Day Six.

Ivan calls for help. 

 

Marbella was hot and sticky. At just after midnight the neon sign above the local pharmacy was showing the temperature as twenty three degrees.

Ivan was alone in the office of the Club Hacienda when his phone rang. He recognised the number.

“You are late Doctor. It is past midnight. I trust you have the results for me?”

A nervous voice spoke quickly.

“I’m sorry Mister Andonivski. I had to get the lab to stay open late so I could get the tests finished.”

“And?”

“There was a high rate of flunitrazepan in Bepa’s bloods sir. That’s more commonly known as…”

Ivan interrupted him.

“I know what it is Doctor. It’s Rohypnol. Back in Russia we called it Mexican Valium. Because in that shit hole of a country it is prescribed for Insomnia. What else?”

 “Alcohol and traces of… cannabis.”

The doctor’s voice sounded shaky as he said the word cannabis. He didn’t want to be the first person to tell Ivan his daughter was smoking weed.

“I am well aware of my daughter’s use of marijuana doctor. But she is young, there is little I can do. Continue.”

“The effects of the flunitrazepan combined with alcohol and cannabis would have made your daughter feel light headed and drowsy very quickly. To most people she would have appeared drunk.”

“Thank you doctor.”

It was the answer that Ivan had been expecting. For some reason the Romanians had targeted Bepa. Kidnap maybe? If they had wanted to kill her they could have laced the vodka with something much more toxic.

He tried to put play the scenario in his mind. They get her drunk and high on Rohypnol, she staggers home, they wait till she reaches a quiet spot then they take her. No one sees, but then Robbie Jackson appears. He takes control, takes her home. He spoils their plans.

If his scenario is correct Robbie Jackson might well have been her saviour that night.

He called Demetrie.

“I am sorry to trouble you cousin but I have a problem here in Spain. Take the first flight out of Gatwick and bring some of your best men.”

Ivan needed to act quickly. He wanted to have as much information as possible before the family from England arrived. It would be a long night. The waiter from Bar Eduardo’s would have to be questioned much more thoroughly.

 

Demetrie, Kirill, Lev and three others caught the 06.40 out of Gatwick and arrived at Malaga just after 10.00am Spanish time. They were met at the airport by two of the family each driving a black Range Rover. They followed the coastal road and reached Marbella in one hour. During the journey Demetrie noticed that lev was wearing a new watch. A Rolex Submariner. He could tell a real watch from a fake from twenty yards. This was the real thing. Five or six thousand pounds at least. He begun to think he was paying his men a little too much money. He decided to bring up the subject.

“Lev, what time do you have?”

Without thinking Lev looked at his new timepiece.

“Nine twenty five.”

“Nice watch lev. Is it new?”

Lev looked at Kirill.

“It was given to me but someone who no longer had use for it sir.”

Demetrie smiled. He knew exactly what was meant by that statement.


 

They went straight to the club. Ivan greeted Demetrie warmly.

“Welcome cousin. It was good of you to get here so quickly.”

“We are family Ivan. You call, we come.”

Ivan had been busy. He had “Interviewed” the waiter personally. He had gained every single drop of information from him. He had spoken to the bar owner. An old Spanish man called Eduardo. He told him that a group of Romanians had offered to buy his bar. Had even offered him double the going rate. He had declined. Since then they had threatened him and his family many times.

At exactly 05.30 that morning Ivan bought Bar Eduardo’s from the old man. He gave him five times what it was worth. All in cash. As of midday today the family would be working the bar and waiting tables.

The old man was canny. Unknown to the waiter there were two cameras hidden above the tills. He had them installed so he could keep an eye on the money. But they covered a range of three metres in every direction. He had pictures of the two strangers.

Ivan sent these to the higher family in Russia. The results were back.

It was the worst news possible. The two guys were from Bucharest and were members of the Dudieni Clan. Their reputation was fierce. They once skinned a man alive. Carefully taking small pieces of skin off arms, legs and chest then wiping the wounds clean with bleach. It took eleven hours for the man to die. By this time there was less than ten percent of skin left on his body.

There were twelve men assembled. Ivan spoke loudly. He told them about Bepa and Eduardo’s. He showed them the photos and what the family in Russia had said. He waited for a reaction.

Demetrie stood up and spoke first.

