Tracer, page 4
Sardoca shared a glance with Natasha and reached for the other pipe. He unwrapped a mouthpiece, placed it on one of the hoses, and began to suck the aromatic vapour into his lungs. He blew out a huge cloud of smoke and watched it rise up to the ceiling fans.
‘Let’s assume you are right,’ Sardoca said. ‘For the most part.’
‘Then the next obvious question would be what exactly is it you want found?’
‘A missing shipment of caviar.’
Korso snorted. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘Why not? Have you any idea how much six crates are worth?’
‘Peanuts,’ Korso said. ‘Nothing. Zero. Considering Nikolic’s net worth was close to a billion dollars when I was with him, and I can only assume his fortune has grown exponentially over the years. What kind of caviar are we talking about?’
‘Obviously not the fresh kind, but still top of the line. Tell him, Natasha.’
‘It is White Pearl Albino Sturgeon caviar,’ she said, cleaning her mouthpiece with a napkin. ‘Very rare, very exclusive. Pasteurised, so good for another six months or more. All in one-kilogram tins, each tin worth approximately three thousand US dollars wholesale. Two hundred and forty tins per crate. Six crates in total.’
Korso made a quick calculation. ‘Which makes four million three hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Like I said, pocket change to a man like Nikolic. It can’t be just that.’ He raised a hand. ‘But let’s put all that aside for the moment. You seem pretty certain I’ll recover this shipment for you.’
‘Well, you’ve built up a sizeable reputation over the years for doing just that.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘I know.’ Sardoca smiled. ‘Shall we talk about the photos? They were just a small sample, of course. I have many more of you in Switzerland and a few more of you here, all safely stored in the clouds and just a simple mouse click away from being released publicly if I wish to do so. If Mr Nikolic saw them, which I can pretty much guarantee he would, he might not believe at first, but it would not take long for him to see the true face beneath your new one. He would stop at nothing until you were brought to him, and you know the kind of resources at his disposal. And how painful it would be for you in the end.’
Korso knew. It was why he’d arranged his own death in the first place. Nikolic was the most ruthless crime lord in Eastern Europe, with fingers in every pie and connections in every corner of the globe, even though most of the world didn’t even know he existed. He’d never been arrested for a crime, and there were no photos of him in existence anywhere, which was almost unheard of in this day and age. But loyalty came above all else to him, and he would do anything to get his hands on Korso if he knew he was still alive. Anything. Fake passports and plastic surgery wouldn’t be much help against that kind of pressure.
‘That’s interesting,’ Korso said.
‘What is?’ Sardoca said, frowning.
‘You mentioned the resources at Nikolic’s disposal, and I agree. They’re practically limitless. But it does raise the question of why he isn’t utilising them to find this alleged caviar shipment instead of his lieutenant. You are his lieutenant, aren’t you?’
‘One of them. As you well know.’
‘There you go. It doesn’t fit. Clearly, if Nikolic considers this missing shipment important enough that he assigns its recovery to one of his few trusted employees, then it obviously contains something else besides fish eggs.’ He splayed his hand. ‘So what is it?’
Natasha and Sardoca glanced at each other. After a couple of seconds, she shrugged one shoulder and he gave a single nod of agreement in return.
‘One of the tins in that shipment,’ she said, ‘is not like the others.’
‘I’m shocked. So what does it contain instead?’
Sardoca gave a sigh, and said, ‘Something called the Tiger’s Tears.’
Seven
‘Very enigmatic,’ Korso said. ‘And what is this Tiger’s Tears, exactly?’
‘That’s not anything you need to know,’ Sardoca said. ‘It’s enough that the tin contains something valuable belonging to Mr Nikolic, and that he wants it, and the rest of the shipment, found and returned to him as soon as possible.’
Korso studied the man’s face, then smiled. ‘So you don’t know what it is, either.’
Natasha coughed, and quickly covered her mouth. Sardoca ignored her. ‘I told you not to test me, Korso. I hold all the aces here. Don’t ever forget it.’
