The Devil's Ransom, page 20
Pushka, now getting his own bag, said, “Yes. Kill it.”
Rodavan hit the switch and smoke started streaming from the first computer, then the second. The front door exploded inward, with three men barreling inside, and Pushka screamed, “Escape plan!”
Rodavan was trapped between the door and the terrace. He tried to run by one of the men but was caught, lifted off the ground, and slammed to the floor. Pushka made it to the terrace, panting in panic. He threw his bag over the wall, leapt on a table next to the iron gutter pipe, and was ripped off it with the force of a hurricane. He slammed into the concrete, rolled over, and found himself staring at the barrel of a gun held by a blond woman. He saw her snarl, then her finger tighten on the trigger.
He held his hands up and said, “No, no, no. Don’t.”
A black man appeared, touching her shoulder. She relaxed. The black man said, “You speak English?”
Pushka shook his head. The black man said, “Then what was ‘No, no, don’t’? And why are you shaking your head at the question if you don’t understand?”
He punched Pushka in the face, bouncing his head on the concrete. He said again, “Do you speak English?”
Pushka nodded. The black man said, “Good. Let’s go inside.”
Chapter 39
I took one look at the cloistered space and knew that the minute we hit the stairwell to the safehouse we’d alert them. They weren’t stupid. They were computer geniuses, after all. So I’d decided to go in hard, like a hit in Fallujah, Iraq. No subtlety, no sneaking around. Just set up squirter control to contain any escape routes, then storm the place full-on, using speed, surprise, and violence of action. Once we broke the plane of the stairwell, I’d assume we were compromised, as I did when cracking a gate in Fallujah.
I’d set things in motion, getting Brett and Jennifer in position, then Veep, Knuckles, and I sat for a little bit at an outdoor café in a courtyard adjacent to the Makarun alley waiting on the squirter team to climb the wall. I was a little bit antsy because if they had some perimeter warning out the back, we might be screwed, but I figured if they realized we were coming up the wall, they’d come running out the front. The stairwell was a choke point that would prevent escape, but it would create problems, as we’d have to take them down right here in the tunnel, with the patrons in the restaurant in full view.
Knuckles twiddled a bread knife in his hands, saying, “Full-on assault here. That’s a little bold.”
I chuckled and said, “Oversight Council gives us Omega. We determine how to execute. Yeah, full-on assault. We break that stairwell, and you know they’re going to run.”
He smiled and said, “I’m not complaining. I get a little sick of the ‘snoop and poop until we get shot at’ scenario. I’d rather be the ones doing the shooting from the outset.”
I squinted my eyes, and he held up his hands saying, “Metaphorically speaking. I’m not going to blast away just because.”
Our earpieces came alive. “Squirter control in place. Cleared to breach.”
I clicked on and said, “No issues?”
“Nope. No compromise. Standing by.”
I looked at Veep and Knuckles and said, “Looks like it’s showtime.”
I glanced around, saw nothing of concern, and went back to the net, saying, “We’re on the way.”
We sidled up to the tunnel entrance leading to the restaurant and the stairwell. We went down the tunnel, stopping right at the gap of the stairwell and seeing a guy sitting on the bottom steps bouncing a rubber ball. I had no idea if he was early warning, but didn’t think so. If they had an alert, it would be through cameras and motion sensors, not some guy on the steps. They were sophisticated in high-tech solutions, not social ones. He was probably just some worker hanging around.
I stopped in front of the man and held out a fifty-kuna note, saying, “Go get yourself some gelato.”
He smiled with rotting teeth, took the cash, and walked back up the tunnel. I turned to Veep and Knuckles saying, “Okay, it’s on the third floor. Hard breach. Veep, you’ve got the door. Knuckles, you’ve got breach.”
We stepped into the stairwell, getting out of sight from the restaurant courtyard, and Veep circled his backpack to the front, pulling out a small battering ram that looked like a two-foot iron telephone pole with handles at the front and back. Knuckles withdrew his suppressed Glock, looked at me, and I stacked behind Veep, bringing out my own.
