Chapter 8

EIGHT

Harry was quiet as he drove the Jeep, letting Asher get his thoughts together and his anger in check. The Daris that Ivan had referred to was none other than Asher's friend, the guy he'd been at the orphanage with, at the training school with.

The guy who, just one day ago, had told Asher he lived a clean life now.

The guy who Asher had trusted. The guy who had hugged Asher, looked him right in the eye, and lied to him.

If Asher didn't kill him, Harry would have no problem doing it.

They'd left Ivan at his storage warehouse, alive, and with no misunderstanding about his expected silence. Harry doubted he'd be any trouble; he acted like some smooth-talking big-time dealer and nightclub owner, but he was so close to crapping himself the whole time, Harry had to wonder how he'd managed to do any business dealings at all .

Asher looked up from his phone and nodded ahead. "Turn right at the next block."

This was a residential part of the city. A nice part too. Pretty houses, leafy streets. And as the sun was breaking over the horizon, daylight was beckoning. Harry would have called it serene.

A far cry from what it was about to be for Daris.

"Number eighty-five," Asher said. "On the left."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I'll be a whole lot better after this," Asher replied quietly.

Harry pulled up right out front, noting the kid's bicycle by the garage. "Seems he didn't lie about having a kid," Harry said.

It was his way of reminding Asher that there was a kid inside, though he wasn't entirely sure Asher cared. Not this time. He kinda shrugged. "Good. Leverage." Then he took the Scorpion pistol, loaded the clip, and slid it into the waistband of the back of his jeans, easily concealed by his coat.

"There's an alarm system," Harry said, nodding to the sensor on the eave outside. "And a power box. I'll pull the circuit."

Asher nodded, and they slipped out of the Jeep. Harry went to the side of the garage, lifted the lid to the power box, and switched the power and light breakers off.

He went back to the front door where Asher stood, leaning against the entry way, casual as ever, waiting...

And sure enough, a few moments later, a still half-asleep Daris pulled the front door open, grumbling to himself about the power. Asher grabbed the door, swung it out, and Harry stepped in and grabbed Daris by his pyjama shirt and forced him back inside .

"Shoulda locked your power box," Harry said, walking a flailing Daris backwards down a short hall to a kitchen. He kicked a chair at the table and sat Daris's ass on it.

Daris was pale. Harry towered over him, and Asher leaned down, smiling as if he'd been invited for breakfast. "Good morning, Daris," Asher said cheerfully.

Daris shook his head. "Please, not here. My daughter... my wife... I'll go with you. Just leave them alone. They don't need to see this."

"Oh, Daris," Asher said mournfully, his hand to his heart. "I appreciate the resignation to your fate. But I don't give one fuck about them."

Daris shifted in his seat, paler now, his mouth working, but no words came out. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to get involved... I didn't?—"

"Imagine my surprise when our friend Ivan ?osi? spilled all your secrets," Asher said, still using that sweet voice that was kinda terrifying.

Daris shook his head. "I didn't want to get involved, Asher. You have to believe me. I tried to make you ask questions about why, not who. You don't want to be involved with these people, you have to understand."

"Understand what? That you're in bed with the ZBK? A group of terrorists. Makes sense now when you said some folks around here don't care about borders. A group of fucking terrorists who believe in the old days?—"

Indignation flashed in Daris's eyes. "They're not terrorists?—"

"Oh, so you're a sympathiser," Asher said, pulling his gun out. He kept it on his thigh but Daris's eyes went wide. "Explain, Daris. You have three seconds."

"For what this country did to me," he said. "What they did to you. How can you not hate them? How can you not want them to pay?"

"I don't blame a whole country," Asher said. "I blame people. I blame individuals, Daris. And right now I'm looking at you. When I asked if you could get me weapons, you lied to me."

"I didn't . . . I can't . . . Asher, please."

"Start talking faster," Asher hissed.

"I didn't want you to know about them," he whispered. "And I don't want them to know about you." He shook his head. "If they knew I knew you, if I did a deal with you..."

"They'd what? Kill you?" Asher asked. "Did you think your deals with them would end any other way? Christ, how are you so stupid? You set up a legit business only to cater to factions that run guns and drugs. Do you transport everything for them? Tell me, do you transport people too?"

"It's not like that," he whispered.

"Bullshit," Asher snapped. "When I asked you if you'd heard anything about my friend who was kidnapped, you said no," Asher said. His voice was calm but the grip on his pistol told Harry otherwise. "But Ivan told me everything. Leaked like a sieve, Daris. Now I'm gonna ask you again. Where is Yunho? If I find out you had anything to do with transporting him, you're gonna need a new definition for pain. What those assholes did to us in Turkey will be a fucking walk in the park."

"I don't know," he replied, shaking his head. "I don't know."

Asher put the pistol to Daris's forehead. "Wrong answer."

