“It’s Friday night,” Ellen said to Anna as she packed up her schoolbooks for the weekend. “Let’s do something fun. I’ve worked hard all week.”
“Yes, you have.”
Ellen had forged ahead in math to solving algebra problems, as Anna frantically read the textbook to try to keep up. Finally, Hans had to be consulted. He apparently had better math skills than Anna. Now, every night after dinner, Hans was reluctantly correcting Ellen’s math papers.
Science was an easier subject for everyone. Ellen was studying insects, and despite the cold weather, insects were in ample supply at the farm. Ellen had gone on an insect-gathering field trip – under Jan’s escort to make sure she didn’t wander away – and she had collected her specimens in several jars.
In language arts, Ellen had a real problem. She needed books to read, but there were none at the house and no English bookstores to go to. So, Ellen had taken to writing. She wrote daily in a journal describing her activities and her feelings.
Since Anna had liked history in school, she was an excellent social studies teacher, and this was Ellen’s favorite class. Anna would tell Ellen stories about the different civilizations that she was studying in the textbook and then have Ellen draw pictures or write short stories about the culture. Ellen proudly hung up her pictures in the schoolroom, and kept all of her other homework neatly in binders, ready to turn in to her real school once she returned.
The subject in which Ellen learned the most was Dutch. Although Ellen’s real Dutch teacher had only required Ellen to learn twenty vocabulary words a week, Anna had insisted that Ellen learn twenty a day. Since Anna, Hans, and Jan also spoke Dutch when talking among themselves, Ellen had picked up quite a bit of the language. She couldn’t wait to show her Dutch teacher how much she learned. She was almost through the entire Dutch textbook, and the school year was only half finished.
Ellen had also worked hard this week trying to find another clue that she could pass on to her parents. She finally decided to use the license plate number from the black van that Jan and Hans drove. She still didn’t know where she was, so she thought the license number was the best she could do. She had memorized it by repeating it over and over in her head. Ellen had written some more letters to her parents, but no one would agree to send them. She had to figure out another way.
“Please,” Ellen begged at dinner. “Next week is the end of the quarter at my school. I need to go back there. They’re going to flunk me if I don’t turn in all this schoolwork. I can’t have all F’s on my report card for second quarter of sixth grade. I’m going to go to college, you know. Can I go home next week?”
No one answered her.
Ellen pulled herself up from the table and began washing the dishes. A few minutes later, she heard Hans’ cellular phone ring. He carried it with him all the time, but this was the first time she had heard it ring. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. When he came out, he went into the dining room and said to Ellen, “I think you’ll be going home next week.”
“Really? That’s perfect! I can turn in my homework on time. I can’t wait to see my mom and dad, and my friends. Oh, thank you, Hans.”
She ran over and gave him a big hug.
When she went to bed that night, Ellen couldn’t sleep because of the excitement of knowing that she would be going home soon.
Later in the night, Ellen got up to go to the bathroom. She looked at her clock. It was 3 a.m. They didn’t lock her in her room anymore, so she walked to the bathroom quietly on her own. When she got there, she saw Hans’ cell phone lying on the counter.
Ellen stared at the phone. Should she call her parents? She wanted to so badly. But what if someone heard her? She had only one more week, and she didn’t want to spend it in the basement. What could she tell her parents? She didn’t even know where she was.
The debate raged in Ellen’s mind. She calculated the odds of getting caught. The bathroom was at the end of the hall near her bedroom and away from the other bedrooms where Anna, Hans, and Jan slept. Maybe she could say she had gotten really lonely if she got caught.
Ellen’s instincts were to not break the rules. She was going home anyway, why risk it? She headed back to her bedroom. Just as she walked out of the bathroom, she had an idea. She took the cell phone, put it under her pajamas, and climbed back in bed.
She got under her covers and pulled them and her pillow over her head. She pushed the “on” button to the phone.
A small “beep” sounded. Ellen prayed that the blankets and pillow had muffled the sound. She dialed her home number and willed someone to answer.
Kevin was deep in sleep when he thought he heard the phone ringing. After a moment, he shook himself awake. It was still dark outside. He heard the ring again and raced to the phone in his office. He glanced at the clock. 3:16 a.m. It was either the kidnappers or some inconsiderate fool calling from the United States.
“Hello.”
