Going Back: Tom Novak Book Three, page 7
‘Can we see the number called or calling?’
‘Sure; the screen is mirrored to me so I should be able to see everything. It was a cell phone number that called him. I’m running it through, but it may take longer than normal as it is a local airtime provider. It’s not so easy as being back in the US or UK.’ She sipped her coffee and sat back down on the bed, her fingers drumming on the keyboard.
‘Any luck with his laptop?’ Tom asked, munching his greasy burek.
‘Not yet. The brute force algorithm is working, but it may take a while. I found an old Facebook profile, but he has not used it for ages. It may help narrow the parameters, but the encryption is more sophisticated than I thought.’
‘How about activating his camera on the phone?’ Tom asked.
‘That should be easy, but I don’t want to activate it unless I have to. I can’t be sure whether it will have any visible impact on the handset from his end. If I’d had a little more time last night, I could have been more certain.’
‘Well, listen. I need to contact him soon in any case, why not use that opportunity to test what the capabilities of the malware is? I could do with checking in and giving him some story about sourcing and laying hands on the battery. I need a burner phone, though.’
‘Hold up, Detective. Girl Guide: I’m still always prepared; I have one in here.’ She reached into her computer bag and produced a basic mobile phone.
‘What type of SIM?’
‘Local, most popular network.’
‘Cool. I’ll message him now on the secure app and see if he wants to give me a number. We are buddies now after last evening’s debauchery.’ Tom chuckled as he tapped out a brief message on the secure messaging app.
‘Are you awake, we need to talk. Give me a number, Tarzan.’
‘Why did we pick Tarzan?’ he asked Pet.
‘Mike suggested it when I created the profile on Alpha Bay. Maybe Tarzan was a Serb?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Tom, ‘but Johnny Weissmuller, who played the first Tarzan character, was born in Mejda in Serbia.’
‘Whoa, you are really boring,’ Pet shook her head, smiling. ‘That’s the most boring thing anyone has ever said to anyone, ever.’
There was a buzz as the phone indicated a received message: a phone number flashed up on the screen. Tom showed it to Pet, who noted it in her book as he was dialling before clamping a pair of sleek headphones over her ears.
‘Hey buddy. Man, I feel like a dead guy today. How about you?’ Cerović’s voice was thick and gummy.
‘Not too great. I thought we were going to club? Lots of girls you said.’ Tom said, his Serb accent strong.
‘Passed out, dude. Slept like a baby, though. You are a fucking animal, man.’
Tom just barked a short laugh. ‘What we were discussing. I am going to inventory my items today, then I will call you tomorrow.’
‘Sounds great, man. My people are giving me pressure, they’ve already messaged me wanting an update this morning. I’ve assured them I have the right batteries coming, don’t let me down Tarzan.’ Tom could hear the man yawning.
‘Sure thing. I’ll call later.’ Tom hung up.
‘Sounds like you guys had a blast last night, Detective.’ Pet said, a smile creeping across her face.
‘You’ve no idea,’ Tom said, shaking his head. ‘Microphone okay?’
‘Clear as a bell, but only his side of the call,’ Pet said.
‘Better than nothing. In fact, better than expected. Let’s call Mike; we need to get this moving.’ Tom picked up his phone and dialled.
There was nothing; no ring tone, no voicemail, no clicks or buzzes. Just silence. ‘That’s strange. You try, Pet?’
Pet picked up her phone and dialled, her face a puzzled frown as she got the same result. ‘Maybe in an area with no phones allowed?’ she shrugged.
‘What, in the US Embassy? He’s a senior spook. Something isn’t right. Come on, let’s get there and find out. I can’t believe he would be out of contact this long.’
*
They parked the Kuga in a multi-storey car park at the Alta shopping centre, within a short walk of the Embassy.
The Embassy lobby was just as Tom recalled it the previous day, a wide open space with a shiny marble floor, an immaculately turned-out US Marine guard stood by the metal detector arch behind a lectern just inside the door. The Marine stood straight and bolt upright, staring directly ahead. ‘May I help you?’
