Page 48 of The Devil's Ransom

Jennifer saw the black-haired man look wildly left and right, settling on the balcony wall. He ran to it and leapt over like there was a swimming pool underneath him. Jennifer stood up, seeing him lying on the next terrace, having landed on a table with patrons eating. They were wildly gyrating their arms and shouting, pointing at him on the ground. He rolled left and right, holding his side, then jumped up and vaulted the short fence at the edge of the terrace. He landed in the makeshift garden, then slid down the hill.

Jennifer looked at the two men left behind, seeing one holding his head from the beer bottle shot, the other pulling him upright. The first shook off his hands, waving his pistol around, then realized what he was doing. He glanced back at the bar, seeing patrons all shocked at the fight. He shouted something in a language Jennifer didn’t understand, then the two went over the wall themselves, only much more slowly, lowering themselves far enough until they could safely drop to the bottom terrace. Before Jennifer knew it, they were upright and sliding down the garden hill.

Without thinking, she followed them, throwing herself over the wall, holding on for a brief second, her feet seeking purchasein the rough stone. She found it, and she began going hand over hand like a rock climber until she was hanging on the sill at the bottom of the balcony wall, a table below her.

She shouted, “Look out!”

The patrons at the table saw her and leapt back. She dropped, hitting one side of the table and riding it down like she was on a surfboard. Before they could react, she was over the next railing and in the alley running flat out behind the target and the men chasing him.

Chapter27

Branko pointed to a table midway between the wall of the balcony and the bar, wanting to be in the back, away from the entrance. He sat down and Pushka said, “Who is this guy? And why are we meeting him?”

“He’s a dude I met at Andrei’s place. He was there for something different. We didn’t really talk about it because—you know, Andrei. We just bullshitted a little bit, but you know me. Anyone wants to party, and I’ll go with them.”

Pushka scowled and said, “Every time you bring in some lost puppy you create a risk of compromise.”

The waitress came over with a couple of beers, knowing them on sight. Branko thanked her and made a lame joke, which caused her to force a laugh. After she’d left, Branko said, “Come on. Remember those girls from Slovakia? They were lost puppies, too. This guy is a power player. He might help us in our work. It’s worth it.”

“It’s not going to be worth it. It never is. Remember your ‘cryptocurrency genius’? All he did was fleece us.”

Chagrined, Branko said, “Yeah, well this guy works for Andrei, and he looked like he was powerful, even if he was dressed like a bum. He’s someone we may want to know. You were the one talking about getting out from underneath the yoke of Andrei. Maybe this is it.”

Pushka took a sip of his beer and said, “I’d rather be working that hot girl over there.”

Branko looked where he indicated and saw a woman staring at him, shoulder-length blond hair in a ponytail, wearing what every hiker in Croatia did—Salomon hiking shoes and nylon clothes. She glanced away when he looked at her, leaning over the balcony wall, and he saw her body was like a snake’s, solid muscle all the way through.

The man next to her looked years younger, but he was also in shape, like he was about to do a CrossFit competition, his lank muscles rippling whenever he moved. Branko realized that neither he nor Pushka would stand a chance with her. She was someone who would never want his flaccid body, even as he probably made more in a week than that punk she was with did in a year.

He said, “She’s a bitch. Look at her. All about the package.”

Pushka was about to respond when he saw two men descend the stairwell. Both were obviously not from Croatia. Both had swarthy complexions, with long black hair and full beards. But the most disconcerting thing was that both zeroed in on their table like a couple of wolves after a wounded deer.

Branko saw his face cloud up and said, “What? What’s the problem?”

He said, “Them.”

The two men stared for a moment longer, and the bigger one seemed to recognize Branko. He came forward, the other trailing behind. They sat down, the bigger man saying, “You’re here for Ahmad Khan, yes?”

Branko said, “Yeah, are you friends of his?”

“Let’s just say we used to be. He won’t be coming tonight.And both of you will be leaving here with me. We have some questions.”

Pushka tensed up and said, “What does that mean?”

“My name is Shakor Hekmatyar. I’m from Afghanistan, and your friend has stolen something of significance, which is now in your hands. We want it back.”

Branko bunched his eyes and said, “What the fuck are you talking about? He said he was coming here for a party night. I don’t know what you’re asking.”

Shakor pulled out a pistol, one that was long in the barrel, with most of it looking much larger than necessary to work the action of the gun, something Branko had only seen in the movies.

Shakor said, “You will tell us where the treasure is. Or you will die. It’s really that simple. Let’s go. Stand up slowly.”

Branko said, “Wait, wait, I think you’ve got us confused with someone else. We don’t know anything about any treasure. We only know Ahmad from previous work. Where is he? He can tell you.”

“He’s dead. And you’re the last trace.”

Branko’s head was spinning.Treasure? From Afghanistan? What the hell?

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