Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) (6 page)

It had begun five long years ago, and accommodating the odd ‘special cargo’ was now routine, their consciences salved somewhat by large cash bonuses delivered personally to their homes by very dangerous-looking men — the very act of payment a tacit reminder of both the carrot and the stick. At least things had been routine, until this morning. The voice on the sat phone was emphatic, the container must be jettisoned, and the captain had set the long-planned but never executed operation in motion.

As usual, the ‘special cargo’ was in a twenty-foot container in the outermost top tier on the starboard side, near the flare of the bow — a spot chosen with care, where the containers were secured with twist locks and not tie rods. He watched as the first officer directed sailors releasing the twist locks and the chief engineer directed the placement of tough but thin rubber air bladders into the narrow space between the ‘special cargo’ container and the box below it. All the bladders were positioned on the inboard side of the container, so that when inflated, they would tip the container outboard, toward the side of the vessel.

The men finished their tasks and began to scramble out of harm’s way, just as the radio on the captain’s belt squawked.

“First officer to bridge.”

“
Da
. This is bridge. Go ahead,” the captain said.

“We are finished, and all men are clear.”

“Good!
Spasibo
, Mr. Ivanov. Chief, do you copy?” the captain asked into the radio.

“
Da
, Captain. I am here,” the chief engineer replied.

“Very well,” the captain said. “Begin inflating.”

He was answered by the hiss of air rushing through hoses, followed shortly thereafter by the distant sound of an air compressor cycling on. He watched in silence as the inside edge of the ‘special cargo’ container rose slowly into the air and the container tipped outward toward the starboard side. After a long ten minutes, progress stopped with the container at an odd angle. The captain keyed the mike on his radio.

“Chief, do you copy? What is the problem?”

“The bags will only lift seven hundred and fifty millimeters, Captain. I think we have hit the limit, and it is not enough to tip the container over. I can shore the container up with wood and reposition the bladders, but it will take some time.”

The captain thought a moment and looked out at the sea around the ship.

“Let me try something first,” the captain said into the radio as he moved into the wheelhouse. “It may take a moment. Make sure everyone stays well clear of the container.”

“Understood,” the chief replied.

“Put steering on hand,” the captain ordered the helmsman, then glanced once again at the sea. A southerly wind was generating a moderate swell, striking the ship almost broad on the port beam, inducing a slight but gentle roll.

“Steering is on hand, Captain,” the helmsman said.

“Very well. Five degrees right rudder,” the captain said, and the helmsman confirmed the order and turned the wheel.

The captain moved to the wide windows at the front of the bridge and watched the sea with a practiced eye as the ship’s bow swung northwest, and the swell began to strike the ship from astern and at an angle.

“Steady as she goes.”

The helmsman repeated the captain’s order and steadied the ship on her new course.

The captain nodded to himself at the anticipated effect as the ship began an increasingly violent corkscrew motion in the quartering seas, dipping further to starboard with each successive roll. On the fifth or sixth roll, the ‘special container’ reached the tipping point and rolled off the stack into the sea with a spectacular splash. He heard a cheer from the men assembled forward and allowed himself a small smile.

“Well done, Captain,” said the chief over the radio.

“Come left to new course of two four zero,” the captain said, waiting for the helmsman to confirm the order before moving back out on the starboard bridge wing to gaze over the side. In the ship’s wake, the container was already sinking as it filled with water through holes pre-drilled near the bottom of the container for that very purpose. He lifted his own radio.

“And well done to you, gentlemen. Now, Chief, please take a sledgehammer to some spare twist locks so we have some evidence of the ‘violent rogue wave’ we encountered to present the authorities in Savannah.”

The chief engineer acknowledged the order and the captain sighed. Now to craft some fairy tale for the logbook.

Chapter Five

Kairouz Residence
London, UK

“Sergei Arsov,” Anna said, turning her laptop on the coffee table so the others could see the picture. “A lot of Russian nationals named ‘Sergei’ have entered the UK in the last year, but when we bumped the list against those with long stay or resident visas and with Tanya’s description, the list got a lot shorter. This is our man; Tanya positively IDed him based on the photo.”

