Page 25 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight
The Bosniak’s smile disappeared. He tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his flip-flop.
“My brother, I’m sorry. They changed my shift. I called you. Didn’t you get my message?” He handed Emir the passports.
“For your wife’s sake, I hope you fuck better than you lie.”
The border officer quailed. He’d never known Emir to swear or to speak in any vulgar terms.
“I failed, obviously. But I have solved everything. See?” He pointed to the passports in Emir’s hands. “No scans.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course.”
Emir stepped even closer. “As sure as your life?”
The Bosniak nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. He has no reason to lie. But unfortunately, it will cost you five hundred euros, cash. Now.”
Emir glanced over at the tollbooth. The Serb looked up just at that moment, a thin smile creasing his narrow face. Emir nodded his unsmiling thanks and silently cursed the incredible greed of the Orthodox thief. He reached again for his wallet. All he had on hand was two hundred and forty euros in bills. He handed it to the Bosniak.
“Brother, this won’t do.”
“It’s all I have.”
“But I made him a deal. He says his mother needs a surgery.” The claim was not unreasonable, Emir knew. Health care was free but of poor quality in Bosnia. The best medical services were privately provided, and expensive.
“If you don’t pay him, he’ll call those passports in and report you.” The Bosniak lowered his voice for effect. “I know this man. He’s not kidding.”
Emir smiled. “I’m not kidding, either. That’s all I have right now. You’ll have to make up the difference.”
The Bosniak pointed at his empty pockets. “I don’t have any money with me—”
Emir’s eyes burned like smoldering coals, cutting him off in mid-sentence.
The Bosniak swallowed hard. “No worries. I’ll take care of it, Emir. I swear.”
For a moment, Emir considered killing this fool and the Serb with the pistol in his waistband, but his rage cooled.
“Yes, you will. We’re leaving now.”
The Bosniak nodded. “Please tell our friend how sorry I am to have failed tonight. It won’t happen again.”
Emir’s eyes softened. He laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I know it won’t. Thanks for showing up when we needed you.”
The man sighed audibly. “Of course. Safe travels, brother.”
Emir jogged back to the van, fired up the engine, and handed the passports back before driving away.Everything is fine now,he told himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the mission had nearly been compromised by that lazy idiot. Half of the money he handed over tonight would probably wind up in the Bosniak’s pocket as well.
And the Serb? Who can trust a Serb to keep his mouth shut?
Emir picked up his phone again and hit the speed-dial number of a true brother he trusted completely. The man was local, and talented. Emir whispered in Bosnian and in code, though the tourists weren’t paying any attention to him. By this time tomorrow, the Serb would be dead without suspicion in a car accident or a drowning.
The Bosniak would die within the week, but only after Emir found a suitable replacement.
15
KOBARID, SLOVENIA
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his creaking wooden chair, an empty styrofoam cup in front of him. More than anything, he needed to pee. But he was hoping the interrogation would be over in a few minutes and he didn’t want to leave the room.
