Olivium Outlet Centre
Zeytinburnu District
Istanbul, Turkey
17 March 2010
When you have to disappear, the best place to disappear is inside a crowd.
Cleena’s father had taught her that when she was twelve and she’d started carrying guns for him to sell on the streets. That had been back when Ryan MacKenna had been working hand-to-mouth on the street in Boston’s Combat Zone. He’d sold weapons by the piece in those days, and often Cleena had carried them for him.
She’d learned how to run and hide during those days, and she’d become one of the best at it. No one had ever caught her, not the police and not other street gangs. She’d had a mental map of all the alleys and rooftops that afforded some measure of concealment and paths to safety. She’d ducked through tight places slick as a rat, and flew from rooftop to rooftop like one of the pigeons.
As soon as she’d quit Lourds and the robed strangers, she’d headed into the Zeytinburnu District. She’d been to Istanbul before, procuring weapons, and knew the area well enough. The neighbourhood was hard and hungry. During the day, quick-footed boys stole purses and wallets from tourists adventurous or ill-informed enough to come into the neighbourhood in search of vice. At night, the prostitutes and street-corner hustlers came out to ply their trades in the shadows. In the beginning, Zeytinburnu had been home to the leather industry in Turkey. That coastal area had been called Kazlicesme, after a famous stone fountain featuring a carved goose. These days, the goose was gone and so was the leather industry, but a mixed stew of Greeks, Bulgarians, Jews, Turks and Armenians still eked out a living there. Despite the difference in culture and dialect, Cleena knew she spoke the same language as the rough men and women working the streets. And she knew a lot about the struggling middle class living the straight life. Every metropolitan city had an underbelly like this one.
She’d bought clothing from a second-hand store and was now dressed in American jeans that mostly fit her, a pastel grey pullover that looked new, work boots and a quilted jacket. Wraparound sunglasses hid her eyes and she’d tucked her flaming red hair up under a black watch cap.
She carried a Czech 9mm pistol in the back of her waistband where she could get to it quickly if she needed to. A quick visit to a gun dealer she knew had netted her a clean pistol, with the understanding that the one she’d used as part of the payment was too hot to sell as it was.
Now you just make your arrangements and blow this pop stand, Cleena told herself as she strode through the Olivium Outlet Centre. Throngs of people surrounded her as she walked through the shopping mall. Four stories tall, and huge, the mall housed well over one hundred shops these days. Many of them carried named brands from the United States and Great Britain. There were theatres, a supermarket and several fast-food restaurants.
Cleena found a cyber café and purchased time on a card. She gave a false name and false identification to secure the computer.
Selecting one of the computers near the window that looked out over the wall, Cleena logged on and brought up the phone server her sister used. Brigid was for ever texting her friends. Cleena had learned how to text, but she didn’t except rarely. She’d preferred since childhood not to leave trails.
At the server, she checked the text log of the pre-paid cell phone she’d purchased in the airport. She’d ditched that phone when she’d dumped her clothes, and bought another phone in the mall.
Normally there were only occasional messages from Brigid. This time there were fourteen. All of them said the same thing.
CALL ME.
Cleena could almost hear the panic in her sister’s voice. She cancelled the session, dumped the access card in the basket, and left the shop.
Returning to the ground floor, Cleena took up a post near an escalator bank that allowed her an escape route in both directions. She watched the crowd, looking through the individuals to spot independent predatory approaches. She kept her jacket loose so she could easily reach the pistol. There were too many people looking for Professor Lourds or the manuscript that he’d taken.
She took the pre-paid cell phone out and dialled the number of the clean phone she’d given Brigid before leaving Boston. Cleena made herself breathe.
The phone rang once, twice, then three times.
Answer! Cleena almost cried out loud. Her mind filled with images of horrible things that could have happened to her sister. Memories of her father’s torn and bloody body still haunted her dreams.
The phone rang a fourth time.
People went about their business all round her with maddeningly carefree attitudes. She wanted to move, to pace, to be in motion and not stand there waiting for no news.
Then Brigid finally answered the phone. ‘Hello?’
From that single word, Cleena knew how frightened her sister was. Brigid was always happy-go-lucky. And if she wasn’t, she was whiny and sarcastic and near-insufferable. It was what younger sisters were, after all.
‘Hello.’ Cleena heard the tight scratchiness of her voice.