‘I’ll try to remember. So, assuming I even agree to this assignment, what time frame are you talking about here?’
Sardoca looked at his watch. ‘The deadline’s roughly ninety-six hours from now. That’s Thursday at six o’clock, Bermuda time.’
‘Four days?’ Korso said. ‘Now I know you’re joking. Have you any idea how long it takes me to track down some of the—’
‘Don’t waste time arguing with me,’ Sardoca interrupted. ‘That’s the deadline Mr Nikolic has set. Ninety-six hours from now. No negotiation.’
Korso sighed, knowing it was pointless. ‘And when did he actually set you off on this goose chase?’
‘Ten days ago.’
‘So he actually gave you two weeks, most of which you’ve used up already. Brilliant. And did you make any progress in that time?’
Sardoca just shook his head.
‘It just gets better and better, doesn’t it?’ Korso sighed again. ‘So now I know I’ll be starting basically from scratch, maybe we should discuss my cut.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know how I work, Sardoca. Whatever I find, I get thirty-three per cent of the salvaged item’s market value. And thirty-three per cent of four million three hundred and twenty thousand dollars is one million four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. But since this is kind of a special case, I don’t mind rounding it down to an even million. That’s less than twenty-five per cent.’
Sardoca was already shaking his head. ‘No, no, no, compadre. Other than expenses, this is one job you will do gratis. I don’t need to remind you of the alternative.’
‘No, you don’t.’ Korso indicated his empty plate. ‘Are you paying for this meal?’
‘Sure. I can do that much.’
Korso nodded, drank the last of his iced tea and stood up. ‘Goodbye.’
He slid out and was about to walk when Sardoca grabbed his wrist. Korso stopped and looked down at it. ‘Where are you going?’ Sardoca said.
‘Home to pack. Then the airport. Then elsewhere. I’ll take my chances.’
‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Try me.’
‘You will have no chance at all, Korso. Not with Mr Nikolic after your blood.’
‘Maybe. But I imagine he’ll be after yours too if you don’t recover this shipment he wants so badly.’ He waited. ‘Am I wrong?’
Sardoca stared at him for several beats, then released his wrist. ‘Sit down.’
Korso sat back down. More seconds passed. ‘Well?’
‘All right. You will get your money. Payment on delivery, of course.’
‘Naturally. Which still leaves the matter of the photos.’
‘What about them?’
‘Assuming I’m successful, and that’s a very big assumption at this stage, what’s to stop you from using your hold over me again? Let’s face it, there’s no love lost between us, and in a digital world it’s not like I can demand the negatives back. What guarantee have I got that you won’t get into another fix sometime in the future and decide to blackmail me into solving your problems again? And then again after that?’
‘I appreciate your concerns, but you’ll just have to take my word that I’ll delete them permanently. I know when to keep a bargain. Besides, I assume you will have further surgery done on your face once this is over, making them essentially useless anyway. Correct?’
Korso looked at him. He’d had to bring up the subject, because anyone in his position would be expected to. But he already knew there was only one way to guarantee Sardoca would never try this again. And Sardoca was far from stupid. He had to know that as well.
‘I guess I’ll have to believe you for now,’ Korso said.
‘Excellent.’ Sardoca gave a smug grin. ‘So we are all friends again.’
‘Don’t push it.’
Sardoca took another vape, letting out another thick plume of smoke. ‘One thing I have always been curious about.’
Korso said nothing.
‘I know Jara was never your real name, and Korso certainly isn’t, either. Nor Graves. So what is? The one you were born with, I mean. I’ve always wondered.’
Korso blinked at him. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.’
‘Really? When?’
Before he could answer, Natasha said, ‘At the point of dying?’
Korso turned to her. One side of her mouth was turned up.
‘Yes, I have seen that movie, too,’ she said. ‘Sergio Leone. One of the better westerns.’
Korso gave an appreciative nod, turned back to Sardoca. ‘I like her.’
