Twisted Traffick Page 12

“Also, it would help if we could take Julia along,” Labrecque added. “Since she knows the compound the best, it seems. That is, if she is well enough.”

  “I’ll run and see,” Anne said, heading off toward Julia’s room.

  Chapter 19

  They went in two cars, Julia and Anne joining Labrecque and Greg in the black BMW. Szekely and the other two Viennese Interpol agents stayed behind at the hospital until the local cops came to guard Hetzel, allowing Kormendi to go and greet the reinforcements and organize the search of the facility.

  When they got to the gates of the compound though, there was no one waiting there. Pacing beside his car, the Hungarian police officer called around again, and Greg could see that his frustration level was mounting with each conversation. “They have the warrant, but they are supposedly trying to muster a large force of at least twenty men. That’s what’s taking so long. I told them to come with however many they have, before it’s too late.”

  In the meantime, Szekely arrived at the site with Labrecque’s two colleagues from Vienna. Puzzled that they were still just hanging around outside the gate, he asked, “Why don’t we go in? There seems to be no one in there. The compound looks totally deserted.”

  Indeed, the Hungarian Interpol officer was right. No one manned the guard booth at the gate, and there was not a soul visible when they peeked through.

  “All right, let’s carry on,” Kormendi finally agreed. “The back-up should be here momentarily in any case.”

  ***

  The place was eerie, disturbingly so. Other than the eight of them, it seemed that there was no one at all in the huge compound, anywhere. At the two ladies’ suggestion, they made their way first toward the main building, where neither Julia nor Anne had been, and where they had seen the thugs herd the other girls. It was when they were just breaking in through the front door, that they finally heard the approaching sirens of the local police.

  “The reinforcements,” Kormendi said. “About bloody time.”

  They stayed together, Szekely, Kormendi, Labrecque, Greg, Anne and Julia, going from room to room in the big building, mostly in silent shock at all the evidence carelessly left behind. It was clear from the smashed computers, destroyed webcams and film cameras, the wall-to-wall mattresses, sex toys, chains and whips, in all the rooms, that there was a major human trafficking ring focused on sex and pornography operating from here. It was also obvious that the gangsters involved had tried to destroy as much of the incriminating proof as they could, but they had been in a great hurry to get away.

  When the local Hungarian police finally caught up to them, Anne said to the others, “Okay, I have seen enough now, and in any case, we are just stepping on each other here. There are too many of us now taking stock of the evidence, so I would like to go over to the other building where Julia and I were kept. I am sure there is also stuff there that could be interesting.”

  “Good idea,” Greg agreed.

  “That is, if Julia, you are not too traumatized to go back to your chamber of horrors,” Anne continued. “Otherwise, Greg can stay outside with you, and I will just go in with my former Interpol colleagues.”

  Julia did not want to be left out, especially since she knew she could be useful. “Thanks. But no, I will come with you.”

  “That sounds good,” Kormendi agreed. “I will stay and continue on with the local guys, and make sure we get all the evidence here. If we ever catch these creeps, they will spend the rest of their miserable lives in jail. And I, personally, will make sure it is intolerable as hell for them.”

  ***

  The doors were not locked, so they had no trouble getting into the side building. Szekely and Labrecque led the way, with Anne holding Julia’s hand and telling them where to go, Greg bringing up the rear. Upstairs, they headed straight for the room at the end of the long corridor where the two women had been held captive and abused. As they approached, Anne’s arm went around her friend. “Now, Julia, you really don’t have to go in there.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  Anne flicked the light on. She knew from her earlier experience where the switch was. The room was exactly as they had left it: soiled and rumpled sheets on the bed, Julia’s open handcuffs dangling from the iron bedpost, night table drawer where Anne had found the handcuff keys still open, Anne’s blood-soaked underwear halfway under the bed, Hetzel’s dried blood all over the floor, wall and furniture, and the disgusting, mingled stale smells of sex, gunpowder and blood in the air.

