Vertigo

by Wesley Cross

  “As-Salaam-Alaikum,” the man said, looking up at Connelly and flashing a wide smile.

  “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam,” Connelly replied, and added in English, “I’m looking for some traditional spices.”

  “Ah, someone who appreciates quality,” the man said in accented English. “The best spices you’ll find in all Kabul. Turmeric, saffron, cardamom—anything you want. What are you cooking, my friend? Palaw, qormah, or maybe mantu?”

  “No. I wanted to make some Chapli kebab.”

  “With rice, I assume?” The man smiled, as he continued to busy himself.

  “Not with rice. I hear that proper Chapli kebab is always served with naan.”

  “A proper meal, then.” The man smiled again. “Let me give you an address where you can buy some good beef. The beef is as important as the spices you put in.”

  The merchant threw a quick glance around the row of stalls and then disappeared into the back of his kiosk. A few moments later, he returned, holding a small paper bag.

  “Here you go, my friend,” he said, handing the bag to Connelly. “I threw some spices in there for you to try. When you try them, you’ll come back for more.”

  “Thank you,” Connelly said. He threw some banknotes on the table that promptly disappeared in the trader’s hand, and then made his way out of the row.

  “How’s it looking?” Patrick asked when the operatives made their way through the crowd.

  “Got the keys for the van,” Connelly said, looking inside of the bag, “and some instructions.”

  He took out a small handwritten note and read it in silence as they walked.

  “Change of plans,” he finally said, putting the note back into the bag.

  “Oh, Christ. I don’t like this already,” Doug grunted in disapproval. “What’s happening now?”

  “The meeting’s been rescheduled. We’ve got the coordinates for the house where the buyer and the seller are going to be. The brass is also aware of last night’s events, and we’re getting a new weapons cache. That’s the good part.”

  “And the bad?” Doug asked.

  “The house belongs to one of the local mid-level drug lords, so it’ll be heavily guarded—a dozen guards at least. Also, now they want us to grab Malik Zubair as well. While they still want the info on the buyer, the primary objective has changed—we need both of them and alive.”

  “I’d prefer we had more guys, but it sounds doable so far. It’s the grabbing them alive part that might be difficult,” Patrick said, voicing what was on everybody’s mind.

  “Yes,” Connelly said, “but I’m afraid grabbing them alive is imperative. The main objective of our mission is now to locate and retrieve the money that was going to be used for the drug purchase. And since the buyer’s already paid half of it as a deposit, we won’t be able to locate or retrieve all of it unless we have both of them alive, awake, and answering our questions.”

  33

  October 2007

  New York

  “Before my men start working on you, Miss Chen,” the man in a tailored suit said, “I’d like you to know that I take no pleasure in doing this to you. In fact, I’m a gentle person when it comes to people I care about.”

  He walked closer to the table and stopped when he was a foot away from Chen’s head.

  “However,” he continued, “I have a vast empire to protect, and thousands of people depend on me. Do you understand that, Miss Chen?”

  Chen didn’t answer as she watched the person who had her abducted, brought her there against her will, and tied to a table for torture. A small part of her decision not to engage him was pride. The bigger part, however, was the fear that should she open her mouth, the only sound that would come out would be an incoherent wail of terror.

  “I’ll make you a deal, Miss Chen,” the man said and bent over to bring his face next to hers. His breath smelled of mint and cinnamon. “If you talk to my people and answer their questions truthfully, your ordeal will be painful, but quick. But if for a moment you start playing coy, I can promise you this will feel like an eternity.”

  “What do you want from me, you crazy fuck?” Chen screamed, as for a moment, the anger overwhelmed her fear. She spat in Victor Ye’s face. “I can promise you one thing. I will make it my life’s mission to destroy everything you own, you hear me?”

  “You are too smart for your own good, Miss Chen,” Victor Ye said, straightening up and wiping his face with a pocket square, “and that will be a short mission indeed, though you will not feel it that way.”

  The door into the room burst open, and a short man ran in, breathing hard, his shoulders heaving up and down with every raspy breath. He stopped a few feet away from them and bent in a deep bow in front of Victor Ye.

  “What is it?” Victor snapped at the newcomer.

  The man shuffled closer and whispered something into Victor’s ear and then stepped away again, bowing as he went.

  “I’m afraid I have to leave you, Miss Chen,” Victor said, “but don’t despair. Someone will be here shortly, and they’ll keep you company.”

  He turned around and briskly walked out of the room, his entourage in tow. As the door slammed, the lights switched off again, plunging the place in total darkness.

  Chen tried to shift, desperately looking for a more comfortable position, but it was no use. Her shoulders and hips were hot and sore, and the muscles on her back and buttocks were starting to get numb. She was cold now too. The strain her body was under was making her sweat profusely, and as the liquid evaporated off her bare skin, it took away the precious warmth. Shivers ran down the entire length of her body.

  She tried to bend her wrists as much as she could, feeling with her fingers for the restraints, but her fingertips only scraped on the edge of the cuffs, too far from the locks. Desperation started to settle in again, its dark tentacles reaching into the farthest corners of Chen’s mind. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, torn between wanting the darkness to end and dreading what the arrival of any visitor would mean.