I said, “Execute,” and Knuckles took off up the stairwell, leading the way with his Glock, Veep right behind him, all of us running like gazelles being chased by a cheetah. We reached the door in seconds, but knew we’d already been seen, either by a proximity alert or an actual camera. Knuckles put his barrel on the door for security and Veep came from behind him, swinging the ram in a vicious arc, shattering the locks. He spun aside, dropping the ram, and Knuckles raced in, me right behind him.
Knuckles saw one man coming around a table full of computers, immediately focused on his hands, realized he was unarmed, and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him to the floor. I went right, getting around him and trying to reach another man racing with a backpack to the terrace. He made it, but I knew that would be no escape.
Veep came in, running to the bedroom. He came out, said, “It’s clear,” then, “The computers are smoking.”
I looked at the table and saw all four of them daisy-chained together with a computer cable, the first one looking like it was melting, the second showing a great deal of smoke, and the third just starting to puff. I grabbed the fourth and jerked it off the table, separating the cord.
To Veep I said, “Close the door.” He did so just as Brett came in frog-marching the man who’d fled, his face showing the start of a shiner. I recognized him from our operations on the bar terrace in Zagreb. He was the one who’d been shot.
I said, “Put them both in a chair. Veep, see if that last computer is still worth a shit.”
Veep went to the table and I turned to the men, saying, “You two chuckleheads have caused a lot of problems for me and my friends.”
The one from the terrace said, “We have done nothing. You are robbers. You have broken the law.”
I pulled up a chair opposite them, close enough for our knees to touch, and Knuckles circled behind their backs, causing them to track him. All designed to make them feel afraid and compliant. I leaned forward and tapped Terrace Guy on the forehead with the barrel of my pistol, saying, “Don’t worry about him. Look at me. I’m the one asking the questions. You’ll know what he’s doing when you answer wrong. You were shot in Zagreb. Now, that wasn’t by our hand, but we were there.”
His face went slack in shock, but he tried anyway: “I don’t know anything about that!”
Knuckles smacked the back of his head, not hard, but enough to show him that he no longer held his own freedom.
I said, “That is a lie. You know it, and I know it. You lie again, there will be no love tap. Now, let’s start with names.”
The other man blurted out, “I’m Rodavan. I don’t do anything but maintain the computers and survey for targets. He’s the skill. He’s who you want.”
I smiled and said, “That’s a good start.” I turned to Terrace Guy and said, “You?”
He took a breath and let it out, then said, “Pushka. Are you from Russia?”
I said, “No, but we’ll get into that in due time. First, there was a man in that bar with you. Where is he?”
Pushka’s face grew cagy, and Knuckles smacked Rodavan in the back of the head. Rodavan blurted out, “Branko’s in a safehouse about thirty minutes north of here, in the mountains.”
“Good. Rodavan, you now know how this is going to go. Pushka lies, and you get smacked.”
Rodavan looked at Pushka in fear, saying, “Just tell them what they want to know.”
Pushka thought a minute, then slowly nodded, saying, “Who are you? What do you want?”
“First, I want you to give us the key for the ransomware you injected in our systems. You do that, and then we can talk about what happens to you after.”
Pushka gave a stunned appearance, as if it was the last thing he expected. Knuckles rabbit-punched Rodavan in the kidney, causing him to fall out of his chair. He stood over his body with a pistol raised and Rodavan screamed.
I held up my hand, ostensibly telling him not to pull the trigger, but it was just an act. This whole thing was an act, and it worked.
Rodavan sat up and said, “It’s Pushka’s fault. We’re Dark Star. We did it. Please don’t kill me. Hurt him. He’s the liar. All I do is investigate the corporations for attack.”
I waved to Knuckles and he pulled him back into his seat. I said, “How did you find Blaisdell Consulting? Where did that come from?”
He rolled his eyes, looking for Knuckles, and I slammed my hand on a table, causing both of them to jump. I snarled, “Where?”