"I don't know, Asher," he said again. He was teary now and sweating. He shrank back, a pitiful excuse. "I promise."

Harry kicked Daris's leg. "Sit up straight. If you're gonna get shot in the head, have some respect for yourself and look him in the fucking eye when he does it." Daris sat up and Harry towered over him again. "I should rip your tongue out for lying to him the first time. I don't need a second time. I will do it right here, and you will bleed to death on your kitchen floor. Now answer his fucking question and do not lie to him."

"I don't know where he is," Daris said, almost crying. "But I know who took him. Vadik Istomin. He's from Moscow. He's some political army head, but he's based in Belgrade. He has some kid working for him who's some genius computer hacker. He's the one who found Yunho. Once they got a location, Istomin sent in a team of guys to extract Yunho. They're Russian mercenaries, ex-black-ops. They're the real deal."

"And how do you know this, Daris?" Asher asked. "How involved are you?"

He shook his head. "I know because..." his face fell. "Because Radovic works for him."

Asher went stock still, even a little pale. "Radovic? How the fuck is he not dead yet?"

Daris nodded, shook his head, and shrugged, all at the same time. "He joined the army, found his calling there. He was a sick fuck. Still is. Asher, I'm so sorry."

Harry had no idea who Radovic was, but it changed something in Asher.

"And the three men who came for us?" Asher asked quietly.

"ZBK." Daris shrugged. "They weren't... they weren't pros. "

"They were pathetic," Asher said. "And stupid. And now they're very dead. And I showed you that photo and you recognised them, or the tattoo, and you lied to me."

"I didn't want you to get involved," he said, shaking his head. "You have to believe me. I didn't want you to see any of this. But then you came here, asking about them, and I knew you'd find out I was involved. You have to believe me. It never started out with them or what they stood for. It was?—"

"About the money," Asher said. "It's always about the money. Blah blah blah, I don't give a fuck. Tell me how I find Istomin."

"You don't. No one does."

"I absolutely will," Asher replied.

"He's based in Belgrade, but if that's where they took Yunho, I don't know, I swear."

Asher sighed. "The ZBK leader. I need a name."

Daris sobbed pathetically. God, how Harry wanted to kill him already.

"Josip Rozga," Daris mumbled.

Asher sighed. "And? What else do I need to know?"

"He's going to kill me," Daris whispered.

"The moment you went into business with him was the day you sealed that fate," Harry said. "It's no one's fault but yours."

He nodded pathetically, but then he looked at Asher. "He has three men with him at all times. They're his lieutenants. The one with red hair, he's the one you have to watch. He can fight."

Just then, there was a noise from upstairs. A door opening and soft voices. Daris shook his head quickly, his eyes wide and full of pleading.

A female voice said something about the power in Bosnian. Harry could hear her trying the light switches. "Daris? There's no power."

Then a woman appeared, wearing a nightgown, her hair in a messy ponytail. She stopped cold, and when a small girl appeared behind her, the woman kept her hands out to stop the girl from seeing. "Daris," she whispered.

"It's okay," he said, trying to smile. "These are some friends of mine."

"Old friends," Asher said, smiling. "We were in the orphanage and training school together, which I'm sure he told you all about." He patted the table, the pistol back on his thigh, hidden from view. "Come in, take a seat at the table."

Daris gave a wild look at Asher before he tried smiling again for his wife and daughter. The woman kept her gaze on Harry and kept her daughter behind her as she edged to a seat at the table. She sat down and pulled her daughter into her lap, holding her tight.

Cute kid with messy brown hair and pink sparkly pyjamas, and Harry hoped this didn't go pear-shaped.

God, he hated when there were kids involved.

Then Asher spoke in Bosnian and Harry missed a lot of it. He picked out a few words here and there; orphanage, six years old, training.

The wife was staring at Daris as Asher spoke, and Harry got the feeling she knew nothing about his past.

Daris was pale, his hands were shaking.

Then Asher spoke in English. For Harry's benefit, or if the kid didn't speak English and Asher didn't want her to hear, Harry wasn't sure.

"I'm surprised," he said. "After everything we went through, after everything we swore we'd get away from, when we were no bigger than your daughter is right now, that you'd bring that life into your own house where your wife and daughter sleep. You deserve everything that's coming for you, Daris, but they don't. If you weren't so selfish you'd send them somewhere far away. You have no security here. We came in through your front door, Daris. Your front goddamn door. Your house alarm is wired into your main power, and you got a kid's bike in the front yard, so anyone who wants to hurt you knows he's got leverage. Did you learn nothing?"

Daris scrubbed at an errant tear, shook his head, and said nothing.

"Tell me something helpful, Daris," Asher said. "I'm running out of reasons to stay."