‘Are you all right?’
Cleena kept her eyes moving. Now that she’d made contact with her sister, it was possible that someone could already be tracking the connection through a GPS satellite.
‘I’m fine. How’s the bird?’ The question was a code Cleena had established to ensure that Brigid was alone.
‘Forget about the code,’ Brigid angrily. ‘Something has happened that you need to know. I’ve been waiting for hours to get in contact with you.’
‘I haven’t been able to get to the phone. Tell me about the bird.’
‘There isn’t time to-’
‘To what?’ Cleena snapped. ‘Be careful? If you’re freaked, then this sounds like the perfect time to be careful.’
Brigid cursed at the other end of the connection. She never did that. Cleena forced herself to remain calm and focused. They had safety procedures built in for a purpose. She and their father had lived by them.
‘Jughead,’ Brigid said. ‘There. Are you happy?’
They’d had a bird, a dove, and they’d named it after a popular comic book character they’d liked. They’d loved the bird, but one day Brigid had brought a stray cat home. When they’d come back to the apartment from school, the cat had knocked Jughead’s cage onto the floor and killed it. Only its head and feet were left. Brigid had cried for days, but she’d never forgotten that Jughead was safer alone. When a stranger was in the house, or near, all of them were at risk.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Someone came to the bar last night. He threatened me. And then he hurt me.’
Swiftly, Cleena bottled the rage that swelled within her. A hot mind is only a danger to itself, girlie, her father had told her over and over. You save that anger for when you need it. But before you use it, you make sure it’s gone cold and hard. That’s when it’ll be dangerous to someone else, not you.
‘Are you all right?’ Cleena asked.
‘No, I’m not all right. I don’t know who this guy was. He came into the bar, waited till I was alone, then he slapped me.’
‘He slapped you? Nothing more?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nothing broken?’
‘No, nothing’s broken. But he did break Liam’s nose when Liam tried to stop the guy from hitting me.’
Cleena tried to remember who Liam was. Brigid was always talking about friends and co-workers and young men. It was hard to keep them all straight.
‘My boss,’ Brigid said.
‘Right,’ Cleena said. ‘Got him now. Remember: no names.’
‘This guy already knows your name.’
‘Someone else might not. Take a breath and calm down.’
Brigid sucked in a ragged breath.
‘Do you know who this guy was?’ Cleena asked.
‘No.’
‘Ever seen him before?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You need to be sure,’ Cleena said.
‘I don’t know! A lot of people come to the bar.’
‘So he looked like a regular?’
Brigid was quiet for a moment. ‘No. He was a little too clean. Too straight. Except for when he started wailing away on me.’
‘What did he want?’
‘You.’
‘Why?’ Cleena asked.
‘He didn’t say.’
Cleena forced herself to be calm. ‘What did this guy say?’
‘He told me he wanted you to call him. He left a number.’
‘Give it to me.’ Cleena quickly copied the number on the receipt from the second-hand store. ‘Don’t go back to the apartment.’
‘I didn’t. I’m not going to. If this guy knows I’m your sister and where I work, he probably knows where we live, too.’
‘That’s right. Keep thinking clearly like that and we’re going to be all right. Are you somewhere safe?’
‘Yes. I’m at-’
Cleena interrupted. ‘Don’t tell me. It might be a good idea for you to stay away from work for a while. You’re too vulnerable there.’
‘I can’t miss work. I like that job.’
‘I know.’
‘And I know money is tight,’ Brigid went on. ‘The only time you ever go out of town like this is when money is tight. And tuition is coming up soon.’
‘There’ll be enough money,’ Cleena said. Even if she had to rip off a few drug dealers in the Combat Zone, she’d make it. ‘I promise. In the meantime, I want you to be safe.’
‘What about you?’
Cleena felt the weight of the Czech pistol at her back and scanned the mall crowd. ‘I’m safe enough, girlie.’
‘You sound like Dad when you call me that.’
‘Sorry.’
Brigid’s voice grew softer. ‘It’s okay. I don’t really mind. It’s just that when you do that I know you’re thinking about him, and you never think about him unless there’s serious trouble.’
‘I’d say a man coming to your work and slapping you is pretty serious,’ Cleena said. And if it wasn’t serious before, it is now. She tamped down the rage inside her, cooled it and held it tight.
‘There’s something else,’ Brigid stated more quietly.