  The door squeaked, and the room exploded in harsh light, blinding her. Chen thrashed in her restraints, certain that the torturers were finally here, ready to deliver on Victor Ye’s terrible promise. A raspy wail started to build in her throat.

  “Shh,” somebody said, and a soft palm covered her mouth, smothering her scream. “Please don’t make any noise, I’m begging you.”

  As Chen’s eyes focused, getting used to the bright light, the familiar face came into view. The mixture of anxiety and relief washed over her as she looked at her ex-boyfriend’s features distorted by the colorful bruise covering half of his face.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said, walking around the table, undoing her restraints. He favored one side as he moved and took extra care not to bump into anything.

  “Are you okay?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Only you’re capable of this.” He gave a soft chuckle. “You’d think they tied me to a table and got me ready to be tortured. My father thought I needed a lesson, that’s all.”

  He finished untying the restraints and helped Chen off the table.

  “Here.” He offered her a pile of clothes. “Not sure if they’ll fit you, but it’s better than nothing.”

  She stood there for a few seconds without moving, and then her hand lashed out, striking him across the face.

  “I guess I deserved that,” he said, wincing, and then turned away to spit. A trickle of blood ran down from his nose, and he wiped it with the back of his hand. “I made a terrible mistake, but you have to believe me, I had no idea any of this would happen.”

  “Oh yeah? What did you think was gonna happen after your driver put a hood over my head? You thought he was going to buy me popcorn and show me a movie?”

  “Helen, I’m sorry. The guy you were looking for…” He trailed off. “I thought they were going to rough him up, scare him, you know? And I had no clue they would try to hurt you, I swear.”
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  Chen didn’t answer as she put on a pair of worn-out pants, a sweater, and a pair of old sneakers. A dirty jacket completed her outfit. The clothes were baggy and foreign but it was a welcome change from feeling exposed, and Chen wrapped herself in the jacket, trying to warm up.

  “We have to go,” Vic urged her, pulling her outside of the room and softly closing the door behind them. “I don’t know how much time we have before the guards come back.”

  “We’re not going anywhere yet,” Chen said, pulling away from him and stopping him in his tracks.

  “What?” He looked at her in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? I always thought that the flaying business was a bullshit story meant to scare my father’s rivals, but they actually do it. Do you understand what I’m saying? We’ve got to go.”

  “We’re not going anywhere until we get Hiroko back,” Chen said, standing her ground. “I’m not leaving without her.”

  They looked at each other for a few seconds, and finally, he gave up.

  “Fine,” he said. “Follow me. I think they are holding her in the southern building. C’mon.”

  They jogged through the warehouse, trying to keep the noise to a minimum, and stopped before the door leading outside of the building.

  “Hang on,” Vic said, motioning to Chen to stay behind.

  He cracked the door open and peeked outside for a few seconds.

  “Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”

  He disappeared outside before Chen could say anything. She stood there alone, anxiously listening for any sounds that might indicate her tormentors were coming back. After what seemed like an eternity, Vic’s bruised face appeared in the doorway. He was holding a short piece of metal pipe in his hands. One end of the pipe was sleek with someone’s blood.

  “Here,” he said and handed her a car key. “There’s a Bimmer parked in the back of the parking lot. Let’s grab your friend, and you should get out of here.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, urging her on. “He’s not gonna kill me, but I have to buy you some time.”

  They snuck outside and ran across a small yard to what looked like a carbon copy of the warehouse where Chen had been kept. A crumpled shape of a body was sprawled out next to the door. Vic fumbled with the keys for a few seconds, and then the door opened, letting them in.

  Vic pulled her toward one of the office-like doors and swung it open. As the lights came to life, Chen saw a naked body of a tattooed woman tied to a wooden table, thrashing wildly against her restraints. As the woman’s eyes grew used to the light, she stopped struggling and stared at Chen with disbelief.

  There was a bruise on the woman’s face, and she sported a large scrape across her ribs and abdomen, but otherwise, she seemed to be unharmed.

  “I’ll be right back. Hold on to this,” Vic said, giving her the pipe. “I’ll go get her some clothes.”

  “Hello, girlfriend,” Chen said, as she started to work on Hiroko’s restraints. “Let’s get you out of this wonderful place.”

  34

  October 2007

  New York

  “Are you okay?” Chen asked as she put a wool blanket around the petite woman’s shoulders.

  The two women were hiding in a basement studio apartment in Brooklyn that belonged to one of Hiroko’s friends. After they’d left the warehouse, Chen drove Vic’s BMW to the city. There, they left the car in an underground parking garage and then jumped the turnstile to get into the subway station.

  After surfing the subway for a couple of hours, Chen felt safe enough to let Hiroko take the Q train and lead them all the way to their destination. The townhouse built at the turn of the twentieth century was sitting in a sleepy part of the Kings Highway neighborhood and was only a short walk from the subway station.