Kevin heard a soft whisper, “Daddy, it’s me.”
“Ellen! Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Dad. I gotta be quick. I’m on a farm in Utrecht. That’s all I know. They say I’ll be coming home in a week.”
“Can you get away?”
“No, there are no houses around here. And someone is with me all the time.”
“Are you being treated okay?”
“Yeah. I even have a puppy. Her name is Johanna.”
“Ellen, who kidnapped you?”
“Two guys named Hans and Jan, and a lady named Anna. But that’s not their real names. Dad, I gotta go. Write this down. 84 FG SJ. That’s the license number of the van they drive. It’s a black van.”
Kevin scrambled to find some paper. “Give me that again.”
“84 FG SJ”
Kevin repeated it.
“That’s it,” Ellen said. “I gotta go, Dad. I can’t get caught using this cell phone.”
“God, I wish you could tell me where you are!” Kevin exclaimed. His mind raced for questions to ask. He wanted to never let go of that phone until Ellen was safe.
“I really gotta go, Dad. They’ll lock me in the basement if they catch me using a phone.”
“Okay. We love you and miss you so much.”
“Love you too. Tell Mommy I love her. Bye.”
“Bye, Ellen, see you soon.”
“Diane!” Kevin yelled, and ran into their bedroom, turning on the light. “Ellen just called!”
Diane sat upright in bed. Kevin repeated every word Ellen had said.
“Oh, God,” Diane said. “I wish I could hear her voice. How did she sound?”
“Good. She wasn’t crying or anything. She sounded like her usual self, but a little scared. She sounded sure she would be coming home next week. And she said to tell you that she loved you.”
“Do you really think they’ll let her go after the trial?”
“I hope so.”
Diane immediately called Detective Weber’s office with the news. The night dispatcher paged Detective Weber. A few minutes later the detective called. Kevin related what Ellen had said and the license number.
“We’ll run this license plate right away,” Detective Weber said. “We just got some other leads last night as well. I was going to call you this morning. We found some fingerprints on the envelope with Ellen’s second letter. They come back to a Johan Oosten from Amsterdam. He’s a Dutch male, about 25 years old, who has no criminal record. We contacted the Amsterdam police. Their files show that he’s been a member of a socialist, left-wing student group, sympathetic to unpopular causes like the Serbs.”
“Wow!” Kevin exclaimed. “That’s a great lead.”
“We had people looking for him last night in Amsterdam. He hasn’t been seen since the day Ellen was kidnapped. He told his mother he would be gone for awhile on a job, but didn’t say where he was going.”
“Sounds promising.”
“There’s more,” Detective Weber said. “We got a court order to wiretap Vacinovic’s phone. After your meeting last night he called your old friend Mihajlo Golic in Serbia. They’re behind this whole thing. They hired Oosten and some other Dutch radicals to do the kidnapping.”
Diane had been right all along! She now stood by the phone with a quizzical expression on her face.
“I’d like to strangle that pot-bellied pig, Vacinovic” Kevin said between clenched teeth.
When he hung up the phone, Kevin told Diane everything. She overcame whatever temptation she had to get into I-told-you-so recriminations.
“I’ve had my hopes up so high before,” she said, surprisingly calm. “I’m almost afraid to let them get up again.”
“I know. The police work is out of our control. Let’s go downstairs and work on Draga’s trial. That’s something we can do.”
Diane made some coffee and Kevin got out his papers. It was just before 4 a.m. “Here’s the big question for the trial,” Kevin said. “Do we go for broke and use the CIA evidence?”
“Why would you use it?”
“I think there are two ways to possibly win Draga’s trial at this point. The best way would be to prove that Draga was working for the CIA and tipping them off to his military operations. With the CIA evidence, I can show that Draga more than discharged his duty as a commander to prevent war crimes. And it will put the damaging speeches and statements he made into a wholly different light.”
“What’s the other way?”
“The other possibility is to continue with our defense that the people who committed the war crimes weren’t even under Draga’s command, which is true. But William Evans from the CIA might be the only witness who could identify the list of bona fide Black Dragons that Draga gave me. As it stands right now, I’ve got a list of all the perpetrators of war crimes from the victim witnesses. That’s defense exhibit 5. But I need the CIA evidence to show that these people were not on the list of people under Draga’s command.”
