delegated to kill the little girl, and he’d do it without hesitation.
Jana’s anger at the man grew as they got closer. He was an abomination on the earth. If they tried to play good cop/bad cop, he would see right through their ploy. Any threat to him had to be real. Jana had to convey that she was prepared to act. And then she had to act.
It took nearly the rest of the journey to the hospital for Jana to convince Trokan that his plan wouldn’t work. When she had finally convinced him, she called ahead, giving one of the officers stationed at the hospital detailed instructions. As they walked toward the hospital room, the two waiting uniformed officers saluted. There was an empty wheelchair next to them.
“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Trokan asked.
“I’m sure. It will be the only thing he’ll respond to.”
“It can go very wrong. Be careful, Janka.”
“Sometimes more than care is needed.”
Jana entered the room by herself. Trokan stayed outside to instruct the officers on exactly what was expected of them.
The man lay in bed, shackled to the metal frame. He eyed Jana as she checked his chart. Her shot had caught him in the collarbone, breaking it; ricocheted down, miraculously missing the lung; and broken a rib. Fortunately for him, the bullet had remained intact. It had been easily extracted.
The man’s eyes followed her. The anesthetic from the operation had worn off. He was aware of where he was and certainly aware that Jana was a police officer.
She sat in a chair near the head of the bed.
“You’re very lucky,” she told the man in English. “The bullet should have killed you.” Jana had brought a folder with her. She consulted it, then asked, “Your name is Adonis?”
“Whatever you want to call me.”
“And you have nothing to say?”
“Not a thing.”
“You’re sure?”
He didn’t answer.
“If you have nothing to say to me, then there’s no reason to keep you alive.”
Jana looked the man over. “Adonis, I need to get some information from you so we know what to do . . . after this is over. Your next of kin? We generally cremate.” She pulled out her notebook. “I don’t need much. We know almost everything else about you.”
“Whoever shot me got the wrong man.”
“Then why did you have a gun? And why did you fire?”
“Who said I fired a gun?”
“I did. I was a witness.”
Adonis looked at her more closely but still did not recognize her.
“You’re a bad
shot,” Jana said. “You failed. There is no room for failure in your job. All sides want to kill you now.”
“I don’t know anything about ‘sides.’”
“There’s only a short time before you’re executed. We would like to know where we should send the remains. Of course, I’d also like to know details surrounding the attempt to kill me.”
He laughed. “Next you tell me I’m going to be taken down to the cellar, tied to a chair, and shot once in the back of the head. Piss off.”
Jana smiled without humor.
“In this country, when a police officer is shot at, there is always retribution.”
The man stared at her, not quite comprehending.
“I’ve been delegated to kill you. You’re looking in the face of death. My face. I assure you, you’ll soon be dead.”
The man stared at her, unblinking, expressionless.
“My name is Jana Matinova. You tried to murder me.”
Jana could see his reaction. Adonis’s expression changed: he realized he was alone in a room with the woman he’d tried to kill.
“I talked to my granddaughter yesterday. You, or your people, tried to abduct her. I cannot ever allow that to happen again. A message has to be sent. Payment has to be exacted.”
The man pressed himself back against his pillow, trying to get away from her.
“I sentenced you to death as soon as I heard you had survived.”
“I’m gonna just lie here,” Adonis said. “I’m not gonna say a word.”
Jana sat and watched him.
“There’s no reason for you to stay,” he muttered. “Get the fuck away from me. I’m not looking at you any longer, bitch.” He turned his face away. As soon as he did so, Jana knocked on the door to the room. The door opened, and the two police officers rolled the wheelchair in. They walked over to Adonis and one of them pulled the I.V. line from his arm. Adonis let out a yelp of surprise and pain.
“What the hell are you guys doing? Get the fuck away from me!”
They unfastened the shackles, dragged the man from the bed, and dropped him into the wheelchair.
His cast impeded his movements as Adonis struggled. One of the officers held him down while the other took a roll of heavy duct tape and wrapped it around him, strapping his arms and legs to the chair while he cursed them, trying to break away.
When the officers were through, they looked at Jana. She took the roll of tape from them and faced the man in the wheelchair.
“I’m a patient in a hospital,” he said, as if that would dissuade her.
“And I’m an executioner. This is your last chance to tell me what I need to know.”
“Fuck you,” Adonis said, and Jana taped his mouth shut. She nodded to the two officers, who wheeled Adonis, still struggling, out of the room. Jana followed them. Outside, Trokan looked worried.
“You still want to carry on, Jana?”
“No question, Colonel.”
Trokan waited as she and her men took the prisoner to the elevator and descended to the basement, then walked to the end of a long, water-stained cement corridor, stopping when they reached a large rusted metal door. One of them unlocked the door; the other wheeled Adonis into the room. Jana took a last glance down the corridor to make sure no one was following, then stepped into the huge, empty, darkened room. The police officers walked out, closing the iron door behind them with a loud clang.
The man in the wheelchair was beginning to sweat. It was time to ratchet up the pressure even more. Jana ripped the tape from Adonis’s mouth.
He tried to spit at her.
Jana smiled, took a step back, and pulled out her gun.
He began screaming. She waited for a few moments, until he had worn down.