‘Good, because she’s also going to be with you every step of the way.’
* * *
Korso entered his house for what would be the last time and switched on the lights. ‘Drugs,’ he said.
‘What?’ Natasha said, closing the front door behind her.
She had followed Korso back to Warwick on her own rented scooter. Once Sardoca knew Korso was on board, he’d given Natasha some last-minute instructions, then left them to catch his flight to wherever. Korso hadn’t been sorry to see him go.
‘This Tiger’s Tears,’ he said, dropping his keys on the living room table, ‘is a prototype of some new synthetic designer drug Nikolic has been developing overseas. Seriously addictive, too, would be my guess. Am I close?’
‘What makes you think I would know?’
‘Call it a hunch.’
‘I hope you have better ones,’ she said, looking around the simply furnished room. ‘I am puzzled, though.’
‘About what?’
‘At the restaurant, I expected you to be more… hostile about my coming along.’
‘Well, I could see Sardoca’s mind was already made up, and I felt I’d already pushed him as far as I could. Besides, if I were him I wouldn’t trust me, either.’
‘You’re honest, at least.’
‘Most of the time. So I assume he arranged for you to contact him at pre-arranged times, with particular code phrases to alert him if something’s wrong, such as my holding a gun to your head, for example? Or if I attempt to make a run for it?’
‘Something like that. Why, are you planning to do something stupid? Because you should realise that you’re not un-expendable, and I won’t hesitate to kill you if I must.’
‘That’s useful to know.’ Korso smiled. He much preferred it when everything was laid out in the open like this. ‘But you won’t have to. I’ll see it through, like I said. Also, I have to admit I’m kind of curious. Not that Sardoca has to know that. Let him sweat.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘You two have a strange relationship.’
‘He hates me. I couldn’t care less about him. It seems perfectly straightforward to me. Now I take it you can give me a complete rundown on everything that’s happened up until this moment?’
‘There’s little point in my being here otherwise.’
‘Good. Let’s get started, and try to leave nothing out. The more information I have, the better our chances for success.’ He walked out of the room.
‘Where are you going?’ she said, following him.
‘I’ve a few loose ends to tie up before we leave here. I can do two things at once, sometimes more. You talk, I’ll listen.’ He sat at his office desk, opened his laptop, motioned toward the only other chair in the room. ‘When did this shipment of yours go missing?’
Natasha took a seat, one leg folded under her. ‘March 2. Just over six weeks ago.’
‘And the point of origin?’
‘The Ukraine. The aircraft was a British Aerospace ATP, or Advanced Turbo-Prop, leased by one of Mr Nikolic’s representatives over there. He also used two pilots that we’ve used before. The plane was a modified version of the ATP, with reduced cargo space to allow for twice the normal fuel capacity, enabling the whole journey to be done in two legs. On March 1, it flew from Poltava Airport direct to Eugene F. Correia Airport in Guyana, remaining there for three hours for refuelling while further cargo was also loaded for the final leg to Toronto, Canada. It never reached its destination.’
Korso paused from deleting files. ‘Wait a second. What extra cargo?’
‘Mr Nikolic had also purchased a crate of Geisha coffee from the region and wanted it delivered at the same time.’
‘Geisha coffee. Don’t tell me. From Hacienda La Esmeralda, in Panama.’
‘Yes. You know of it?’
He nodded. ‘In purely financial terms, it’s right up there with Albino Sturgeon caviar. So your boss is based in Toronto now. That’s smart of him. But then he always was.’
‘You approve?’
‘I merely note the fact. For someone in his position, Canada carries all the benefits of an American base of operations, but without the associated disadvantages of actually being in the USA. For example, it’s very easy to get lost in all that space if one wishes. That’s not so easy to do anymore in the States.’
‘So I take it you’re not American, then.’
‘What makes you think I could be?’
‘You sometimes roll your Rs.’
‘So do Spaniards. So do Canadians.’ He smiled. ‘So do you.’
She smiled back. ‘Point taken. Shall we continue? We have much to cover.’