‘What?’
‘This guy, he said if you didn’t call him, he was going to kill me.’
Cleena made herself count to ten. The anger and fear had almost gotten away from her.
‘Are you still there?’ Brigid asked.
‘I am. Don’t worry. I’m going to call him.’
‘Okay, but then I’m going to have to worry about you.’
‘It’ll be all right,’ Cleena made herself say in a light, almost worry-free tone. ‘It’s probably just a client that got a little overzealous.’
‘If that’s the case, it might be better if you never dealt with him again.’
‘I won’t. I can promise you that.’ Cleena focused on the task at hand. ‘For now, you need to get rid of that phone. I’m getting rid of this one as well, so this number will no longer work.’
‘We go to backup?’
‘Yes.’ Backup was computer contact only through ads placed on popular exchange lists.
‘Are you sure?’ Brigid asked in a much smaller voice that betrayed a lot of the fear she was undoubtedly feeling.
‘That everything’s going to be all right?’
‘Yes.’
Cleena answered instantly and smoothly. ‘I’m perfectly sure.’ But her heart was beating much faster than it should have been.
‘Love you,’ Brigid said.
‘Love you too, kiddo.’ Cleena made herself break the connection. Tears misted her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. She checked the crowd again, saw nothing suspicious, and walked to the nearest trash bin. She dropped the phone into the container and kept walking.
Just keep breathing, she told herself. Keep breathing and keep focused. Whoever hurt Brigid, whoever threatened her, you’re going to make them pay.
After buying another pre-paid cell phone inside the mall, Cleena dialled the number Brigid had provided. The exchange was in Istanbul, which didn’t make much sense. Why would anyone go to Boston to threaten Brigid if they were already in Istanbul?
The phone rang only once.
‘Ah, Ms MacKenna, I knew you’d be calling, but I really expected you to call me much earlier.’
‘I’ve been busy,’ Cleena retorted. ‘And if you mention names again, I’m hanging up.’
That seemed to catch the man at the other end of the connection by surprise. Cleena took advantage of the pause to listen for noises at the other end. The voice sounded American, and much too full of himself to be anyone’s peon. Whoever the man was, he was used to having and using power.
‘Listen,’ the man said in a much harsher voice, ‘this is going to be done my way-’
‘No,’ Cleena replied. She gazed out of the windows up at the sky and tried to pretend this was a day like any other.
‘Did your sister tell you what I promised I’d do to her if-’
‘Spare me.’ Cleena checked her watch. ‘You have another minute and twenty-three seconds till I hang up.’
‘If I wanted to track this call, it would already be done.’
‘You work with a United States intelligence agency then? You have to in order to make that claim and not even feign false modesty.’
The man didn’t speak.
‘Not only that,’ Cleena said, ‘you’re a desk jockey. A paper pusher. You’re a mouse playing at being a lion.’ She knew that pushing his buttons was dangerous, but it was also the only way she knew to find out more about him.
He cursed her.
‘See how easy this is to play?’ Cleena asked. ‘The more you talk, the more I’m going to learn about you. And the more you can be sure that one day – when you least expect it – I’m going to walk in behind you and slit your throat for threatening my sister.’
‘You don’t call the shots here,’ the man said.
‘I do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting there waiting on me to call. And you’ve got twenty-nine seconds to bring this to a close.’
‘Your sister-’
‘Already couldn’t be in any more danger, so don’t even bother trying to up that particular ante.’ Cleena made herself sound cold. She was good at that. Even her father had been impressed. ‘Seventeen seconds.’
‘You cost me a team,’ the man snarled.
‘Those oafs at the airport? Please.’ Cleena waited for the man to deny the charge. If he didn’t, she could try tracing those dead men back to their master. She was already certain she was looking at an American intelligence agency, so she felt sure the task wouldn’t take too long.
‘So you’re going to be my team now.’
Bingo, Cleena thought triumphantly. There is a connection I can exploit.
‘Eight seconds,’ she said.
‘I want you to shadow the man you kidnapped and let me know what he’s up to. You can call me at this number any time of the day or night.’
‘You’re too late. I already lost him.’
‘The Istanbul police department currently has him. I suggest you get over there and pick him up.’
‘If you know so much, why do you need me?’
‘Go. Play nice. If you do, your kid sister gets to see her next birthday.’