“What else do you have on him?” Dugan asked.

Anna shook her head. “Not much. He entered the country with Indefinite Leave to Remain status, arranged very quickly, I might add. It looks like he has competent legal counsel or friends in high places. He listed his occupation as ‘management consultant — self-employed.’ He had to list a UK place of residence as part of the application, but that’s a dead end. It’s his solicitor’s office. However, we’ll find him now; it’s just a matter of time.”

“But time is what we do not have,” Ilya said, rising to pace. “Already we have lost a day, and this Arsov now knows someone looks for Karina, so she is in more danger, I think. We must find this apartment and go there at once to save her.”

“That might make things worse,” Anna said. “The man’s not stupid. I think we can assume he’s already moved her somewhere. We know he’s connected to Club
Pyatnitsa
, so we’ll stake out the club until he shows up and then keep him under surveillance on the hope he leads us to Karina.”

“I agree with Ilya,” Borgdanov said. “I am not such big supporter of ‘hope,’ and we do not have time for this surveillance. If we catch this bastard, we will question him at once and make him tell us where he is keeping Karina. And HE can ‘hope’ we kill him quickly.”

Anna stiffened. “Gentlemen, I’m prepared to do everything in my power to help you rescue Karina and turn this man over to the proper authorities. I understand and share your rage, and I’ve ignored your previous comments about killing this man, but I can’t be a party to a murder, however justified.”

Borgdanov glared. “And what will your authorities do to this bastard? You have already said that he has very smart lawyers,
da
? I think your authorities do nothing, just like in Russia.”

Ilya muttered something in Russian, obviously in support of Borgdanov; then the room grew quiet, the tension palpable. Dugan moved to defuse it.

“Calm down, Andrei. Anna’s sticking her neck way out here, and if this turns into a vigilante action, she could be in serious trouble.”

Borgdanov glanced at Ilya, then turned back to Anna. “We had not thought of that, and we appreciate what you are doing. I promise we will not kill this bastard in the UK; beyond that I promise nothing.”

Anna returned Borgdanov’s gaze for a long moment before speaking. “We’ll discuss that when the time comes. For the moment, let’s concentrate on finding the elusive Mr. Arsov, shall we? Do I at least have your agreement that you won’t rush in and beat him to a bloody pulp the moment we find him?”

Borgdanov looked at Ilya, who nodded.

“
Da
,” Borgdanov said. “To this we will agree.”

“It’s settled then,” Dugan turned to Gillian. “By the way, where is Tanya? I’m surprised she let you out of her sight.”

Gillian smiled. “She’s up in Cassie’s room. Those two bonded immediately, and they’re about the same size. Cassie is finding her something to wear.”

In the chair beside Gillian, Alex stirred. “Do you think that’s wise, my dear?”

“Well, I thought it preferable to having the poor girl run around half naked.”

Alex scowled. “You know that’s not what I meant. I just don’t think Cassie should… should… associate too closely with this girl. One never knows… I mean…”

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean, Alex Kairouz!” Gillian’s eyes flashed. “And you should bloody well be ashamed of yourself! Tanya is a victim, and I’ll not have her treated like a leper because of what she was forced to do to survive and protect her family.”

“I’m not suggesting she be treated like a leper, only that Cassie is innocent — still practically a child, for God’s sake! I don’t think she should be exposed to all this.”

Gillian softened and leaned forward to lay her hand on Alex’s cheek and look into his eyes. “The world is a dangerous place, Alex, and no one knows that better than I. I also knew from the beginning that Cassie could never protect herself from dangers she didn’t understand, so I’ve taught her about ‘all this,’ as you call it, since puberty. She knows and understands what Tanya has endured, and wants to help her. I’m tremendously proud of our daughter, and you should be as well.”

“Well, you could have told me.”

Gillian smiled sweetly. “Yes, dear, but you would have objected, and I would have done it anyway, and we would likely have had a terrible and continuous argument. Isn’t this much better?”

