Searching for Stolen Love Page 38

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  I heard an explosion and then a barrage of gunfire from a pistol. Then the large iron-wrought gate slowly opened, and two blondes emerged from the guardhouse.

  Vans came to life and lurched forward towards the open gate at a full speed. The first van, where Senad sat in the passenger seat, drove through until it reached the front of Sasha's house. The second van came to a screeching halt at the gate as Senad's men tossed me out through the back doors. Then it careened across the lawn to the back of the house.

  Under a crimson, colored moon, a barrage of gunfire tore through the calm night. Then every few seconds, a flash from a grenade illuminated the night in bright flashes. I heard shouts and screams between the gunfire. At some points, soldiers were shooting twenty assault rifles with a barrage of grenade explosions.

  Two blondes ran outside the guardhouse and ran for cover around the outside corner of the thick, brick wall. Then I stood up and ran after the women. I saw Svetlana holding the hands of another blonde. I felt apprehensive as if Svetlana had grabbed the wrong girl on her way out.

  As I came closer, the blonde's face seemed familiar. Before I had stopped, the blonde hopped into my opened arms and embraced me hard.

  She jumped up and down and yelled, “Keith! Keith! Keith!”

  Then familiarity flooded my mind; as I held Yelena. I answered her screams with my own, “Yelena! Yelena! I found you!” I held her tightly.

  Svetlana interrupted them and shouted, “Well Keith, Congratulations. I see you started the next Bosnian War. When I told you to create a diversion, you really created a diversion.”

  Both Yelena and I cried with tears of relief as we held each other tightly while gunfire and grenades invaded the night’s quietness.

  Svetlana shrieked, “Well, Keith, I hate to keep bothering you, but you remember our promise? I met my side of the bargain, and now, you must abide by your side.”

  Yelena embraced me tightly and wouldn’t let go.

  I squeezed my hand into my coat and retrieved the two money bundles.

  Svetlana quickly snatched the money out of my hand, and slipped it into a pouch, attached to her belt. Then Svetlana hugged Yelena from her back and kissed the back of her head. After she let go, she whispered, “Good luck to you, Yelena. I wish you the best.” Next, she stared at me, “Keith, you take good care of her. You're holding one in a million. Then she raised her fist at me, “You treat her well.” Then Svetlana sprinted into the darkness directly towards the sparkling city lights of Budva.

  Yelena and I never saw her again.

  I whispered firmly, “Yelena, we must go now.” Another grenade explosion illuminated the night, as if to punctuate my statement.

  Yelena tossed her blonde wig to the ground, and we sprinted down the mountain directly towards the shoreline. From this height, we could see the sandy beach below, as the moon glimmered off the black, obsidian surface of the Adriatic Sea. We saw the lights from the Budva, twinkling and sparkling in the horizon towards our left.

  We ran and ran until we reached a patch of small trees halfway down the mountain. Gunfire stopped several minutes ago, and now, a chorus of police sirens interrupted the calm darkness. The wailing from the police sirens rose and fell in the distance. At one point, it seemed the sirens were coming nearer but then the sirens faded into the night.

  Yelena and I paused to embrace each other by the trees. Our moist lips searched for each other, becoming re-acquainted. We kissed for several minutes.

  Then Yelena pulled several inches away from me. Her wandering hand found the butt of the gun. She whispered in my ear, ever so softly, “Keith, what’s this?”

  “I’m so sorry Yelena. I know you don’t like guns, but I had to come and rescue you. I planned to use any force I could get my hands on.”

  “Huh huh! I hate to be a bother,” a booming, baritone voice said from a patch of bushes directly behind me.

  Then Adnan stepped through the bushes. In one hand, he held a pistol pointed at my back while in the other hand held a lit match that just lit the dangling cigarette in his mouth.

  “Well Keith, I must congratulate you. I don't know how you did it, but you did it. Please put your hands up slowly, carefully, or I will be forced to kill both of you now.”

  Yelena stiffened as I raised my hands and replied, “Adnan; it has been a long time. Don't take this personally, but I was hoping not to see you again. You know I don’t work for the university any more. I gave Damir my resignation letter.”

  “Well Keith, you murdered my two best friends. I don't know how you did it, but they’re gone. I received confirmation two days ago.”