“We have only one option. They must all die.”

Ivan smiled.

“Thank you cousin. I’m glad we all agree.”

 

 

 

 

Day Five ( Continued)

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Robbie has gone. But Ivan has a much bigger problem.

In Marbella, Ivan was sitting next to Bepa at the hospital. She had regained her speech and was telling him the full story. He dismissed Robbie Jackson as an unfortunate misunderstanding. But there was something else in Bepa’s story, something that troubled him. He didn’t want Bepa to know the truth. Not yet anyway.

“Don’t worry my angel. Robbie panicked and returned to England. I have some of the family looking for him and when they find him we will explain that all is well. I may even ask him to stay in England and look after a few of my interests there.”

“Thank you daddy.”

Bepa was relieved about Robbie. She knew her father well enough to know what he was capable of and wanted no harm to come to someone who she considered to be a close friend.

“So tell me once again about the two strangers in the bar.”

Ivan was anxious to hear that part of Bepa’s story again.

“I was with Nicole and Aurelie, we were having a few drinks at Bar Eduardo’s and suddenly a bottle of Grey Goose vodka was put in front of us by the waiter. I looked up and saw two men standing at the bar. They smiled and raised their glasses.”

Ivan raided his eyebrows. Bepa guessed how her father’s mind was working.

“They didn’t try to muscle in on us or chat us up daddy. Honestly. They were just being nice.”

“The bottle, was it open?”

“Err, yes. Why?”

“And these men. You had never seen them before?”

“No.”

“What did they look like? How old were they? Were they Russian, Spanish, English?”

Bepa was getting flustered. She was trying hard to remember. Her head was pounding.

Ivan realised that he was pressing to hard. He took hold of her hand.

“I’m sorry my darling. We’ll talk some more later when you are feeling better. Get some rest now.”

He kissed her gently on the forehead and left the room. He saw the hospital Chief of Staff waiting nervously for him outside.

“She is much better Mister Andonivski. We doubt there will be any long term damage. She just needs rest and then should be able to go home in a few days.”

Ivan should no signs of relief or gratitude. He looked the man straight in the eyes.

“Did you take blood when she was admitted?”

“Yes of course. It’s routine.”

“Have you had that blood analysed yet?”

“No sir we were concentrating on the head injury.”

“I want that blood tested. NOW. Get me the results by the end of the day. I want to know if there was anything unusual in her bloodstream. You understand me?”

“Yes sir.”

Ivan dismissed him with a hand gesture. Then rang Nikor.

“Go to Bar Eduardo’s. Find out what waiter served Bepa and her friends on Monday afternoon. Look at the CCTV tapes for that day. Find out about two strangers who bought them a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. Do it now Nikor.”

For the first time in five days he wished Robbie Jackson was still alive. He may have been able to provide some answers.


 

 

The drive to the pig farm had taken longer than expected. Lev drove slowly, careful not to break the speed limit at any stage. They were met by a member of the family who directed them to a small building where the pigs were slaughtered.

Robbie Jackson’s body was lifted out of the boot and carried into the slaughterhouse.

It took less than thirty minutes to dispose of.

On the return journey Kirill noticed that Lev was wearing Robbie Jacksons watch.

“I see you took it after all.”

Lev smiled.

“I liked it. Besides, he had no further use for it.”

He turned up the radio and pressed down hard on the accelerator. They should be back at the house before midday.


 

Nikor had the information that Ivan required. It wasn’t good news. He dialled the number nervously. Ivan answered quickly.

“You have news for me?”

“Yes sir. The bar has no CCTV. But I spoke with the waiter. He remembered the men well. They had markings sir. On their hands. A five dot tattoo.”

Nikor waited for a reaction from his boss. There was a long pause before Ivan spoke.

“He is certain of this?”

“Yes Sir.”

Ivan hung up the phone, walked over to the bar and poured himself a large glass of Chivas Regal. He had controlled this region for many years. The English had been easy to control, but now there was a new threat. Much harder and ruthless than even his family. The Romanians had arrived.

 

 

 

 

Day Five ( Final)

Final part of the The Days ( or is it?)

 

There was no pain. His body was way beyond that. It took almost four hours before Robbie Jackson took his final breath.

His body was carried away by Lev and Kirill, two of Demetri’s men. As they loaded the body into the boot of an old Mercedes, Lev noticed the Rolex.