“No one can hear you,” she informed him. “They had orders to go back up to the hospital area. They were only too glad to obey. They know what is going to happen. No one wants to witness an execution.” Jana snapped the safety off, then levered a shell into the chamber of her gun, cocking it.
Adonis stared at the gun.
“This is not right,” he got out.
“Why is it not ‘right’?”
“I haven’t had a trial.”
“Of course you did. I was the judge; you were found guilty. Now I’m going to kill you.” He began to shake. “You can still stop me. All you have to do is answer my questions.” She paused. “However, I would urge you to keep silent.”
He gaped at her, not quite understanding.
“I want to kill you. If you don’t talk, I’m empowered to put a bullet in you. I would like nothing better. So, what do you want me to do, kill you or not?”
He continued to stare at her.
“Not convinced?”
She walked around behind him.
“What . . . the fuck . . . are you doing?” he stammered out.
“Taking aim. I’m not going to put a bullet in your head with the first shot. For what you people almost did to my granddaughter, you’ve earned a slow death.” She hesitated, then considered the words she’d just spoken. It was for the sake of her grandchild’s future. She fired. The bullet struck the muscle near the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
He screamed. “I’m shot! Jesus, you shot me!”
“Of course I shot you. I told you I would.” Jana stepped closer to view the wound.
“Bullets do terrible damage. If I were to remove the tape now, you wouldn’t be able to use your right arm.” She prodded his shoulder with the gun barrel. He groaned. “Ah, it hurts. Good. Pain teaches us. The next one will be on your other side. Then, a bullet to the head.”
“For god’s sake, don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”
She took a few steps back and recocked the gun. The click of the hammer sounded very loud.
“Prepare yourself, Adonis.”
The man pleaded with her. He would talk, he blurted out. Anything, if she did not shoot.
Jana let him go on for a moment. Then she uncocked her gun and walked around to confront him.
“A good decision, Adonis.” She looked down at him. They both knew her threat had been genuine.
“You will be arrested for shooting me.” His eyes showed the depth of his malice.
Jana shook her head. “I think not. I shot you, from behind, when you tried to escape from custody. That’s always a good story, isn’t it? My boss will accept that. So will yours . . . maybe.”
Jana put her gun back in its holster. She wouldn’t need it any more.
She felt a tinge of regret for what she’d done. Then she pictured her grandchild, having fun, no fear in her mind, no terror in her heart. That regret was short-lived.
Chapter 46
Eva and Soros were watching Kamin’s house when they saw Jana drive up. It was hard to miss her, still in full uniform, as she walked to the gate with assurance.
Eva was disappointed. “There have been murders in her city, she’s been the target of an assassination attempt, and she still walks around as if she’s the lord of all she surveys.”
Soros disagreed, but only slightly. “She’s required to look confident. She’s a commanding officer. They’re never supposed to show fear. It would send a bad message to the troops.”
“It’ll destroy her one day. Maybe today.”
“Maybe today,” Soros agreed. “If she gives us the opportunity.”
They watched Jana pick the lock on the gate. It came off within seconds.
“She’s very good at that.”
“Professional,” Soros commented.
“She’s going to go inside the house.”
“No question.”
The man they were waiting to “see” was inside the house.
“She doesn’t know he’s inside.”
They looked toward the house. The shutters on the lower windows were all closed. The lawn and bushes were still in reasonable trim, although the yard was unkempt, a few stray pieces of paper lying on it, some leaves blown under a hedge. Jana had en
tered the yard and was now circling the house. She was on the alert, ready for a surprise if it came.
This time Eva’s comment carried a tone of approval. “She knows the untended appearance of the yard may not be real.”
“We know that she’s resourceful after what happened yesterday at the market.”
“They’re right to want her dead.”
“Soon,” he assured her.
“What will happen inside?”
“It depends on him.”
“You can’t rely on him to do it.”
“Look at her. She’s not sure if the house is occupied. That’s bad. It may give him an edge.”
“It may make her more alert.”
“He’ll know she’s coming in.”
“Yes.”
“It depends on who takes the first shot.”
“It should never depend on that, which is a good reason not to get into these situations: too many imponderables.”
Jana returned to the front door. They watched her attempt to make a cell phone call. Her disappointment was apparent. She put the phone away and stared once more at the house.
“She was calling for officers to back her up,” Eva ventured. “She wasn’t able to reach who she wanted.”
Jana walked to the front door, tried it, then resorted to picking this lock as well.
“She should have waited for the other cops.”
“Yes, but she’s courageous. I admire courage.”
“Courage kills people.”
“Much of the time.”
“Whichever one comes out of the house will then become our business.”
“Everyone may be happy after our day’s work.”
“I’ll be happy.”
They watched Jana go inside and settled down to wait for whoever was left alive to emerge.
Chapter 47
Jana put her lockpicks away, pulled out her gun, and shut the door behind her. The house was fully furnished, though there was a light film of dust on the furniture. It confirmed the impression: Kamin had probably left a few days ago. She listened.
Quiet.
She relaxed slightly.
Adonis’s information pointed at Kamin, but according to him there had been a lot of people giving orders; too many of them conflicting. This buttressed her hypothesis that there were two groups. But she could not tell who was on which side. One thing was sure: she had enough now to justify picking up Kamin, an event she had been looking forward to for a long time. So she had come straight from the hospital to the house where she had followed Kamin once before.
Dark Dreams Page 27