  Labrecque and Szekely went around taking fingerprints, snapping pictures and writing notes, while Anne led the others back out into the corridor. “That’s enough. There’s no need to linger in there. The memories are just too raw.”

  Anne and Julia walked ahead slowly, with Greg following behind, and they came to the two other doors midway down the hall, one on either side, facing each other. Anne hesitated, then brought them to a halt, saying, “We’ll have to look in these rooms too. But let’s wait here for Nicholas and George.” She felt Julia shudder just a little as she glanced from the right door to the left, and then turned her head away, resting it on Anne’s shoulder, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Spooked a little, the more of them there were to enter through these two doors, the safer somehow Anne knew she would feel.

  ***

  Labrecque opened the door on the right. It led to a bedroom: presumably, this was where Hetzel retreated to when he was not molesting the women he brought to the compound. Beside a still made up king-size bed and two chairs, there was a desk in the room with a laptop and a printer on it, a closet to one side of the bed and a door leading to a bathroom on the other.

  “Ah! This must have been Hetzel’s laptop,” Julia said, going straight over to the desk and pointing to an iMac Pro.

  “Hmm! Yes, in their big rush to get away, and with Hetzel out of the picture, the thugs must have forgotten about his computer. They clearly didn’t come and check in here before leaving. This could be our lucky day!” Labrecque came over to look at the laptop.

  “It may be still on,” Julia observed, putting her ear close to the machine. “Should we see if we can get in? I am sure there is lots of incriminating evidence on it.”

  “Don’t touch it!” Szekely caught Julia’s hand just in time. “Let me dust it for fingerprints first.”

  “But it is a good idea, Julia,” Anne, coming over, agreed with the Russian girl. “Let’s at least look before those crooks wipe it clean remotely. If they haven’t done so already, realizing they had forgotten it.”

  So while Labrecque and Szekely searched the closet, fingerprinted all over and took pictures and notes, Julia, who was the most adept with computers, sat down at the desk, opened up the iMac and got to work. At first she was discouraged, because the laptop needed a password to get in. So she tried a few obvious passwords, starting with Hetzel’s names, and when they didn’t work, she thought of trying the aliases. First Kallay, then Kalinsky, then Adam Kallay. Different combinations, with caps and without. Spaces and no spaces. No luck. Then, on a whim, she thought of trying her own name: after all the creep seemed to have been obsessed with her. And indeed, when she typed Julia Saparova as the password--freaky as it was--the laptop came alive and she was in!

  Within minutes, she had figured out Hetzel’s filing system and how to access what was there. With Anne and Greg looking over her shoulders, she quickly surfed from file to file.

  “George and Nicholas, you should come take a look. The evidence here is very incriminating,” Anne said, beckoning to her colleagues. “These gangsters run a network that extends from Russia and the other countries of the former Soviet Union--where most of the girls are sourced--to many big cities in Europe, where the ring operates through legal strip bars to showcase the women and sell them into slavery or to local pimps. Or just serve time as strippers, maybe prostitutes.”

  “Yeah, it seems to be a money machine for the guys who run it,” Greg said. “With the obvious fringe
benefits whenever they desired.”

  “Unbelievable! Can we print out the list of cities and the names of the bars?” Labrecque asked. “That would make our work at Interpol easier.”

  “Sure. I’ll give it a try.” Julia agreed, glad to be of use. She turned on the printer beside the laptop.

  “They use an abandoned military base near here to fly the girls in and out of Hungary. And, by the way, Schengen,” Anne commented, after reading one of the emails. “It would seem without any obstruction from the authorities.”

  “I will need to look into how this has been possible here. I need to check with Hungarian Air Traffic Control. And the military,” Szekely said, seemingly chafed at his countrymen. “No doubt, somebody was paid off.”

  “Wow! Here I think I have found a list of the names of their major clients,” Julia said, excited at her discovery. “These must be all the rich perverts who would come to buy the girls. Hetzel did keep good records.”

