Page 30 of Croatia Collateral

Dax walked across the carpeted floor, bearing down on the shoe every other step. When he turned, he didn’t see anything but the carpet as it had been before he walked across it.”

Dmytro stood near the door to the suite, his hand on the light switch. “Watch.” He flipped the switch, plunging the room into darkness. Then, a click sounded, and the glow of a blacklight lit the room in an eerie purple glow.

Dmytro carried a flashlight with a black light bulb toward them, shining it on the carpet.

As he neared, the faint outline of a shoe heel glowed in the darkness.

“What is it?” Dax asked.

“Invisible ink.” Dmytro walked back to the door and flipped the light switch. With the room lit with the overhead lights, he turned off the blacklight and flipped the switch again.

The carpet remained black, with no sign of the heel print.

Again, Dmytro turned on the overhead lights, laid the flashlight on the cart and crossed to where Dax and Giva stood. “I drilled a hole into the sole of the shoe and inserted a packet of invisible ink.”

Dax removed the shoe and looked at the heel. He couldn’t see where the hole had been drilled unless he studied it carefully. Dmytro had sealed it carefully and blended the color to match.

Dmytro took the shoe and turned it over. “I drilled little holes in the heel to allow the ink to flow through when you press hard on the heel. It is not perfect, but it will work if you use it wisely and don’t run out of ink before you get to where you are going.” He handed the shoe back to Dax.

Dax grinned. “Where did Hammer find you?”

“Who says he found me?” the older man said, his face poker-straight. “I have set up operations in the room a floor below yours. I will not be with the others when you go to the designated location. I will be in contact with everyone, except you, of course.”

“Thanks for looking out for me.” Dax shook his head as he stared down at the shoe Dmytro had rigged with invisible ink. “Take care of the others.”

“Konechno.” Of course. Dmytro’s brow dipped low. “The word on the dark web is that they are planning something that could spark World War III. My family is in Switzerland, alive and well. I would prefer they stay that way. I would prefer a world where I can enjoy grandchildren someday.” He held out his hand. “Udachi.”

Dax recognized the Russian words for of course and good luck. As part of his training in Marine Force Recon, he had been required to learn another language, preferably in the area of operations they’d most likely serve. He’d learned enough Pashto and Arabic to get by in the Middle East. Because he had an aptitude for absorbing languages quickly, he’d studied Russian as well.

He didn’t consider himself an expert linguist by any means, but he’d learned enough Russian he could read most messages and make out a lot of the words in the Russian movies he’d checked out of the library at the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center (DLIFLC), located Monterey, California.

On vacation in Czechia after leaving the Marine Corps, he’d been surprised he’d retained as much as he had when he ran into a man from the Ukraine and had a long discussion about US versus European football.

Dax gripped Dmytro’s hand. “Spasibo.”

Dmytro’s eyes lit up for a moment, his grip tightening around Dax’s. “You will do well.” Dmytro left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Giva picked up a piece of cheese. “Do you speak Russian?”

Dax shrugged. “I learned a little.”

“It will be useful with the oligarchs. Evan Maas speaks Russian,” Giva said. “How’s your German and Japanese?” She popped the piece of cheese into her mouth.

“I can understand a lot of German. I’m not familiar with Japanese.” He frowned. “Please don’t tell me Evan Maas speaks Japanese.”

Giva grinned. “Not that I know of. Though it would’ve been nice to understand whatever Yamaguchi says. I believe all the members of the Nexus Collective have a good understanding of English.”

“Hopefully, they’ll conduct the meeting in English, or I’ll struggle to gather all the relevant information.” He shook his head.

“Your language training was another consideration for bringing you on board for this assignment,” Giva said.

“Which languages do you speak?” Dax asked.

Giva nodded. “Hebrew, English, French, Spanish and Russian.”

Dax gave her a twisted smile. “I feel like a slacker.”

“In Israel, we learn languages at a younger age,” she said. “It makes a difference.”

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