Pet smiled and held out an Embassy pass for the Marine to examine.
‘This is a temporary pass, Ma’am,’ the guard said. ‘It expired at midnight yesterday.’ He turned to Tom, keeping hold of Pet’s pass. ‘Do you have a pass, sir?’
‘I was escorted in by Mike Brogan yesterday and my pass was left with him when I departed.’ Tom said. He had left his temporary pass behind, on the basis that carrying a US Embassy pass when deployed undercover would be a daft idea.
‘Brogan, you say, sir?’ the Marine said formally with no warmth.
‘Yes, Mike Brogan. He’s a senior employee of the US government.’ Tom said, a rising feeling of unease creeping up in him.
‘Your name, sir?’
‘My name is Novak.’
‘Are you a US citizen, sir?’
‘No.’
The Marine looked down at a computer screen in front of him. ‘Sir, I have no Mr Brogan listed as being a member of Embassy staff.’
Pet interjected. ‘I was sponsored yesterday by Rudy O’Shea, who is a member of staff here. Please check; it’s urgent we see him or Mike.’
The Marine looked at Tom and Pet in turn, a hard look in his flinty eyes. His head tipped forward to appraise his screen, once more.
‘I have no record of a Mr O’Shea at the Embassy either, ma’am. Are either of you employees of the US government? Do you have any official form of identification?’ His gaze once more flicked between Tom and Pet, a look of suspicion on his strong features.
‘No. Neither of us are employees of the US Government, but both of us are providing officially sanctioned services to Mike Brogan.’ Pet’s normally cheery voice had slipped a little. ‘Just put the call in and let them know we are here.’
‘As I said previously, ma’am, neither man is listed here.’ A slight trace of frustration tainted the guard’s formal delivery.
‘Look can you just get the CIA representative down here?’ Pet said, matching his frustration.
‘Sorry ma’am, do you have an appointment?’
‘Christ’s sake, you know I don’t.’ Pet said, her voice hardening.
‘Please take a seat,’ the Marine said, politely but in a way that made it obvious that it was not a request, and indicating to a line of plastic chairs close to the door.
‘Tell them it’s urgent,’ Pet said as they sat down.
‘This isn’t right,’ Tom said, flatly. ‘Something is wrong.’ He took out his phone and dialled Mike once more. Nothing. Dead and silent.
The Marine fixed both of them with a hard stare whilst he spoke conspiratorially on the phone. His gaze only briefly flicked away from them to look at Pet’s Embassy pass.
‘Mike’s phone is still silent. Literally nothing. This is fucking weird, Pet. Have you tried calling Rudy?’
‘I don’t have a number for him. I’d never met him before yesterday.’
Tom exhaled a deep sigh.
‘I’m worried, Tom,’ said Pet. ‘What’s happened to Mike?’
‘Let’s see what the spooks say. They must know what’s going on,’ Tom said, but the sinking feeling in his gut told another story.
The Marine beckoned them both over once again.
‘There’s no one available to see you. Neither of you are US citizens. I must ask you to leave the Embassy.’ His voice was flat and invited no further comment.
‘What? What do you mean there is no one to see us?’ asked Pet.
‘Please leave immediately, ma’am, or I will have to have you removed,’ he said, his eyes unyielding, almost daring them not to comply.
Pet opened her mouth to argue, but Tom took her elbow and said, ‘Come on, let’s go.’
They walked out into the morning sunshine, the streets already bustling with commuters, shoppers, and sightseers. Rather than turn left back towards the car park Tom walked with long strides straight ahead towards the main road.
‘Tom, wrong direction,’ Pet said, struggling to match his pace.
‘I know. Keep walking; I think we can expect company,’ he said. His head was fixed straight ahead, but his eyes swivelled left and right, scanning around them.
‘Who from?’
‘Someone from the Embassy. That was all wrong. All of it. Just stick with me; I am going to see if I can flush anyone out.’
