CHAPTER 36. WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 7, 02:00.
Caramarin threw himself into the ditch. He rubbed mud over his hands and face. Then crouching, made his way through the tangled undergrowth back towards the three gangsters.
He had to give it to them; they'd seen enough war movies to know not to bunch up together. They were moving in a ragged combat line down the hedgerow. Placid and another man in this field and a third in the field with the pick-up.
He lay face down in the ditch, with the shotgun under him. He stilled his breathing as much as possible. Flat, shallow breaths only. Above the sound of the vegetation moving in the night breeze he heard the hunters' footsteps pass above him.
Caramarin waited. Not too long as he couldn't let them reach the culvert. He raised his eyes above the lip of the ditch. All three men were between him and the storm drain now. He aimed his shotgun at the lone man and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell uselessly. The click sounded loud in the near silence. He pulled the second trigger.
No misfire there. The boom crashed deafeningly on his ears. The man staggered and fell forwards. Dropping the now useless shotgun, Caramarin was up and out of the ditch instantly with a single leap through the gun smoke. He raced the few steps to the fallen man. Diving to the mud, he used the man's body as cover as he snatched up the fallen Kalash. Now the odds were a bit better.
The prone man writhed. Caramarin didn't think the man had long left. His blast had made a mess of his neck and shoulder. Gore poured onto his suit and to the muddy ground. He could've cared less.
Two bursts from the other field scythed through branches and trees and dug into the muck near him. Caramarin did not waste ammo like the two gangsters. He fired a couple of single shots to keep their heads down. He felt through the dying thug's jacket but found no more ammunition. Disappointed but not surprised the amount they had been wasting. Took his bankroll, though.
"Hey, Cunt, we're still going to fuck you over."
He aimed a couple more shots at the voice in the other field. Now Placid and the other man knew Caramarin also had a Kalash, they seemed reluctant to engage. The dying man spasmed once, twice then lay still. Not raising himself, using his elbows, Caramarin wriggled on his belly back towards the culvert.
A burst of fire slammed into the corpse behind him rolling it over, jerking into the mud. Caramarin pressed his face to the earth, the dirt working its way into his mouth and nose. He wriggled forward again, getting as far as possible from the shooting.
Caramarin thought rapidly, remembering his training from years ago. Didn't want to fire and give away his position with muzzle flashes. Knew that if he moved slowly and carefully in the dark, he didn't think the others would see him. On the other hand, how long could Ekaterina lie in a concrete pipe with gunfire going off? He trusted her, she seemed sensible, but didn't want to leave her too long.
Caramarin continued his slow crawl. Breathing silently, through his mouth, his ears straining at every noise. He approached the hedgerow again, higher up than before and nearer to the storm drain. He peered through the branches and undergrowth.
He got to his knees, the Kalash held out before him, finger resting on the trigger guard. Couldn't see the others anywhere. He pushed further into the hedgerow, moving slowly, easing the branches aside, ignoring the sudden sting of nettles on his hand, the scratch of bramble thorns snagging his camo jacket.
Where were they? He looked back over his shoulder. Shit, they'd separated. One thug must've followed him through the hedge and was now in the field behind him. He was crouched by the body, turning it over. Dunno what he expected to find out there.
But where was Litovchenko? A glimpse of white shirt. Oh shit, he was by the culvert itself. Had he heard Ekaterina? Did he know she was there? The good thing was Caramarin now knew where the two men were but the bad thing was he was between them like the meat in a sandwich about to be eaten.
He breathed deep, steadied himself. He pivoted around behind him, breathed out and on the exhale shot a burst at the thug behind him. The bullets zipped across the field slamming into the hood, knocking him back several metres, a spray of gore fanning out into the night. If the man screamed, Caramarin didn't hear it above the blast. Instantly, he spun round and fired a burst at Litovchenko.
Except he didn't. Fired one, maybe two shots and then the firing pin fell uselessly.
Placid roared out "Cunt." Sprang towards Caramarin firing from the hip like he'd seen far too many Red Army soldiers do in far too many war films. Caramarin hurled himself into the ditch. A root or boulder punched him in the back. A red tide of agony washed over him. He lay back as shredded leaves and branches fell into the ditch around him. Caramarin felt in his pocket for his little CZ-75 pistol.
There are no words to describe the ultimate sinking feeling of horror when he couldn't feel the pistol. He groped in the other front pocket. Not there.
Another burst of fire above him from the assault rifle. Caramarin started to his feet just as Litovchenko appeared on the lip of the ditch.
"There you are, Cunt." Placid aimed the Kalash straight at his chest. A grin spread over his face. He slowly lowered the assault rifle dragging the moment out, pointing it at his groin.
"The boss would love me to blow your fuckin' balls off."
"Funny, didn't know you were that way inclined. Thought you only got it up for little girls."
"What!"
A movement behind Litovchenko. The big man started to turn his head and then toppled forward into the ditch.
Ekaterina stood on the edge holding a bloody rock. She dropped it and shuddered. Caramarin picked up the Kalash and smashed the butt down onto Litovchenko's head. He held up his hand and Ekaterina helped pull him out of the ditch. He clutched her tight and kissed her. Now he felt the CZ-75 tucked into his jeans waist band.
"Thank you." Her body felt warm and soft and tender after the horror of the last few minutes.
She looked up at him. Her eyes were dry but she must be shocked by what she had just been through. He couldn't let her brood on it. Gave her a little shake.
"C'mon, tough girl. We've still got to get out of here. Not too far to go now."
Together, they crossed a road and staggered across the next field in between rows of poly tunnels, making their way towards the far line of trees that marked the Danube. They clung to each other for support and comfort. Caramarin was impressed. This was one tough cookie. If she got through the night in one piece, she'd make out all right.