“Do you think it is real?”

Kirill shook his head.

“No. Leave it. He was not a wealthy man. These watches sell for twenty euros on the Costa’s.”

Lev noticed another thing about Robbie.

“Look at him.He looks like he has a smile on his face.”

He closed the boot. The two of them got into the car. It would be a two hour drive to the “families” pig farm in Norfolk.


 

 

John Morgan was bored. He’d been in the hospital for five hours. He was hooked up to two machines, wires were attached to his chest and the constant beep of the heart machine was driving him mad. He pressed a button. Twenty seconds later a nurse came in to his room.

“What’s the matter Mister Morgan?”

“When can I get out of here? I feel fine now. I had a bit of a wobble earlier, yes, I’ll admit that, but I’m fine now.”

“The Doctor will be here in a minute to talk to you, we need to keep you in for observation. We need to know what made you collapse.”

“Just too much work, that’s all.”

A young black Doctor in a white coat appeared at the doorway.

“John Morgan?”

The nurse turned and left the room.

“Yes, that’s me. Look, I need to get out of here. I have a lot of work to do.”

The Doctor walked over to the bed and pulled up the chair beside it.

“I’ve just had your blood test results back. Anything you want to tell me?”

“No, I don’t think so. One minute I was sitting at my desk, I had some chest pains and then you lot arrived and carted me off here.”

The Doctor took a deep breath.

“Want to tell me about the enormous amounts of cocaine in your bloodstream?”

John Morgan didn’t batter an eyelid. He was good at lying, he did it every day.

“Oh that. Doctor, I’m a policeman. A policeman of senior rank. Today I attended a drugs bust. It was a cocaine factory. They were producing tons of the finished product. The air was thick with white dust. I must have breathed in far too much than was good for me. I know I should have worn a mask like I was told to, but I thought I’d be okay. Obviously not.”

The Doctor was taken back.

“Oh, yes I see. Sorry, I thought…”

“Not to worry Doctor. My full title is Detective Inspector John Morgan, from the Special Investigations Unit. Now, when I can I go back to work?”

 “Not yet, we need to keep you in for a while. It’s just for observation, we don’t want to take any chances, surely you can understand that?”

Morgan knew he’d be fine. It wasn’t the coke that made him fall over. It was bloody indigestion. He got it bad from time to time. Couple of Rennies and he was fine. But that stupid over eager young Detective came in and saw him holding his chest. Next thing he knew he was in an ambulance and on his way to hospital.

“Okay, Listen, if I’ve got to spend a few more hours in here can I call someone to keep me company?”

“Yes, that should be okay.”

John Morgan smiled. He knew exactly who to call.


 

Demetri asked one of his closest men, Maxim, to pay John Morgan a visit at the hospital. He didn’t want any “loose ends.”

“Go see the Policeman. Do what you think is best.”

Both men had been together long enough to know exactly what that meant. Maxim knew Morgan well. He had helped him sort out various “commodities” over the past couple of years and liked him. But family came first and if he had become a liability then he would be dealt with swiftly.

Maxim asked at the main desk about Morgan and was told that he was on the third floor in Recovery. He didn’t use the lift. Maxim was a fitness fanatic and wanted as much physical exercise as he could get. The steroids needed it. He leapt the stairs three at a time, impressive for a man over six feet and eighteen stone.

He followed the signs for “Recovery”. He pushed his way through large double doors, there was no one at the reception desk. But there was a stethoscope on the desk by a computer. He picked it up and placed it around his neck. With his expensive tailored suit he looked every inch the consultant. There was a whiteboard on the wall. It had a list of patients and which rooms they were in. John Morgan was in room eleven. Maxim walked along the corridor to the room. He found it and slowly opened the door.

John Morgan was sitting up. He had wires attached to his chest and a needle in his arm that was hooked up to a drip. He had his eyes closed. Beside him was a young woman with blond hair. He couldn’t see much more of her as her head was bobbing up and down. John Morgan was whispering.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

Maxim closed the door and marvelled at this deviant of a man. Then started to clap.

The girl stopped, wiped her mouth and stood up. Morgan opened his eyes. Looked over at Maxim and grinned.

“Maxim, good to see you. Got anything for me?”