***

Tanya stood with Cassie in the walk-in closet and marveled at the racks of clothes.

“So many beautiful clothes. Is like Christmas. I do not know what to choose.”

“You can have anything you like,” Cassie said. “Mum said you can stay in the guest bedroom. Pick out what you want, and we’ll move it in there. Except for underwear. I have some new stuff I haven’t worn though so I’ll give you that.” Cassie made a face. “Wearing someone else’s underwear is gross.”

Tanya laughed. “I like you, Cassie. You make me laugh, and I have not laughed in very long time.”

Cassie hugged her. “I like you too, and I’m glad you’re staying with us. Mum says you can stay as long as you like.”

They picked out a few outfits, and Tanya carried them to Cassie’s bed. As she laid them down, Tanya noticed several pictures of a beautiful woman on Cassie’s dresser. She had honey-blond hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion — she was the spitting image of Cassie.

“Who is this?”

“That’s my birth mum. Her name was Kathleen, and she died when I was just a baby. But Mum Gillian told me all about her, and she gave me those pictures so I would never forget her. I think she loved my birth mum a lot.”

“So Gillian is not your real mother?”

Cassie shook her head. “She was my nanny. My mum and dad hired her when I was a baby after I got real sick with a high fever. Then my mum got cancer and died, and Gillian stayed and took care of me and Dad. Then they fell in love and got married.”

“Is like fairy tale.” Tanya spied another picture at the back of the dresser.

“And so who is this handsome fellow that has you smiling so wide?” she asked, lifting a small photo of a beaming Cassie and a young man in uniform, obviously taken on a ship.

Cassie blushed. “That’s Nigel. That was taken on his ship in Korea.”

“So, your boyfriend is sailor man. Very nice!”

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” Cassie said, eyes downcast. “We only met in person one time. Mostly we text and email and video chat.” She perked up. “But his ship got in to Southampton yesterday, and Mum is going to invite him to dinner.”

“Trust me.” Tanya looked at the picture. “I can tell by the way he is looking at you that he is your boyfriend.”

“I really hope so. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Tanya looked away, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was really dumb! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I meant… you know… before. Oh, that’s wrong too!”

Tanya turned back to face Cassie and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she put both her hands on Cassie’s arms to calm her.

“Is okay, Cassie. Is just difficult to think of these things sometimes. And yes, I had boyfriend in St. Petersburg. His name is Ivan. He is very quiet but very nice. And very, very smart. He is computer programmer. We were going to marry.”

“That’s great!” Cassie got excited. “Maybe we can call him and let him know you’re okay. Do you have his number?”

Tanya shook her head. “I think is dangerous for him if I call him now. And besides, I am not so sure that… after what has happened…” Tanya paused, once more on the verge of tears. “Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore.”

Cassie looked perplexed. “What? Why?” she asked, then realization dawned. “You mean because of what you were forced to do? But that wasn’t YOUR fault.”

Tanya hung her head, her voice barely audible. “Perhaps his head will tell him this, but his heart may say something different. I am no longer the same person. Even I feel shamed and dirty. How can he feel any different?”

Cassie’s temper flared. “That’s terrible! If he stops loving you because of what someone else forced you to do, he’s just a… just a…” Cassie groped for words. “Just a no-good wanker!”

Tanya looked up, shocked by Cassie’s reaction, and her new friend’s righteous indignation was so complete it struck Tanya as amusing. The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, and though tears still ran down her cheeks, she burst out laughing and folded Cassie in a tight hug.

“I think you and I will become great friends,” Tanya said, through the laughter and the tears.

Club Pyatnitsa
London, UK

“You’re sure it’s him?” Arsov asked.

Nazarov smiled. “Not just him. Them.” He pulled a stack of photos out of his jacket pocket and tossed them on the desk.

“I found the cab,” Nazarov said, “and the cabbie remembered the fare. He picked the guy up at a fancy house over near Kensington Square. I had Anatoli stake the place out, and he took those last night.”