  “I’m sorry about that Adnan, but with all due respect, you guys kidnapped my girlfriend and sold her to Sasha. I figure I would repay Damir's generosity.”

  “Keith, slowly turn around and step away from your girl,” Adnan demanded as hatred pulsated with shrill undertones in his voice. He planned to murder us while we would watch him do it.

  As I slowly turned around, I felt Yelena grab my gun. Then I faced Adnan.

  Adnan added coldly, “That small war at Sasha's place was your doing? In some ways, I'm glad. You actually did us a favor. However, you killed my best friend, Damir. I cannot forgive you for this!” Anger and fury sharpened the tones in Adnan's voice.

  “I'm sorry about that, Adnan. I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but Damir’s crazy. Come on, he set up a criminal enterprise around a university,” I uttered, hoping to defuse Adnan's rage with logic.

  “I know Damir had his troubles, but he meant well. He founded that university to be his legacy. He wanted to leave something good for this cold, cruel world.”

  I burst into laughter, “Damir couldn’t manage a hotdog stand, let alone a university.”

  Adnan flicked the cigarette into the nearest bush and placed both hands on his gun.

  Then Yelena fired the pistol at Adnan. She emptied all six bullets into Adnan's chest. Yelena continued pulling the gun's trigger, but the gun emitted dry clicks as each shell was already spent.

  Adnan’s face contorted into a shocked look. He looked at Yelena and spotted the gun her hand. Then he fell to the ground dead with a surprised look frozen eternally on his face.

  I grabbed Yelena's hand and pulled her forward while the gun fell to the ground near Adnan's outstretched dead hand. Then we ran and ran until we had reached the shoreline.

  We embraced each other strongly as the waves splashed rhythmically onto the sandy shoreline.

  Yelena began crying while I wiped away her tears. Yelena whispered, “K-e-i-t-h, I s-h-o-t someone!”

  “I know, Yelena. It's okay. He was evil, like Damir and Sasha.” Then I held her firmly as her body shivered and trembled.

  After several minutes, Yelena came to her senses. She whispered, “What about the police? I’m afraid to go to prison. Keith, I can’t go to prison.”

  “Yelena, we’re not caught yet. If the police do catch us, then I’ll confess to all the crimes. You’re innocent.”

  “Keith, what about us? What’ll happen to us?”

  “Yelena, I'm returning home to America, and I’m taking you with me. I think we have seen enough of Bosnia and Montenegro to last a lifetime.”

  Then Yelena and I began kissing again. Afterwards, we both began walking towards the lights of the city while the waves continued to roll softly onto the sandy shores.

  I asked in jest, “Yelena, each time I see you, somehow you become even more beautiful. And I want to show my gorgeous woman this excellent little coffee shop in Old Budva.”

  “Keith, I don’t think I could drink coffee right now. I think I’ve seen enough for one day. I think I rather be alone with you.”

  We continued walking along the beach as the lights and roar of Budva became stronger, brighter after each step.

  Epilogue

  Yelena and I stayed in Budva, Montenegro for a week.

  We met Yelena's mom who stayed several days. Yelena wanted to say good-b
ye to her.

  Then Yelena and I headed to Lyubyana, Slovenia. Along the way, we stopped in Olovo, Bosnia and said good-bye to her father one last time. We had trouble finding his grave as the snow pelted the ground and covered all the tombstones. I held Yelena silently, and she wept as we both stood over his grave.

  Then Yelena and I continued to Slovenia. As we approached the turnoff for Tuzla, I stomped on the gas pedal shooting by the turnoff. We never planned to set foot again in Tuzla. We stayed in Slovenia for a couple of months until the U.S. Embassy approved Yelena's fiancé visa. Then we dashed to the airport and hopped on the next plane to the United States.

  We settled in Heber Springs, Arkansas, where I accepted a low-paying job at the local university. I taught many courses and worked long hours, but Heber Springs was the perfect place to settle down.

  Heber Springs was a small community of 15,000 souls, stranded out in the middle of nowhere, about an hour's drive north of Little Rock. Nothing of any consequence happened there. Both Yelena and I blended in with the locals, occasionally joining the gossip of every little thing that happened in the community.