He blurted out, “Just research, man. Just research. I find the fish and Pushka is the one who hooks them.”
I looked at Veep and said, “The computer?”
“It appears to be working.”
“Still hooked to the Wi-Fi?”
“Yep.”
I turned to Pushka and said, “I want that ransomware key, and I want it right now. You are going to send it over the channel you asked us to use for the ransom. I have a friend on the other end who can make it happen.”
He said, “I’m not authorized to do that. I’m not the payment guy. You’ll have to wait on Branko to do this.”
I leaned into him and pulled out a knife, flicking the blade open. “You fucking think I’m going to pay for this?” I turned to Knuckles and said, “Hold him in place.” To Brett and Jennifer I said, “Hold his legs and remove his shoes.”
He struggled, but in short order his nasty feet were open to the air. I said, “I’m assuming you’ll have to use all five fingers to type, so I’ll be taking off a toe for every second you wait.”
I saw the sweat break out on his brow, and I placed the edge of the blade next to his big toe, saying, “No sense starting with the little one.”
“Okay! Okay! Give me the computer.”
I waved at Knuckles and Brett. They jerked his chair behind the computer while I called Creed. He answered, I put him on the line with Pushka, and they began typing together.
As he worked, I turned to Rodavan and said, “Where’s Branko? The leader?”
He was now completely compliant, and because of it, I knew he wasn’t going to lie to me. He said, “I have no idea. He left here this morning and went up to the safehouse. He called here on his new phone, said he was there, then chatted over the internet with Pushka. Said he was coming right back.”
That perked up my interest. “New phone? He used it to call here?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the phone that answered?”
He pointed to Pushka and without a word, Pushka held it up while still typing. I said, “Plug that thing into the computer. Let Creed see it as well.”
He did so, and I returned Rodavan. “Why did those guys want to kill you in Zagreb? What was that about?”
Rodavan said, “I wasn’t there. That was Branko and Pushka. Hell, Pushka got shot. I have no idea about that. The guy came in ranting about some sort of treasure and then shot him. It had nothing to do with this.”
Pushka said, “Stop talking, man. You think this guy is going to help you? He’s here to hurt you.”
I heard treasure and made a connection. I said, “So these guys were from Afghanistan?”
“Afghanistan? Like the country?”
I saw complete confusion and figured he had nothing left to give. I turned to Pushka, saying, “Where do we stand?”
He leaned back and said, “You’re good to go. Key sent. You’re clear.” I called Creed and he confirmed, elated, like we’d just solved the problem of world hunger.
Pushka looked at me and said, “So what’s that mean for us?”
I said, “What it means is I want the leader. It’s not your fault, but you guys fucked with the wrong people here. I want Branko. Where is he?”
He raised his hands and said, “I have no idea. He was supposed to return here today, but never showed. I could call him . . . see if he answers.”
I said, “That’s not necessary. I have his phone number now. I’ll find him myself.”
He said, “Who are you? Nobody can do what you say without significant resources. Are you from Andrei? Or Sphinx?”
Now intrigued, I said, “Who’s Andrei?”
He turned away and said, “Nobody. Nobody!”
I said, “He’s a somebody or you wouldn’t have mentioned him.”
Knuckles towered over Rodavan, giving him the full weight of his capacity for violence. Rodavan cowered and said, “He’s our bankroll. Some Russian guy. We’ve never met him, but Branko has. Man, all we do is computer shit. I didn’t sign up for this.”
I tapped him in the head with the barrel of my pistol and said, “Who’s Sphinx?”
Rodavan said, “I don’t know. He’s an American. He helped with the code.”
Pushka said, “Rodavan! No more!”
I turned to him and said, “I’m going to get the answers one way or the other. That’s a given. What’s unknown now is how much pain this will cause.”
Then someone knocked on the door.
Chapter 40
Shakor walked down the promenade outside the tourist entrance of the old town of Split and punched Drago in the back, saying, “You’d better not be lying to me.”