They hit the busy road that consisted of two lanes of traffic in each direction with trams running down the middle. Tom led the way as they came to the kerb and halted as if waiting for a gap in the heavy traffic. Looking in the reflection in the window of a shiny Mercedes stopped in front of them, Tom could clearly see a lone figure behind them, wearing mirrored shades. He looked military in his cargo pants and polo shirt and his hair was closely shorn. Without a doubt he was following them, but the amateurish approach made it clear to Tom that there was no team backing him up: just a lone follower pulled out of an office at short notice. He’d be easy to lose.
‘We’re taking a tram. Hold on a second, see if this dude follows us further. Don’t look around,’ Tom said, his lips barely moving.
‘Who?’ Pet said, her voice tainted with concern.
‘Blue polo, grey cargo pants, mirror shades, left the Embassy just after us.’
‘Is he following?’
‘Yes, and very badly. I’d be fuming if I was his surveillance team leader.’
A red and white tram slowly and steadily came into view.
‘Move when I say, Pet.’ Tom said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to look interested in it.
From his peripheral vision Tom watched the tram doors slide open and the half a dozen passengers begin to file on. Just as the last one jumped on Tom said, ‘Now. Normal pace,’ and they both got into the vehicle.
‘Two single rides,’ Tom said in Serb to the driver.
‘Three marks sixty,’ the grizzled driver said.
Tom handed over a ten mark note and waited for the change. They walked to the rear of the packed tram, Tom looking away from their follower.
‘Is he still there?’
‘Yes, he’s on his phone. He looks a little stressed, like he doesn’t know what to do.’ Pet whispered.
‘Amateurs. Is it just him?’ Tom replied as the doors hissed shut and the tram glided away.
‘I can’t see anyone else. Why are they following us?’
‘I don’t know. I need to figure this out. And look, we have another incompetent watcher.’ Tom nodded towards the sidewalk, where a similarly-attired agent had joined his team member looking in the direction of the tram. One was touching his finger to his ear, the classic sign of an amateur surveillance operative. Confusion reigned between the two. They were clearly expecting them to head for a car; did they know about the Kuga?
‘Who would know about the Ford and the hotel?’ Tom said.
‘The car was hired by Mike’s people, but I arranged the hotel. Why?’
‘What audit trail will there be?’
‘Car is through company Amex. I did the hotel through my own expenses fund as I couldn’t get hold of Mike. I use an untraceable account, as I’m paid via an unconventional route. I’m deniable so I like to be a little difficult to pin down. I move money about plenty, so I’m sure the hotel is safe.’ Pet looked ahead, her voice barely a whisper.
‘Okay. We leave the car where it is; there is nothing in it we need. Let’s get our gear from the hotel quickly and relocate. I don’t want to take the risk that they can trace it, so we’ll move hotels whilst we figure out what the hell is going on.’
‘Is that necessary?’
‘Maybe not, but it’s not worth the risk. We’ll find a cheap place and pay cash. We need to stay off the radar for a while so I can think.’
‘What the hell is going on, Tom? Where the hell is Mike?’
‘To be honest, Pet, I’ve no idea.’
*
They rode the tram into central Sarajevo and dived into a small, empty coffee shop. Tom decided that they needed to pause a moment to gather their thoughts before they made the next move.
‘First thing, we need a new car. We can’t use the Ford as it’s too traceable. Is there a second-hand lot nearby?’
Pet picked up her phone and began tapping, swiping and scrolling.
‘There’s one not far from here, but why don’t we just hire one?’ she asked.
‘Too much of an audit trail. I want to be anonymous and, as we are cash rich with Pavlović’s stash, we may as well use it. He tried to kill me, so the least he can do is buy me a car.’
‘Seems fair,’ Pet smiled. ‘They have plenty of cheap stock. What are we looking for?’
‘Just cheap and anonymous; anything will do.’
‘Well this seems to be the place to go then. Let’s get our gear from the hotel and get a cab there.’