  Heber Springs rarely saw any violent crime except for maybe a drunk driver, who would plow over a stop sign. Unfortunately, Heber Springs had an epidemic, where many stop signs laid on the grass near the intersections.

  It took months for Yelena to heal. At first, she was scared to go out by herself, and she wouldn’t let me leave her sight, but gradually, she emerged from her protective shell. Closets and car trunks still frightened her, but she would need time for those mental wounds to heal, but I was very patient with her. As she continued making progress, her ordeal in Montenegro would fade in time. Eventually, Yelena would explore the outside. Perhaps, I could enroll her in a couple of courses at my university.

  On one early morning, the sun shone through the curtains, illuminating the whole room. I glanced at our wedding photo on the dresser, where we stood in front of the Justice of the Peace, as he united us in holy matrimony.

  Yelena awakened and started staring at me. Then we exchanged smiles and began kissing, softly at first, then into explosions of passion and intimacy. While I showered and dressed for work, Yelena had prepared a king's breakfast for me.

  Yelena always cooked for me even against my wishes. Sometimes I tried to help her in the kitchen, but Yugoslavian women were so proud, so traditional. She would chase me out of the kitchen with a skillet. Her culture had ingrained the women’s role and duties since birth. Yugoslavian women must take care of the household and their men.

  Approaching the dining room table, I saw a plate of scrambled eggs sprinkled with diced tomatoes, salsa, and cheese, a side order of two wheat toasts lathered with cream cheese, and a hot cup of American coffee with a dollop of cream. I drank half my coffee in one gulp. The American coffee was not as strong as the Bosnian coffee, but I reverted to the old American lifestyle.

  While eating breakfast, I leafed through a newspaper, the Arkansas Democratic Gazette. Buried in the business section on the second page, I read the headline, ‘Shoot-out in Montenegro.’

  I recognized the picture while my face became pale. It was the Renaissance Night Club, and Senad and his gang had a shootout against the police. Five thugs and three policemen were shot and killed during a police raid. This gang had recently gained a stranglehold over the Montenegrin underworld, supplying drugs to all the addicts and operating the city's brothels. The police raided the nightclub to shut the gangster's businesses down.

  My eyes bulged out in awe as I read the grisly details. I wondered if Senad had been counted among the dead.

  Yelena leaned against the refrigerator, drinking a glass of orange juice. She saw my face become pale as I flipped the page of the newspaper. She asked with sharp tones of concern wavering in her voice, “Keith, what's wrong? What did you read?” She studied me intently.

  I snapped the newspaper close, folding it up, and replied, “Oh nothing. I see the stock price is down for Microsoft, and my retirement plan will take another beating.” Then I started chuckling.

  Yelena smiled as she studied my face. She knew I had lied. I know I am a lousy poker player. However, we imposed one simple rule in our household. We, under no circumstances, will talk about what happened in Bosnia and Montenegro.

  We knew it was wrong, burying those memories into the deep graves in our minds, but not enough time had passed for us to accept what happened to us. Our mental anguish and wounds would take years to heal.

  After reading the news story, I estimated Yelena's worth – 20,000 euros in cash, 50,000 euros in drugs, a row of coffins, stuffed with a gangster or criminal, and a long list of less serious felonies. I stared at Yelena, admiring her slim figure, long brunette hair. I wanted to touch her.

  “Seriously, Keith, what did you read?” Yelena pleaded gently.

  “It’s about Montenegro?”

  “Really, anything about us?”

  “No, it’s really a boring story. Nothing about us or anyone we knew or could have known.”

  Then I approached Yelena and started kissing her.

  Yelena let the glass, filled with orange juice fall to the ground, shattering.

  Both Yelena and I were oblivious to the world around us as we became lost in our fervent kisses.

  I started loosening my tie and unbuttoning my dress shirt while I pulled Yelena towards the bedroom. I wanted to spend more quality time with her before going to work.

  “Keith, you’ll be late for work. What about your students?” Yelena teased.

  “They can start the class without me. Right now, I want you. A story in the newspaper reminded me of my love for you, and the troubles I went through to get you back. I want to spend more time with you. To hell with my students, they can wait.”

  Yelena smiled, which illuminated the room. She began slipping out of her clothes, and she would reward her hero handsomely.