People from all over the world spilling around them, Drago said, “He’s here. I’m sure of it.”
They continued until they reached the Bronze Gate of the old town, the southern one facing the Adriatic Sea, and walked through the archway. Shakor said, “Where? Where do we go?”
Drago led him past an ancient cellar, walking up a stairwell into the sunshine, passing by multiple table merchants selling local artisan products. They entered the courtyard of the city proper, walking beside buildings that were older than them both by a millennium.
Shakor looked around, saw the crowds swirling about, and said, “Where?”
Drago said, “It was farther in. Near a restaurant called Makarun.”
Shakor said, “Keep going. If this is a trick, you’ll be the one to lose.”
Truthfully, Shakor didn’t believe Drago was using subterfuge. After they’d attacked the house, and Branko had escaped, Drago had been as compliant as possible. Almost to the point of obsequiousness. But Shakor still had to keep fear in the guy, if only because he knew the man would attempt escape if given the chance.
Drago pointed right, to the Cathedral of Saint Domnius, the bell tower rising above everything else, saying, “It’s this way. I recognize that.”
They reached the end of the courtyard and Drago took a left into an alley, walking under an arch. He reached an intersection with alleys going in all directions and turned in a circle, unsure where to go. He looked up, saw an ancient clock behind him, and said, “This way, this way.”
He went left, and within seconds the alley opened up into a broad plaza lined with cafés. Confused, he turned in another circle. Shakor’s patience growing thin, he pulled Drago up short, saying, “Where are you taking us? Where is this stairwell?”
“It’s here. It’s here. We must have just passed it.”
Shakor jabbed him with a finger and said, “Find it.”
Drago said, “I’m trying, I’m trying. I didn’t spend a lot of time here. I just picked it out and paid.”
Drago went back down the alley and saw the tunnel leading to the restaurant. He exhaled and said, “That’s it. It’s a stairwell right before the entrance to the restaurant.”
He led them down the tunnel and Shakor saw the courtyard to the Makarun restaurant, full of packed tables with white linen and trees. He knew that if Drago ran through into it, he’d be free. Drago stopped and Shakor grabbed his shirt, saying, “You’d better not be tricking me.”
Drago pointed to a stairwell to the right and Shakor said, “That’s the operational cell? Right up those steps?”
“Yeah. It’s a Vrbo we found with high-speed internet. The only one around.”
Shakor turned to the other men and said, “Same thing as before. These guys don’t like to fight, but they do like to run. They probably have a plan of escape out of this place just like they did in the other one. We get in, show them some violence, and dominate the place. Drago, you lead. You knock on the door, get them to open it, and we’ll do the rest.”
Now scared, Drago said, “If they come out shooting, they’ll shoot me first.”
“Shooting? Do they have guns?”
Drago looked from Shakor to the other men, then hung his head, saying, “No. They have no guns.”
Shakor said, “Good. You go first because they’ll recognize you. That’s our edge. The only thing you need to worry about is if Branko isn’t there. If he is, you go free. If not, you come with us to the other safehouses you’ve arranged. Now get moving.”
Drago hesitantly walked up the stairs, winding around the landings until he reached the top, seeing the door lock had been smashed and was slightly ajar. He pointed at it with wide eyes, and Shakor simply shook his head, indicating he should knock and call out.
Drago did, heard Rodavan answer, and calmed down. Rodavan cracked the door, saying, “We’ve had some issues. Where is Branko?”
Shakor slammed him in the head with his pistol, just like he’d done successfully to Drago in the safehouse earlier, then shoved his body past the threshold. He had a quick glimpse of a man behind a computer—the same one he’d shot in the leg in Zagreb—and four other people in the room. None of whom were computer geeks.
A man to his right immediately locked up the wrist holding his pistol, slamming it into the doorjamb. It went off, the bullet ricocheting from the stone and hitting the man behind the computer. He fell out of the chair while two other men rushed forward with their own guns drawn. Drago screamed and began racing back down the stairs as Shakor’s other two men bounced against him trying to get inside.