Korso went back to his laptop. ‘I’m all ears.’
Eight
94 hours, 3 minutes and counting…
Natasha was able to bring Korso completely up to date in less than an hour. And all from memory too, which he found impressive.
The essential facts were these:
Two months previous, Nikolic had purchased a large caviar shipment from a black-market supplier in Iran. This supplier was willing to transport the cargo to a contact in the Ukraine, but no further. Nikolic was agreeable to the terms, since he had something else stored in a safe place in Russia that he needed to bring over with the shipment, and this would give him the perfect chance to do so without raising suspicion. But since this mysterious asset was something only a select few knew existed, he needed someone trustworthy to hide it and to ensure the plane took off on schedule.
That person was Natasha.
She oversaw the loading of the initial five crates at Poltava Airport in the Ukraine. She was also the one who was personally handed the asset by one of Nikolic’s Russian contacts, a man named Yuri, who showed up at the airport one hour before the plane was due to take off. He handed her the item, about which he knew nothing, then left. All without saying a word.
‘So I was right,’ Korso said. ‘You do know what it is.’
Natasha shook her head. ‘No. All I was given was a plain, stainless-steel tin with no markings. The dimensions were similar to the caviar tins, only slightly smaller so it would fit inside one easily. It weighed roughly the same, about one kilogram, and was welded shut. The contents didn’t rattle or make any noise when I shook it. I saw no other clues. But I do know it’s coated with a special film containing a faint radioactive residue detectable by any Geiger counter, so I can locate it quickly once we find the shipment.’
‘And you have one of those.’
‘In my flight bag. You can buy them from Amazon.’
‘So tell me, why were you chosen for that particular job, and not Sardoca?’
Natasha frowned. ‘Sardoca has many responsibilities within Mr Nikolic’s organisation, and couldn’t be spared at that time.’
‘And Nikolic trusted you to do it instead?’
‘I don’t believe he trusts anybody. But Sardoca has worked for him for many years and he trusts me, so maybe that swayed Mr Nikolic’s decision. Of course, that’s only guesswork on my part. Why, is it relevant?’
‘I don’t know yet. It’s an anomaly, and they’re generally worth following up. Here’s another one. Why didn’t you travel with the cargo all the way to the end?’
She rubbed at her earlobe again. ‘If you know Mr Nikolic, then you know he likes to compartmentalise assignments so that the left hand rarely knows what the right is doing. Often he uses people who never know they actually work for him, and most of those are not even aware that he exists. In my case, once I’d supervised the loading and secreted the asset in one of the crates, my role was over. Another man was to guard the cargo en route – Anton Borozan. He also body searched me before I left the plane, to make sure I took nothing with me. As I said, Mr Nikolic trusts nobody. As soon as the aircraft took off, I flew in the opposite direction, as I had urgent business in Cambodia.’
‘And who is this Anton Borozan?’
‘One of Sardoca’s men. I recognised him from a previous job. Capable with a gun, but not much imagination. The perfect foot soldier. So as I was saying, the BA ATP took off from Poltava Airport in the morning of March 1, and reached Eugene F. Correia Airport in Guyana seventeen hours later without incident. Once it was on the ground, Borozan and both pilots remained on board while the plane was refuelled for the final leg, and the final crate was loaded into the cargo hold with the others. Again, all without incident.’
‘Allegedly.’ Korso had opened his browser and found a political world map on one of the geology sites. He zoomed in on South America to remind himself of the precise geography. And there was Guyana, sitting atop Brazil on the northeast coast, sandwiched between Venezuela and Suriname. Above it, the numerous islands that made up the Caribbean.
‘What time did it take off from Guyana?’
‘Thirteen minutes past midnight on March 2. Their final radio transmission was logged by Correia air traffic control at 00:37. Just a routine request from the co-pilot for any weather updates. It was clear that night. Not even cloud cover. Then they simply disappeared off the radar at 00:42. That was the last anyone heard from them.’