But you won’t, Cleena promised herself. Not unless it’s coming up really soon.
‘It would help me if I knew what makes him so important,’ she said.
‘They say curiosity killed the cat. In this case, it could get your sister killed. Pay attention to your assignment. Call me the minute you have news, and call me at least every twelve hours. I know you won’t be keeping this phone, so I won’t try calling you.’
The man hung up and the dial tone buzzed in Cleena’s ear. She squeezed the telephone so hard that it broke in her grip. She forced herself to breathe out, then took the escalator down to the first floor. She never broke stride as she walked to the front of the mall. Her mind was fully engaged. If she was going to be staying in Istanbul for a while longer, she needed more supplies.
But most of all she needed information. And she knew where to get it.
Stone Goose Apartments
Zeytinburnu District
Istanbul, Turkey
17 March 2010
‘Sevki, open up.’ Cleena banged again on the weathered door with her fist. It was only 10.37 a.m., much too early for the man she had come to see.
The apartment was deep in the heart of the Zeytinburnu District, on the sixth floor of a building that had seen much better times long ago. Rickety metal stairs zigzagged along the side of the building. Cleena thought they shivered much worse than they had the last time she’d come calling. Even then she’d been worried that the stairs might completely fall off the building while she ascended them. The bottom floor of the building had once been a textile factory but now served as a way station for homeless people.
No identifying markings existed on the door. Cleena knew that Sevki hadn’t moved, though. Although the other renters didn’t know it, Sevki owned the building. That fact was hidden through a small series of shell holding companies.
‘You better off come back,’ a screeching voice said.
Turning slightly, her hand already dropping under her coat to grip the Czech pistol, Cleena looked across the alley to a neighbouring apartment building. There in the shadows, a little old woman sat on a narrow window sill with her feet on the landing, smoking a cigarette. Her dress was faded and looked brittle, but it was clean.
‘That one,’ the old woman continued, ‘he no get up in morning. Sleep all day, that one.’
‘Thank you,’ Cleena said. ‘But I think I’m going to try anyway.’ She waved, then turned back to the door. This time she kicked it, hard.
A harsh flurry of curse words in a mixture of languages grew louder as someone approached the door. A moment later, a brown eye peered through the peephole.
‘Oh my God,’ a male voice groaned. ‘Go away. Come back at a more decent hour.’
‘Sevki, let me in before I break the door down.’ Cleena kicked the door again, harder.
‘God, have you no decency, woman?’
‘None, nor shame either. Let me in, Sevki, or you’ll think the three little pigs got off easily.’
‘As I recall, the three little pigs won.’
‘Not in my world.’
Sevki shot the bolts, seven of them, and opened the door. It was heavy and swung on well-oiled hinges. Beneath the aged wooden veneer was a metal core thick enough to withstand bullets and low-yield grenades. Sevki believed in security.
‘Is anyone with you?’ he asked. He stuck his head out and glanced along the walk.
Cleena slapped him on the back of the head. ‘It’s stupid to stick your head out like that. Someone will shoot it off.’
‘No, no, no, no one will shoot my head off. I knew you were here, and I knew you were alone. I took your advice and put in a precautionary measure.’ Sevki pointed at the building across the alley. ‘Look along the rooftop under the eaves.’
When Cleena did, she spotted the small camera mounted there.
‘Wireless feed,’ Sevki explained. ‘I see what it sees on my computer.’
‘Very well done.’
Sevki grinned like a kid. He stood a little taller than Cleena and was lanky. His black hair was thick and in obvious disarray. Blue highlights showed on the ends. He wore olive cargo khakis and a black flannel T-shirt sporting a costumed superhero with a glowing ring under a green shirt. Round-lensed glasses softened his narrow face.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,’ he said.
‘A few months,’ Cleena agreed.
‘Five months, three weeks and two days.’
Cleena wasn’t surprised that he knew that. Sevki had a phenomenal mind, which was what had originally brought her to him.
‘You look well,’ he said. ‘Life has been good?’
‘I’m in trouble.’
Some of the carefree attitude slid from Sevki’s face. ‘What kind of trouble?’
‘The bad kind. The kind you don’t know how bad it really is until it’s on you.’
‘And it’s on you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Has any of this bad kind of trouble followed you here?’
‘No. I’m sure of that.’
Sevki stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Come in.’