  “Excellent, Julia! Print that out too, please,” Labrecque ordered. “We’ll pick all of them up, wherever they are, those sexual deviants.”

  “While Julia and I continue to look through things here and print files, why don’t you guys try the door across the hallway? See where that one leads to,” Anne suggested, remembering that Julia had shuddered and turned away from that door. Maybe she had some bad memories associated with what was in the room--best not to take her in there, she concluded. But they did need to check it for evidence.

  “Good idea, otherwise we’ll be here all day.” Greg agreed, conscious of the time. “Those criminals are getting farther and farther away with the girls. We need to get going to hunt them down.”

  Chapter 20

  The door across the hall was locked.

  “There must be a key for it. Maybe back in the other room,” Szekely said.

  Labrecque nodded. “Good thinking, George. I’ll go look for it.”

  The French agent was back in no time at all, holding a set of keys. And it did not take them long to find the right one. The door opened with the second key they tried. Pitch dark greeted them.

  As the two men from Interpol groped around in the dark on either side of the door for a light switch, Greg was startled by what he thought was a groan coming from the far corner. “Shh! What was that?” he asked.

  Before anyone could answer, Labrecque turned on the lights, and Greg was stunned by what greeted his eyes. Over in one corner, a cage, with what appeared to be a human form, lying motionless. On the walls, chains and handcuffs and all sorts of unspeakable implements of torture and pain. A table in the center of the room, speckled with bloodstains. He felt nauseous, as he cast a further glance in the direction of the cage. And there, as he moved closer, he saw that the shape inside was a girl, stark naked, just starting to stir.

  At least she is alive, Greg thought, as he saw Labrecque rush over to the structure in the corner.

  After trying a few keys from the ring, the Frenchman pulled the cage’s entrance open, went in, and knelt beside the young woman. “She is breathing and alive,” he said, feeling her pulse, and looking over her body. “I think she’s all right--no obvious signs of physical abuse. Just seems to be massively drugged. And, of course, all the trauma she’s been through.”

  “I’ll call for an ambulance,” George said, already dialing. “We should get her to the hospital ASAP and have her checked out.”

  “Who are you? Can you tell us your name?” Labrecque whispered in the girl’s ear. She moaned again, and muttered something incomprehensible. And when no coherent answer came, he turned to Greg: “Anne. Maybe we should get Anne, don’t you think? She might know who this girl is. In any case, I am sure she would probably be better at dealing with this kind of situation.”

  Within moments, Greg was back with his wife, who looked around and said, “God, this compound is hell on earth.” Anne rushed over to the cage, and Labrecque relinquished his place by the girl, who was still lying there on her side.

  Anne stroked the teenager’s hair. “Nadia! Oh no, what have they done to you?”

  “It’s all right, I think,” Labrecque said. “Just the drugs and the trauma. Do you know her? Who is she?”

  “Nadia...Glinkov, I think is her name. One of several girls from Ozersk these gangsters flew here to sell or use for their vile purposes. She was transported from Vienna in the same truck I was. I heard them bring her straight up here right behind me, and was wondering what had happened to her. I guess Hetzel had her put in here while he was dealing with me.” Anne shuddered as she said this, before continuing. “For his pleasure later, I am sure. I remember, the pervert was quite taken with her already back at the Rasputin.”

  Greg had trouble fathoming the depravity of this supposed friend of his former best friend, Adam. “God, what a monster!” Just then, they heard the sirens.

  “Let’s get some clothing, or at least a blanket, if we can, to cover Nadia,” Anne said.

  Greg looked around, but could see nothing in the room. “I’ll go next door. I’m sure I’ll find something there.”

  When he entered, Julia was still hard at work printing files from the computer. “I’m getting some good material on these criminals here. I have figured out how to access Hetzel’s email and there is lots of incriminating stuff there. What are you finding over there?” she asked, her mind completely absorbed by what was on the screen.