Maxim roared with laughter, put his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a small bag of white powder. He threw it at Morgan..

“I see you are in good spirits Mister John. Demetri will be very pleased.”


 

In Marbella, Ivan was sitting next to Bepa at the hospital. She had regained her speech and was telling him the full story. He dismissed Robbie Jackson as an unfortunate misunderstanding, but there was something else in Bepa’s story that was making his blood boil.

TBC….

 

 

 

Day Four ( Continued)

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They’re closing in on Robbie.

 

Carol Goodman arrived at The Gables early. It was seven thirty. She ordered a drink at the bar. Dutch courage. She was sure she would be staying the night and wanted to get slightly tipsy. Not drunk, just enough alcohol to give her confidence. She hadn’t slept with a man for almost two years. She was nervous. Paul Redford was a catch. Good looking, well dressed and most importantly he had money, and, from what she’d seen and heard, he had lots of it. She liked him and was sure that he liked her.

It suddenly dawned on her that Paul hadn’t said where to meet, only that he would book a table for eight o’clock. She finished her drink and went to the reception desk. A blonde haired girl smiled at her.

“Can I help you?”

The girl had an eastern European accent. Possibly Russian.

“I’m looking for Mister Paul Redford; can you tell me what room he’s in?”

The girl stopped smiling.

“Mister Redford? He checked out about an hour ago.”

“Are you sure? I am supposed to meet him for dinner here tonight.”

“I’m positive Madam. He left with some friends.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No, he just left.”

She hurriedly dialled his number. The message said that the phone was switched off. She ran along the corridor and opened the door of the ladies toilets. She felt sick. She started to cry. Paul Redford had turned out to be just another disappointment in a long line of life’s disappointments.

 

 

Ivan arrived at Gatwick just before ten o’clock. A car was waiting for him and drove him to a large detached house near Redhill in Surrey. The driveway was long and the house was set well back from the main road. He stepped out of the car and was greeted by Demetri.

“Welcome brother. It is good to see you.”

“Is he here?”

“Yes, we have him.”

“Alive?”

“Yes, but he didn’t come easily and badly injured two of my family. I let some of the others have some fun with him. He has experienced some pain.”

“Good. Take me to him.”

The two of them walked into a grand hallway. Ivan followed Demetri into a room at the back of the house. In the middle of the room was a large wooden kitchen table. Lying face up on the table was Robbie Jackson.

Robbie’s ankles were tied together and his legs were strapped to the table. His arms however were stretched out wide like a scene from the crucifixion. Two nails had been hammered through each hand. His face was a mass of bruises and swelling. He was spitting out large amounts of blood to avoid choking.

“Ivan looked at Demetri.”

“What happened to his mouth?”

“He bit off the finger of one of my men. So we removed his teeth.”

Ivan grinned.

“He will bite no more.”

Robbie was conscious but couldn’t move or speak. His body had shut down. A numbness now consumed him. He could see Ivan even though his eyes were almost shut. Ivan put his face close to Robbie’s.

“Hello Robbie. Did you really think you would be able to run from me? My family is everywhere, we would always find you.”

Robbie tried to speak but only blood came from his mouth. He knew his life would soon be over. Ivan took a small knife from his pocket. He rubbed the blade against his finger to see how sharp it was.

“Unfortunately the blade is rather blunt Robbie, so this will feel very unpleasant.”

He pushed the tip of the blade hard against Robbie’s face. It began to draw blood. He pushed harder until the blade had pierced his cheek and entered his mouth. Ivan twisted the knife, then slowly pulled it out. Robbie’s face was now a mass of blood.

Ivan whispered in Robbie’s ear.

“Goodbye.”

He put the knife against Robbie’s throat and pushed hard. There was a gurgling noise as the blood began to pour out. Robbie’s body made no movement. But he was still alive.

“Leave him here tonight, then get rid of him in the morning. It may take some time for him to finally die. That is exactly how it should be.”

Demetri smiled.

“As you wish Ivan.”

 

Ivan caught the first flight back to Malaga early the next morning and went straight to the hospital. The doctor had called and said that Bepa had come out of her coma. When he arrived the doctor was waiting for him. Ivan shook his hand.

“How is she?”

“She is awake and sitting up. She keeps asking for you.”