11
They ended up with a twelve-year-old Skoda estate car in an anonymous, faded grey. It had almost three hundred thousand kilometres on the odometer but it was clean, had good tyres, and seemed in reasonable order. It also had a powerful two-litre engine that felt strong and smooth. Tom didn’t intend on getting into any car chases, but he figured he would rather have a powerful car, just in case.
The dealer, a grimy little man, didn’t turn a hair when Tom offered him two thousand dollars for a car that was advertised at sixteen hundred euros, and he had a relaxed attitude to any paperwork which suited them just fine. As always, wherever you went in the world, people were always happy to accept Uncle Sam’s dollars and, within thirty minutes of entering the grimy office, they were driving back out onto the Sarajevo streets.
‘Right, hotel next. Any suggestions, Pet? Same criteria: cheap and anonymous, and preferably relaxed attitudes to paperwork.’
Pet searched on her phone for a few moments. ‘In or out of town?’
‘Maybe just out. We need some time to plan our next move, and I’d like some breathing space. We don’t know if we are being looked for by anyone; in fact we don’t know anything at all. We can’t locate Mike or Rudy. I don’t like any of this; we need a base so you can do some work on trying to find Mike.’
After a few more minutes Pet nodded. ‘Okay, here is a place. Head to Krupac, south of the city, and I’ll direct you. I’ll reserve a room online.’
‘Krupac?’ Tom said, something in his voice.
‘Sure. Problem?’
‘No. No problem. I just remember it from growing up. There was a small wrestling club there; my father took me there for lessons and practice a couple of times. I know the way, I think.’ Tom said, his voice flat.
‘Is that okay? I can find somewhere else,’ Pet looked at him with a touch of concern.
‘It’s fine. It’s very quiet there.’ In reality he felt some unease, vivid memories beginning to seep into his consciousness despite the passage of almost thirty years. He had been concentrating on matters at hand until now, but travelling out of the city towards his childhood home, a place that held so many memories—both good and bad—was beginning to resonate. It didn’t feel like home; it felt odd and remote, despite the seething memories of a childhood spent here.
The traffic was heavy in central Sarajevo, but began to thin as they exited the city towards Krupac. Memories assaulted Tom at almost every mile as the scenery flew past, becoming more mountainous as they left the city. He searched his mind, trying to gauge his feelings about returning to such a familiar landscape after all those years. Nothing had changed apart from the fact that there were more cars and less tanks and military vehicles. As was often the case, he felt blank and empty. Was this normal? he wondered. How could visiting his homeland after all those years away evoke no emotions in him? He shook his head to remove the thoughts; they were pointless.
Twenty minutes later they pulled off the main road towards the edge of a forest, where they found a quaint guest house that resembled a cuckoo clock, nestling on the side of a steep hill. A small swimming pool lay to the front of the property on a terrace that stretched out towards a stunning view of the distant mountains.
‘Man, this is nice! How can it be this nice and this cheap? It’s only thirty euros a night,’ said Pet.
‘It’s a bit off the tourist trail. People can’t forget the war yet, despite the passage of time.’ This had occurred to Tom as he travelled through the lush, verdant countryside leading up to the mountains. Bosnia was a stunningly beautiful country, but memories were long and the passage of time was short. How long would it take before tourists saw Sarajevo for what it is, not what it once was?
‘Maybe soon, Tom.’
‘Come on. Let’s get in there, we have work to do. Maybe let me do the talking, if I stick to Serb with her it may attract less attention.
‘Best we look like we are a couple, then. There was only one room left, so we are sharing,’ Pet said, taking Tom’s arm.
‘I guess so,’ Tom said, feeling a slight prickle of unease at her touch. He had to admit that, if they wanted to arouse the least attention, then posing as a couple would be the most normal situation to present.
The owner met them at the door with a beaming smile. She was a gamine, slim and attractive woman in her forties with smiling eyes and a short, choppy haircut.
‘Hello and welcome, I am Emina and this is my place,’ she said in halting English. ‘I am pleased to have you here. Can I have someone take your bags?’ She nodded towards the rucksack and shoulder bag that Pet was lugging.