  Their host was a short, wiry kid with shifty eyes behind thick glasses, who introduced himself as Eugene in a light Eastern-European accent. Eugene used the semi-finished basement with a foldable sofa and a bathroom in desperate need of an update for visiting relatives and friends. Despite the lack of amenities, however, Chen found their accommodations downright luxurious compared to the house of horrors they’d escaped from.

  “No,” Hiroko said. She shook her head and wrapped herself tightly with the blanket. “I’m most certainly not okay and, to be honest, I’m not even sure how not okay I am right now.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Sorry?” Hiroko interrupted her. “What are you sorry for? We may have broken the law, but sure as shit, we don’t skin people alive.”

  “I know.” Chen put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and held them there. “I’m not okay either, but all I can think of right now is how I can hurt that monster.”

  “All I can think of right now is a nice juicy steak with some French fries and a bottle of ice-cold beer,” Hiroko said. “I might be fucked up, but I’m starving. PTSD’s gonna have to wait.”

  “Geez, girl.” Chen couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t know about steak, but I saw some ramen noodles as I was rummaging through the cupboard. There’s a kettle in the kitchen. Hopefully it’s not broken.”

  “Works for me,” Hiroko said. “But listen—we will need some money. I can borrow some, but that’s not gonna last long. You don’t have any cash, do you?”

  “I had thirty grand on me when I was coming down to meet you,” Chen said as she put the kettle on. “I mean, I have some savings, but I’d need to go back to my house to get my cards and then go to the bank to get the cash.”

  “Forget it,” Hiroko said. “They’ll be watching our places so I wouldn’t risk it. It’s all right, we’ll figure something out about the money. But we’ll need some help too.”

  They sat down at a round wooden table, and Chen poured the boiling liquid into the Styrofoam cups.

  “What kind of help are you talking about?” she asked.

  “We need allies,” Hiroko continued as she held the steaming cup in her hands. “Someone with some serious resources. We can’t take these guys on by ourselves. We can harass them here and there, but it’s only going to get us in more trouble.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” Chen said, “but it’s not like we can assemble a team, right? I know a bunch of people online who I’ve collaborated with over the years and I’m sure you do too. I doubt, though, anyone would jump on the opportunity to take on a criminal enterprise with the penchant of skinning people alive. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

  “Eugene can help some,” Hiroko said, “but we need something bigger than a ragtag team of hackers.”

  “How do you even know this guy? He doesn’t strike me like someone from your circle. He looks shady, if you ask me,” Chen said. “But I guess in our situation, I can’t be too choosy.”

  “Well, he is shady.” Hiroko laughed. “Funny you should say that. I’d met him at the club once, and we had a casual on and off thing going on for some time.”

  “Those pesky Russians,” Chen snorted. “Wow, definitely not the type I pictured you with.”

  “He’s Ukrainian, actually,” Hiroko said, “and hey, a woman has her needs.”

  Chen threw her hands up in surrender as she looked at her friend with amusement.

  “More importantly, though,” Hiroko continued, “he is one of the best code breakers I’ve ever met. Maybe even better than Delgado.”

  “Speaking of,” Chen said, “have you heard from him?”

  “Not since our first meeting, but it’s not like we were close or anything,” Hiroko said, shaking her head. “He was using me as a messenger, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one.”

  “I see.”

  “Eugene…” Hiroko trailed off. “He’s shady, no doubt, but mostly because he doesn’t concern himself with things like the law. Eugene’s weird. Most of the time he just wants to understand how things work. And he hates when the powers that be hide secrets from the rest of us and use them to their ben
efit. Once he hacked one of the biggest electric companies in Canada, because he read an article that made an allegation that they were overcharging their customers for electricity.”

  “An idealist then?”

  “Nah.” Hiroko smiled. “I wouldn’t call him an idealist. Another time he found out a local bank in South Carolina had a vulnerability in their network. It allowed people to wire the money out, circumventing the approval process. So, he went ahead and sent a detailed report to the bank describing how to fix it.”

  “I feel a but coming up,” Chen said.

  “Oh, you got that right,” Hiroko continued. “He also wired out a hundred grand to show them it was for real and, well, let’s just say he forgot to return it.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

  “Speaking of the devil,” Hiroko said as she got up and walked to the door.

  “Girls,” the man said as he entered the apartment with takeout bags in his hands, “please tell me those are not the noodles from the cabinet. Throw them away, for Chrissake. They are ten years old.”

  He marched to their table and started unloading the bags. “Here’s some steak, some fries, and if anyone feels particularly healthy, I got a salad too. Sorry, love.” He turned to Hiroko. “They don’t sell beer to go, and I’m out, but I thought you were hungry, so I figured that beer could wait.”

  “I think we should keep him,” Chen said. “At least, for the time being.”

  “He grows on you.” Hiroko smiled. “Also, he and I were talking about the need to bring in some help before you and I got taken, so he’s practically up to speed.”

  “Practically?”

  “I didn’t have the opportunity to tell either of you, but there was something else,” Hiroko added. “As they dragged me to that room where you’d found me, we passed an open door to a larger area. I guess nobody counted on me getting out of that place alive, so they didn’t care. I saw a few shiny things hanging off the ceiling that looked like some crazy spacesuits.”