Ivan entered the room and saw his beloved Bepa. She looked so fragile. There were tubes in her arm and nose but she was sitting up and smiled at him. He fought back the tears. Sat down beside her and held her hand.

“Bepa, my darling. You have come back to me.”

He squeezed her hand and felt her squeeze back. She was trying to say something. He could just make out two words “Robbie Jackson.”

“Don’t try to speak now. Everything has been taken care of. Get your rest. Everything is going to be okay.”

Bepa knew she had to tell him what had happened as soon as she could. But the words wouldn’t come just yet. She knew what her father’s temper was like and didn’t want any harm to come to Robbie Jackson. It was her fault. She had seen him on her way back to her father’s house. A long lunch with friends had turned into a party. She was drunk and high. Robbie had been a perfect gentleman and took her back to his apartment to help her sober up. He knew that Ivan would have been disappointed seeing her in such a state. He went to the kitchen to make her some coffee. She stumbled and fell. That was all she could remember.


 

 

Demetri decided to call John Morgan and thank him for his help. The phone was answered, but the voice was not John Morgan’s.

“Hello?”

“Hello, can I speak with D.I. Morgan please.”

The young detective’s voice was shaky.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s on his way to hospital. He’s had a heart attack.”

“Thank you for letting me know. Who am I speaking to?”

“My name is Stewart Reynolds. Detective Stewart Reynolds.”

Demetri hung up. It was a shame about Morgan. But not to worry. He would now make it his business to find out more about Detective Reynolds.

 

 

Day Four

D.I. Morgan woke up and for a few seconds had no idea where he was. The surroundings were unfamiliar. His eyes couldn’t focus properly. There was a man playing a bass drum in his head.  He brought his left hand up close to his face so that he could see his watch. It was nine thirty. A young girl was lying beside him. He had no idea who she was or how she’d got there. The last thing he remembered was drinking pink champagne and snorting coke till his nose started to bleed. There was also a vague memory of Demetri booking two rooms at three hundred and fifty pounds each but the rest was a blur. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels on the bedside table beside him. It was half full. He picked it up and took three long gulps. It hit his system like a powerful punch from a heavyweight boxer. Everything seemed to become clearer and with a quick shake of the head he suddenly felt a whole lot better. The girl beside him was blonde and about twenty. He cuddled up to her and started to stroke her thigh. She moved away from him.

“Fuck off.”

She had a Russian accent.

“Come on babe, you know I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fuck off, I’m sore, you are a nasty man!”

He had no idea what she was on about. But somewhere at the back of his mind he had a faint recollection of slapping her arse many times. He pulled the covers back and saw her naked flesh. Her buttocks were bright red and covered with hand marks. There was a trace of blood on the crisp white sheets.

He smiled. He could be such a cunt sometimes when the old marching powder was working its wicked magic. He decided not to push it, maybe it would be better to get up and have a shower. In the bathroom there were three perfect lines of coke on the toilet system. This was his trademark. No matter how out of it he was, he always remembered to put three lines out for his recovery in the morning. He bent over and sniffed up his most prized possession, threw his head back and grinned at the ceiling. He felt alive again.  The shower was luke warm but exactly what he needed. He sang “Mack the Knife”, one of his favourite karaoke tunes. He stepped out of the shower and begun to dry himself off. His phone rang. It was the young Detective that he’d put in charge of the Robbie Jackson case. He answered the call.

“We’ve got him sir!”

The Detectives voice was full of excitement.

“Really, where is he?”

“The Novatel in Croydon.”

“How certain are you?”

He had to be sure. The last thing he wanted was to give Demetri bad information.

“He’s on CCTV at Gatwick leaving the airport, then he’s on camera again entering the Hotel opposite, but then he re-appears twenty minutes later and gets into a black cab Registration number EJ58 HYB. We traced the driver of the cab and he remembers dropping the man at the Novatel in Croydon in the early hours of the morning two days ago. It’s concrete info sir. He’s definitely there. You want me to send some people to pick him up?”

“No, no, not yet. This is quite a high profile case and I need to clear everything with the people upstairs. Bloody red tape!”

“Fully understand sir. Just let me know when you want to proceed.”

He hung up. Time to call Demetri. This was better than he’d thought. Maybe he might get another line of credit. He dialled a number.

“Good news my friend. He’s at the Novatel just outside of Croydon.”