  “There is a Russian girl. A teenager.”

  “Is she okay? God, I don’t believe it. There is no end to these horrors.” She finally looked at Greg, and he could see that she was about to dissolve in tears.

  “Yes. Just drugged. And traumatized. Szekely called an ambulance for her. But everything seems okay.”

  “Phew! I feared the worst.”

  “How are you getting on?”

  “I just want to look at the attachments to some recent emails. There might be something in them.”

  “Good. I think we’ll be ready to go as soon as the ambulance arrives for the girl.”

  “I’ll bring the print-outs and the laptop. I’ll just be another sec.” Julia was engrossed in the file she was opening.

  ***

  Greg heard the medics downstairs as he crossed the corridor. He yelled down, “We’re up here!” before entering the chamber of horrors with the blanket he had taken from Hetzel’s bed, and announced, “The ambulance is here. I’ll just leave the door open so they can hear where we are.”

  “Great, how is Julia getting on?” Labrecque asked.

  “Just about finished, she says.”

  “Good. I think we’re done here too. As soon as the medics take this girl, we’ll join up with Kormendi and the local police.” Szekely was considering the next step already. “Then we’ve got to figure out where these criminals would have gone with all the other girls.”

  “Yeah, did Julia find anything that might help us?” Labrecque asked.

  “She didn’t say. But maybe Kormendi will have come up with something.”

  “We need to interrogate Hetzel,” Anne said, arranging the blanket on Nadia’s body. “He’ll no doubt be able to give us a clue--”

  Just then, the medics burst into the room. Szekely explained the situation, and told them that they would come by the hospital a little later, and that hopefully, by then the patient would be able to answer some questions. Although he agreed with Anne, that Hetzel would likely be a better source for where the next chapter of this sorry saga would unfold.

  ***

  “Where’s Julia?” Anne asked, as they were getting set to leave the room with the cage.

  “Hmm. She must still be over in the bedroom,” Greg answered. “She was just looking at some last email attachments.”

  “Let’s go get her,” Anne said, already opening the door across the hallway.

  Julia was at the desk, eyes glued to the screen. “Come here you guys! You have got to see this! It’s a Russian girl’s website. Nadia Glinkov. I found the reference in an email from He
tzel. I guess it was to Polyakov.”

  “She’s the one the ambulance just took away,” Anne said, as they all gathered around, while Julia opened up a file. The screen came to life, and a smiling picture of the pretty teenager they had just seen off to the hospital came on. This was followed by a shot of Nadia waving to her parents as she crossed the tarmac toward a waiting plane somewhere, and--and the clip just deteriorated from there. Next were some shots of Nadia doing a striptease with a black girl to which Julia said, “That’s Ginger!” as she recognized the dancer from her days at the Revuebar Rasputin.

  “That was at the Revuebar, just a few minutes before I went on stage, and we were then taken upstairs to be sold and brought to this compound,” Anne agreed with her friend. “I was there in the audience. I didn’t know they were filming it. Disgusting.”

  Then, as the music was replaced with a smooth voice speaking over the increasingly decadent pictures, and they came to where they showed Nadia, with her shackled to the bed, Julia, in total shock, uttered the words, “Oh my God, no!” and sank her face into her hands. “They made a video of that too, those perverts.”

  “They made this for Nadia’s father, clearly,” Anne interpreted the situation, as she, too, fought hard to keep calm.

  “Yes, it must have been made to coerce him to do something,” Greg said, agreeing with his wife.

  And then it became obvious: the voice over wanted Mikhail Glinkov, Nadia’s father, to let a chauffeur driven car with Julia, and presumably some highly enriched uranium, through the East Gate of Mayak, in return for not harming, and perhaps releasing, Nadia. Four days hence, next Tuesday, by when presumably, these gangsters had planned to send Julia back to Mayak. Fully under their control, with whatever psychological and physical torture and abuse they would deploy to get her to cooperate.