He shrugged, hopeless. "I don't know. Rozga has a chapter meeting every Wednesday at ten o'clock, at his compound. There'll be twenty or so men there. It's out of town, on the R446. He arrives in the final convoy of three vehicles. Middle car, at exactly ten o'clock, every time."

Asher smiled at him. "Now that is helpful, thank you." He stood up and both Daris and his wife's eyes went to the pistol he slid into his waistband. Her hold on their daughter tightened, shielding her tiny face, chin wobbling.

"We'll be going now," Asher said cheerfully. "Daris, walk us out."

Asher and Harry waited for Daris to stand. He did so, reluctantly. His legs seemed a little shaky and his wife was now crying.

Harry felt sorry for them. Not that they'd entered her house and upset her. He was sorry that she had no clue who her husband was, or who he was doing business with.

When they got to the front door, Asher spun on Daris and pushed him against the wall, his forearm to Daris's neck, the pistol pressed to the side of Daris's head. "I should shoot you right now," he whispered. "It goes against my better judgement to leave you breathing. But I promise you, if I hear your name uttered one more time in any fucking circle, I will kill you, your wife, and your daughter. Do you under-fucking-stand?"

Daris nodded, chin wobbling.

Then Asher spat a string of Slavic obscenities at him, gave his throat one last hard shove, sending him wheezing to the floor.

Harry and Asher walked back out to the Jeep. Asher was livid, Harry could tell. "Feel better?"

"No," Asher seethed. "I really want to kill something."

"Good. Because that's what we're going to do."

The compound headquarters were twelve kilometres out of the city on the R446 highway to the Mount Trebevi? region. The tree-covered mountains were popular with hikers in summer, skiers in winter; there were resorts and hotels dotted throughout.

"And tunnels," Asher said. "The War Tunnels. All through the mountains, but I think the mines are all cleared now."

Harry shot him a look. "Mines? Gold mines? Tin, copper? Or landmines?"

Asher snorted. "Landmines."

"You know they're cleared, or you think they are?"

"Supposedly all cleared. Jeez, Harry. I can't personally verify."

Harry sighed. Landmines. Awesome.

"From the map," Asher said, zooming in on the screen. " Their compound has one tunnel to the north of their property."

"Are they usable? These tunnels?"

"For storage, maybe. Hard to say. A lot of them were closed or collapsed."

Harry nodded, considering this. "We should watch them. I know they have a meeting in—" He checked his watch. "—two and a half hours, but?—"

"No," he replied flatly. "We find our best position and take everyone out before we get Rozga."

"We need to be able to question him."

Asher shrugged. "So we kill him last."

Well, Harry allowed, at least Asher wasn't suggesting they go bursting in through the front gates, guns blazing.

Finding their best position in a wooded, mountainous region with numerous hiking trails and parking bays was easy. Especially given the compound was secluded, had a lower elevation, and cleared vegetation around the building. From what Harry could find online, their compound was once a wellness-retreat-type place with one large hall. It was a wooden cabin style construction, and there was a newer, large outbuilding near the line of the woods.

And looking through the rifle scope, the difference between the Google Map view and the one they had now wasn't that much. The trees were thicker, taller, but not much else had changed.

They were three hundred metres away, atop a small ridge that sloped down, with the cover of heavy trees.

Until the firing started, that was.

Then they'd have to move down to the compound for closer contact and to grab Rozga. When it was all over, they'd need to retrace their steps, back up the mountain to the Jeep in the hiker's parking lot .

Harry felt useless and restless while Asher set his rifle up, lying on his belly, adjusting everything to perfection. He knew better than to pace or wander, so he sat his ass down and ran through some observations while Asher fine-tuned his rifle.

"The drive into the compound is approximately eight hundred metres from the road. There doesn't seem to be any cameras outside. Not that I can see, anyway. There's an old power box on the telegraph pole twenty metres to the southwest of the main building. A single gas tank outside the main building, under what looks like a kitchen window."

"I see it," Asher said quietly.

Harry studied him for a long moment. "How does it feel?"

Asher had been adjusting every turret cap on the rifle with the precision of a surgeon. He kept his eye to the eyepiece and smiled. "It feels good. Temperature's good, low humidity, no breeze." Then he paused, looked at Harry for a second as if he was contemplating his next words, then put his eye back to the scope. "It's been a long time since I've sighted in on a live target. I thought part of me might find it difficult..."

"And?"

"And I wish I could say I did."

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. There really wasn't anything he could say. This was the mental tug of war they played. The separation of guilt, the detachment from humanity to get the job done. "We do what we have to do," Harry said eventually.

Asher nodded and moved back from the rifle. "What you have to do is set up the 36s and go get into position. We should be expecting company at any time now. "

"I could stay here with you," he tried. "I don't like the idea of being separated from you."

Asher made a face. "Awww, that's so sweet." Then he shoved Harry's shoulder. "And fucking stupid."

Harry sighed and snatched up the G36. "Fine."