“Thank you Mister John. The family will be most grateful.”

John Morgan put down the phone and looked over at the girl on the bed.

“Brace yourself darling, I’m coming back in.”


 

 

Three hours later and he was back at his desk waiting for the call from Demetri. The young Detective was chomping at the bit. He kept asking when he could go and make the arrest. Morgan knew he couldn’t put him off much longer. Eventually his phone rang. It was Demetri.

“Have you got him?”

“Not yet Mister John. He wasn’t at the hotel as you said he would be. He had been there but left yesterday.”

“Fuck, I thought…

Demetri interrupted him.

“Mister John, your information was good. We were just a bit late that’s all. But we have good news. A member of our family has a niece that works at the hotel as a cleaner. Mister Jackson left a number of items behind. I now have everything from that room.”

“Okay, what now?”

“There was a receipt in the waste bin. It was for a SIM card and credit for a mobile phone. The phone number is also on the receipt. How quickly can you trace the whereabouts of a mobile phone?”

“As long as the phone is switched on it will be searching for connections locally all the time. I can pinpoint it to within fifty metres in minutes.”

“Good Mister John. Do it for me now please. I will wait.”

He gave him the number. D.I. Morgan entered the information into his computer and waited while it did its search.

“Demetri, the number is live. But the phone is not switched on. As soon as it is I can have the location for you.”

“Thank you Mister John. I need this information as soon as possible. Please remember that.”

He hung up. Morgan called in the Detective.

“Okay, it’s on. Go pick him up.”

The Detectives face beamed. This would be an important arrest and maybe even earn him a promotion.

“I’m on my way sir.”

Of course John Morgan knew that it would be a waste of time and no trace would be found of Robbie Jackson. But it would give him time to help Demetri.


 

 

 

Robbie Jackson woke at seven, as he always did. Showered and then went for breakfast in the hotel lounge. He smiled. Yesterday had been a good day. He’d gained another few hundred quid. Spent a night in a good hotel, and met Carol and her friends.

The evening had gone according to plan. He’d played the reluctant guest very well. They’d swallowed his story hook, line and sinker. At first, he pretended to not want to talk about his past, saying that it was all very boring and that he was more interested in hearing about them. But he knew they would keep pressing him on it and the story he told was very believable.

He’d been living and working in Spain for the past ten years. He owned a number of bars along the southern coast, but due to the recession had decided to sell up. A buyer had come along quicker than he’d anticipated and the sale had been completed within a few weeks. His possessions were in storage over in Spain and he’d come back to the UK to settle down. He had no family. He was an only child and both his parents had passed away. They ended up feeling sorry for him. One of the women, called Alice, worked at a local estate agents and promised to get him details on properties to rent in the area.

They all left at ten o’clock, apart from Carol. She stayed behind to have a nightcap with him. She was divorced and had a young son. She had a three bedroom house just up the road from the hotel and worked as a HR manager for a local shipping company. They swapped phone numbers and at the end of the evening while she waited for a cab to take her home, they’d kissed. He’d promised to call her today and arrange to meet up again. Carol could become very useful indeed. He left it until four o’clock, then switched on his phone and called her.

“Hi Carol?”

“I was wondering if you’d call. I enjoyed last night. You?”

“I had a really great time. I was wondering if we could do the same tonight. I could book a table for dinner, here, at say eight o’clock?”

“Lovely, I’ll take my son to his grandparents. He can stay there for the night. That way I won’t be in a rush to get home.”

There was a slight giggle in her voice. He knew exactly what she meant by that last comment.

“Now, that has made my day. Can’t wait. See you tonight.”

He put the phone down and lay down on his bed. Time for a nap before getting ready. He wondered what she’d look like naked.


 

 

Demetri’s phone rang. It was John Morgan.

“Mister John. Good news I hope.”

“The phone was switched on and used a few minutes ago. He’s at a Country Club called The Gables in Reigate.”

“You have been very helpful Mister John. It will not be forgotten.”

Demetri hung up and then dialled another number.

“Ivan, I have found him. I am sending some men to pick him up now.”

Ivan Andonivski smiled for the first time since he was told about Bepa.

“Thank you Demetri. I will catch a flight and be with you in a few hours. Try not to kill him. That will be my pleasure.”