“Will Draga let you expose his CIA activities?”
“Well, it’s actually my decision. As his lawyer, I have the right to make decisions on trial tactics. I did promise Draga that I would leave that decision to the end of the trial. It looks like that time has come.”
The next day, Kevin brought pannekoeken with him to the prison. When he went into the interview room with their breakfast, Draga was his usual sports-obsessed self.
“One week to Super Bowl Sunday,” Draga enthused. “The point spread is down to five points. I think I’ve got you.”
“You haven’t got anything. There’s a saying in the United States: ‘It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.’”
Draga looked puzzled. “You mean, like in the opera? Well, just bring 30 Euros to court a week from Monday.”
“We’re not going to be in court a week from Monday. Your trial is going to be over this week.”
That pronouncement seemed to have no impact whatsoever on Draga. “Well, you better come here and see me on Monday. In fact, use some of my winnings to buy us both a steak dinner and bring it with you.”
“Is that all you think about – football and food?”
“Just about. Two of the three F’s. The other one is not available to me.”
Kevin got serious. “We need to talk about the trial.”
Draga grimaced. “I like the way you’re handling it. Just keep up the good work.”
“Don’t you care how it comes out?”
“I already know how it comes out, Kevin. We lose. I get a life sentence. I am transferred to the United States, and I get a new life in a year or so. We’ve had this conversation.”
“I know, but now my daughter’s life is wrapped up in this. It looks like Vacinovic and Golic are behind her kidnapping. That guy’s not really your brother-in-law, is he?”
Draga’s expression sobered. “No, he is not related to me at all – he is with the secret police. But, I don’t like our odds, Kevin. We’re playing against the house. Our chances of winning in this court are close to zero. I wouldn’t bet on us.”
“Not if I throw the Hail Mary pass on the last play and show them that you were playing for the home team all along.”
Draga shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Kevin, you’ve been straight with me all along. Let me ask you this. If we keep quiet and don’t bring this CIA stuff up, do you think Pete Barnes and the boys will honor their promise to me?”
Kevin thought about that. He could say no and make it more palatable for Draga to let him use the CIA evidence in court, but he was not going to lie.
“I think they will,” he finally replied. “They got Maria Jones out of solitary confinement. Plus, now a Dutch police officer has heard the tapes and seen the reports. I think the CIA will try to keep its word.”
Draga looked like he was thinking; he said nothing for a while. “I think so, too, now that you got ’em on tape. That was the best thing a lawyer could have done for me. I’m so lucky I got you as my lawyer. No one else would have had the guts to do that.”
Kevin held eye contact with his client.
“So, I don’t have anything to gain by exposing that aspect of my life, and I have a lot to lose,” Draga continued. “If we use it, my family will be in danger and the CIA won’t honor the deal.”
“But if you are acquitted, you won’t need their deal.”
“Kevin, you don’t understand. If I burn my bridges with the CIA, even if I am acquitted, I lose. Remember that I have to go to Germany, then Belgium, and then Sweden to serve my time on my old cases. I’ll serve more time in worse places than if I am convicted in this case.”
“So the best result for you is if we lose,” Kevin said slowly.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you from the beginning,” Draga said. “I want to lose. Except, now, for one reason: your daughter.”
“I guess this is what Bradford Stone meant when he claimed it presented a conflict of interest,” said Kevin, beginning to feel thoroughly defeated.
“No. I know you, Kevin. You wanted to win my case from the very beginning. Your daughter’s situation hasn’t changed that.” He stood up and stretched. “Will the CIA evidence make a real difference?”
“I think so,” Kevin said. “Right now, we can’t even use the list of Dragons you gave me without a witness who can identify it. By using the CIA evidence, not only can we prove that the men who committed war crimes weren’t under your command, but we can show that you tried to prevent war crimes.”
Draga started pacing around the room.
Kevin had never seen him this serious.
Suddenly, Draga stopped. “All right, I’ve made my decision. Screw Bradford Stone and the horse he rode in on. Let’s use everything we’ve got and play to win.”
“What about your family?”
“I’ll have some people look after them. I brought this on my family for what I chose to do. You didn’t bring anything on your daughter. You were just doing your job.”
Kevin’s eyes watered as he considered what Draga had just said. This alleged “war criminal” had more character than some of the prosecutors and judges at the Tribunal.