Arsov looked through the pictures. He recognized the American and both of the Russians. One photo showed the American exiting a large house in the company of a striking redhead. “Hmm. Kensington Square. That says money. Just who is this American?”

Nazavov’s smile widened. “The Internet is a wonderful thing. His name is Thomas Dugan, and he is managing director of Phoenix Shipping Limited. The house belongs to an Alexander Kairouz, who is chairman of the board of the same company.”

Arsov glanced back at the photo. “And the redhead?”

“Her name is Anna Walsh. She’s this Dugan’s live-in girlfriend. Other than that, I can find nothing on her, but we’re still looking.”

“And you saw no sign of Tanya?”

“Not so far. I slipped the doorman at this Dugan’s flat a bribe, and according to him, he’s seen no one resembling Tanya, so I think she must be at the Kairouz house. Anyway, we’re covering Kairouz, Dugan, and the Russians around the clock. The Russians seem to be staying at Dugan’s flat. Someone will lead us to Tanya sooner or later.”

“You better make sure it’s sooner,” Arsov said. “We damn near had to kill Karina to get her to identify the
Spetsnaz
and admit the big blond fellow was her uncle, and I don’t like unnecessary wear and tear on the merchandise. It’s not good for business. We need to put an end to this.”

“I don’t understand why you just don’t make a call to St. Petersburg. If they put pressure on the girl’s family, this bastard Denosovitch and his old boss Borgdanov will get the message and back off. That’s always worked before.”

“Because, Nazarov, I am not eager to give our superiors in St. Petersburg the impression that we cannot handle one troublesome whore and her loving uncle. Must I remind you that our competence is already in question because of the loss of the drug shipment to Savannah?”

Nazarov bristled. “I told you, that was not our fault.”

“And as I explained to you, it doesn’t fucking matter. The leak was either here, in the US, or in St. Petersburg. We’re responsible for the UK and the US, and do you really think our superiors in St. Petersburg will easily accept that the problem is on THEIR end? Perhaps I should send you to St. Petersburg so you can explain your theory to them in person,
da
?”

“I… I had not thought of that.”

“Yes, well thinking does not seem to be a skill you’ve completely mastered.” Arsov glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. I want you to concentrate on finding Tanya, and then we’ll take care of our
Spetsnaz
friends. They are the real threat. This American clown is just someone who is trying to help them. He will fade away without the Russians in the picture. I want you to locate Tanya by six o’clock. Use as many men as necessary, but get it done. Is that clear?”

Nazarov nodded and rose from his chair.

“Oh, and one other thing. Move Karina back to the holding warehouse, just to be on the safe side. I’m bored with the little bitch anyway. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

Near Kairouz Residence
London, UK

Nazarov slumped in the driver’s seat of the car and took a sip of the cold, bitter coffee. He grimaced and set it back in the cup holder before glancing at his watch. He hated this surveillance and ordinarily would have delegated the task, but given Arsov’s current mood, he couldn’t afford a screw up. He’d decided to watch the Kairouz place himself. He had a man watching the back entrance as well, where the driveway led from a large garage on to a side street. So far, all they’d observed was Kairouz leaving for work, with his driver, and the arrival of a fat woman he assumed was a servant of some sort.

He had Yuri positioned outside Dugan’s flat and Anatoli watching the Phoenix shipping offices, each with one man to help, but neither of the other two teams had reported anything of note. Bored, he dialed his cell phone.

“Yuri,” he said when his man answered, “any activity there?”

“
Nyet
,” Yuri replied. “The American and red-haired woman left earlier, and there was some activity as other people in building left for work. No sign of the
Spetsnaz
. I think they are still inside. Since then only minor foot traffic in and out of building, and one telephone repair truck goes into underground garage.” Yuri paused. “We have been here long time. I am very sleepy and sick of pissing in bottle. When do we get relief?”

“You will get relieved when I say!” Nazarov snapped. “And I am pissing in bottle too, so quit whining. Call me if you see anything suspicious, and you better stay alert if you know what’s good for you. Understand!”