Chapter 50

Fiona and Lucy were deep in conversation, planning their evening and the much-needed rest they wanted before their big day of competition. “You know, Lucy,” Fiona started with a grin, “I was thinking about that older man we met—the one in the wheelchair. My dad’s a veteran, and I think I’d really like to go see that monument he mentioned.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Totally. Something quiet to focus on. We shouldn’t be partying before the competition. We should be so grateful to be here.”

Their conversation shifted to a more heartfelt tone as they thought about their families. “It’s important to remember the sacrifices our families made,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “My granddad fought in World War II. It’s in our blood to honor their memory.”

“Same here,” Fiona agreed. “Visiting that memorial will be our way of paying tribute to them. How about we get there just after six?” Lucy smirked and added playfully, “Plus, it’ll give us a break from those cute guys on the athletics team. You know, the ones you keep ogling.” Fiona laughed, nudging Lucy. “Oh, please. You’re the one who can’t stop talking about the tall one with the dimples!”

They both giggled, feeling a mixture of excitement and reverence for the day ahead. Their playful banter about the boys lightened the mood, but they both knew the importance of their plans for the evening. The decision to visit the memorial was a way to ground themselves and honor their family’s legacies before the competition.

They left to go downstairs for some lunch, leaving their room behind. Unbeknownst to them, soon after they left, the room door was opened, and a man slipped in. Moving swiftly and quietly, he took out the cameras and bugs. He then took Fiona’s USA cap and carefully placed a tracker into the lining of the cap, ensuring it was well-hidden.

With his task complete, the man left the room as stealthily as he had entered, leaving no trace of his intrusion. Fiona and Lucy, completely unaware, continued to enjoy their lunch, discussing their plans and their gratitude for being part of such an important event.

Mekonnen was getting fed up. He had another work errand planned and had been ordered to wait at a spot near the city center for three hours now. He wondered who he was supposed to give a lift to. Would these be unaware victims or linked to the masterminds, his employers? He was told to say that “Dmitri” had sent him to pick them up.

After what felt like an eternity, Mekonnen was surprised to see a man pushing another man in a wheelchair approaching him. The man in the wheelchair had white hair and looked like an invalid.

Mekonnen straightened up, preparing to play his part. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew better than to deviate from the plan. As the pair got closer, Mekonnen cleared his throat and said, “Dmitri sent me to pick you up.”

The man pushing the wheelchair nodded, a grim expression on his face. “Good. We’re ready.”

Mekonnen’s mind raced with questions, but he knew this wasn’t the time for them. He opened the car door and helped the man in the wheelchair get settled inside. The wheelchair couldn’t be folded, and he barely managed to close the trunk, having to tie it down with some string. As they drove off, Mekonnen couldn’t help but glance at the rearview mirror, catching sight of the old man’s weary eyes. For now, his job was to get them to their destination, no questions asked.

Mekonnen was instructed to drive them to the Field of Athletes Memorial. Perhaps these men were veterans from the 1990s war, coming to pay their respects, he thought.

“Park here, please,” said the man in the wheelchair.

“How long will you be?” Mekonnen asked, trying to gauge the situation.

“We will be as long as we need to be. Others died, so we need to respect them! Just park here and wait for us,” the man replied firmly.

Mekonnen nodded and parked the car, watching as the man pushed the wheelchair-bound veteran towards the memorial. As the minutes ticked by, Mekonnen’s thoughts drifted to his own plans. With the money he had, he was determined to leave Bosnia behind and start fresh. This would be his last errand for these mysterious employers.

Fiona and Lucy loved Sarajevo; they felt so safe in the city. Despite it being dark, everywhere was peaceful.

“This is so not like Chicago,” laughed Fiona. “There is no way I could do this after dark there.”

They moved through the graveyard, taking photos and trying to be respectful about the brutal war they had read about.

“Oh my God,” said Lucy. “It’s that old man in the wheelchair and his friend!”

“What a coincidence, but I guess he did recommend this place to us. We should say hi!” said Fiona.

The two men looked somber and in a prayerful mood near the memorial, which was now deserted. In reality, they were both engrossed in their phones, showing that the tracker hidden in Fiona’s baseball cap was very close by.

As Fiona and Lucy approached, Fiona called out softly, “Hello again! We took your advice and came to visit the memorial.”

The men looked up from their phones, startled for a moment, but then quickly composed themselves. The man in the wheelchair gave a gentle smile, masking the urgency of their real task. “It’s good to see you here,” he said. “This place holds a lot of history and memories.”

Lucy glanced around, feeling a sense of reverence. “We can see that. It’s very peaceful and solemn.”