The poly tunnels were empty now. Empty of crops but there was still the staging along the sides and stalks and remnants of the harvest scattered about. The breeze rattled the plastic sides and shadows loomed up on all sides. Ekaterina held Caramarin's hand for security as they walked between the tunnels, starting at almost every sudden noise.
Behind them, on the road a splash of headlights and a squeal of brakes.
"Come on, hurry up," said Caramarin pulling Ekaterina forward.
A burst of automatic fire raked the plastic behind them, shredding it to pieces. There was a shout and another burst. Caramarin dragged Ekaterina into an opening of the tunnel alongside. He threw her to the ground and covered her with his body.
He heard running footsteps approach, come closer, and then pass them by. In the near pitch darkness of the poly tunnel he wasn't surprised the man had missed them.
They stood and made their way down the middle of the tunnel, hands stretched out in front of them. Stumbled several times but couldn't get lost in the dark. Not in the middle of a tunnel. Up front, more dark shadows and the dark of not knowing where their enemy might be. That was the worst, the doubt, the uncertainty, the not knowing if a burst from a Kalash would rub them out at any time.
Maybe the wind shifted direction because now Caramarin could smell the river before them, that flat, vaguely metallic smell. The plastic sides rattled and rustled. But the wind brought voices from up ahead. Couldn't tell what they said. Then the reflected glare of a powerful torch or searchlight darting from side to side.
Once again, Caramarin's combat trained reflexes took over. He flung Ekaterina down. Up front, shouting. Then a burst from a Kalash blasting above the rattling of the tunnel. Instantly, a fusillade from several more assault rifles replying to the first.
"What's going on?" whispered Ekaterina, her voice tickling Caramarin's ear.
"I dunno, but I reckon our friend's playing with the border patrol."
A few more shots shattered the night. Then, after a pause one single shot.
"That good or bad?"
"Bad for him. No doubt about that. But I don't want 'em to find us. Especially if he's hurt any of them. They might just gun us down thinkin' we're part of the same gang. They're the sort who shoot first and ask questions later. C'mon, girl."
Caramarin helped Ekaterina to her feet.
"We'll try and keep our distance."
Fetched out his knife and slashed the side of the poly tunnel and led her over to the next tunnel. Cut that side and into the deeper darkness inside. Forgot the staging and fell flat on his face. A section of the shelves fell over with him knocking plants and irrigation pipes to the floor. The crash sounded very loud in the night. Ekaterina giggled as he picked himself up.
She stopped giggling as the powerful torch shone their way. Once again, Caramarin dragged Ekaterina to the earth. The torchlight shone closer, reflecting off the transparent sides of the plastic, breaking up into dozens of different points of light. Caramarin gestured to Ekaterina and they crawled away from the light under the staging.
Heard voices. A shout summoning the rest of the patrol to the cut in the side.
"Down," he whispered. He peered behind him and saw one, two, three men enter their poly tunnel through the cut. The patrol flashed their torches around and then walked up the centre of the tunnel. Within a minute, the men were up to where they were hiding under the staging. If Caramarin had put his arm out, he could have touched their boots as they passed.
"We'll never find anyone in these tunnels," Caramarin heard one of the patrol moan as they passed.
"Might of been an animal knocked those shelves over, corp."
"An animal cut that hole in the sides, did it? I'm telling you there's more fucking smugglers around. Keep your eyes open. And keep careful," said the man in the lead.
The patrol passed by, torches swinging from side to side as they continued down the tunnel to the far end. As soon as they were out of sight, Caramarin stood and cut a hole in the opposite side of the tunnel and out.
The strain was starting to tell on Ekaterina now and she was shivering, whether with cold or fear he didn't know. Caramarin cut his way through the next two poly tunnels, going more carefully this time, taking care to make as little noise as possible.
When he thought he'd put enough distance between themselves and the border patrol, he headed through the poly tunnel in the direction of the river. Couldn't see their torches or anything but didn't want to hang about in case they called up a dog unit or a helicopter with thermal imaging.
They pushed through the birch trees and came to the Danube. Caramarin had originally intended to cross much higher up, nearer the border town of Izmail. He didn't know this area of farmland on the edge of the nature reserve so well. On the far side of the river was Romania. His old homeland. He thought about crossing with her but Odessa was home now.
At this point, the river was about eight hundred metres across, broad and slow moving. Birch trees lined both banks. In the day it would look beautiful but at night, he thought the blackness looked sinister. Too many hidden dangers. Apart from a container barge heading up river it was deserted.
He drew breath.
"Think you can swim that?"
"I don't know. Perhaps."
"Look for a float – a branch or a pallet or something to support you."
They walked upstream along a footpath. Couldn't help but notice the worried looks she was giving the river. Maybe a hundred metres further on she spotted a large white object on the bank. Pulling it out from the mud, Caramarin blessed their stroke of luck. Only litter but possibly life saving litter. It was the polystyrene packing off a fridge freezer or washing machine.
"Right," he said, taking a plastic bag from his camo jacket. "Time to go."
He dropped her passports and some money into the bottom of the bag. She stripped to her bra and pants and put her clothes and shoes in. Caramarin sealed it.
"You've got the numbers I gave you?"
She nodded.
"Why don't you come with me? You can't go back there. Those gangsters will kill you."
"They haven't managed yet. And I've got business to sort out." Also, he couldn't face seeing his brother-in-law. Ekaterina flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"Thank you. Oh, please please come with me."
"I can't. Now get going before that patrol comes back."
He watched as she pushed the polystyrene float into the Danube and lay on it. She kicked off with her feet and out into the river. The gentle current pulled her downstream.
"It's freezing."
"Keep going and you'll get warm. Good luck and take care." He blew her a kiss then watched her push off. He was glad she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. Watched for a minute and then made his way back through the fields.