“Say,” said Fiona, “would it be too much to ask to take a photo with you? Don’t mean to be disrespectful...”

The man in the wheelchair mulled it over and seemed to think. “Why not? You seem like nice girls.” He looked all around him, as did the other man who took Fiona’s camera to take the photo.

“It’s dark, so you have to use the flash,” said Fiona helpfully to the man, who hesitated before taking the camera. She then skipped back to the wheelchair-bound man.

The man in the wheelchair wondered why they had not yet asked his name. He was also a little put out by their disrespectful short athletic shorts they wore beneath their puff jackets, displaying all their legs. They obviously felt safe here even after dark, though they perhaps should have thought more about respecting the dead.

The two girls stood on either side of the wheelchair, smiling into the camera. They did not notice that the man in the wheelchair had picked out two metal sticks from under the blanket over his legs and held them now in both hands. As the girls said, “cheese,” he held both sticks between their legs. He smiled into the camera, glad to have such easy access to their bare flesh for this purpose.

Each girl was surprised at the intimate touch, but before they could react further, a shock of convulsions went through them.

Lucy glanced around, feeling a sense of reverence. “We can see that. It’s very peaceful and solemn.”

“Say,” said Fiona, “would it be too much to ask to take a photo with you? Don’t mean to be disrespectful...”

The man in the wheelchair mulled it over and seemed to think. “Why not? You seem like nice girls.” He looked all around him, as did the other man who took Fiona’s camera to take the photo.

“It’s dark, so you have to use the flash,” said Fiona helpfully to the man, who hesitated before taking the camera. She then skipped back to the wheelchair-bound man.

The man in the wheelchair wondered why they had not yet asked his name. He was also a little put out by their disrespectful short athletic shorts they wore beneath their puff jackets, displaying all their legs. They obviously felt safe here even after dark, though they perhaps should have thought more about respecting the dead.

The two girls stood on either side of the wheelchair, smiling into the camera. They did not notice that the man in the wheelchair had picked out two metal sticks from under the blanket over his legs and held them now in both hands. As the girls said, “cheese,” he held both sticks between their legs.

Each girl was surprised at the intimate touch, but before they could react further, a shock of convulsions went through them. Fiona and Lucy collapsed to the ground, unconscious from the shock.

Quickly, the “invalid” jumped out of the wheelchair. The wheelchair was swiftly taken apart, revealing two bags with gags and cuffs hidden within. The girls’ phones and watches were pocketed by the former invalid, who then gagged and cuffed the unconscious girls, placing them into the black bags. The bags were then carried to the car along with the disassembled wheelchair.

Mekonnen was shocked to see the two men approaching his car with two large sleeping bags carrying the wheelchair. “What happened to the invalid?” he thought to himself. Should he drive off? But he hesitated, and soon both men were at his car.

“Open the boot!” said the former wheelchair pusher with a commanding tone.

Mekonnen’s mind raced, but he knew he was in too deep to back out now. Reluctantly, he got out of the car and opened the boot. The men quickly and efficiently loaded the bags and the remaining parts of the wheelchair into the trunk. The former invalid looked at Mekonnen with a hard gaze. “Drive, and don’t ask questions,” he ordered.

Mekonnen swallowed hard, got back into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.

“Go here,” the man commanded, handing Mekonnen a slip of paper with an address scrawled on it.

Mekonnen glanced at the address, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He drove through the dimly lit streets of Sarajevo. The silence in the car was heavy, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle from the men in the back seat.

The address led them to a row of storage units on the outskirts of the city. Mekonnen pulled up to the designated unit and killed the engine, his heart pounding in his chest.

The former invalid and his companion quickly got out of the car and moved to the trunk, opening it and retrieving the black bags containing Fiona and Lucy. Mekonnen watched them silently, his mind still calculating his next move.

“Open the storage unit,” the former wheelchair pusher ordered, tossing Mekonnen a set of keys.

Mekonnen opened the unit and was surprised to see a large black box in the unit, along with other miscellaneous items. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized a laptop and some electronic items that belonged to him. Shocked and confused, he turned around to see the shutter being pulled down, and the two men now facing him, each with a gun drawn. “What’s going on here?” Mekonnen demanded, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fear gripping him.

Pembroke, now tiring of his makeup and white hair wig, gestured to one of the black bags with a figure wiggling inside, the sound of muffled murmurs emanating from it. “Open that one,” he ordered.

Mekonnen unzipped the bag with trembling hands. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Fiona inside, dressed in her jacket, shorts, and trainers. She was cuffed and gagged, her face tear-stained and terrified, eyes wide with fear.