The Dayton's Waltz

By Ian Brisbin

By the end of 1995. the bloody war in the former Yugoslavia was stopped in American town Dayton. The peace agreement was finaly signed.

CIA, French secret Service, and Pentagon immediately create their own "security spy net". The Dayton agreement must succeed!
But, the situation on the ground is very difficult for the secret services. Their agents are dying like flies! Some traces are telling that one secret criminal organization, set up in Easter Europe, is very active on the territory of former Yugoslavia.

The secret criminal organization has only one aim: they want to do a sabotage on IFOR, UN troops for peace in the former Yugoslavia, and with that sabotage destroy the Dayton agreement!

Simon Thom, the head of the French Secret Service, ask for help his old friend Hamilton, who is one of the most powerful man in the Italian Mob and the former head of the criminal organization in Croatia.

Soon, Hamilton finds out who the head of the dangerous organization which wants to destroy the Dayton agreement is: Viktor Petrovski, the former KGB agent. Hamilton also finds out one other thing: Petrovski killed his fiance in Moscow a few years ago. Hamilton wants his death!

Hamilton, CIA, Pentagon, French Secret Service and the Mob go together against Petrovski and his organization. Every step of their plan and action must be precise and infallible, like a step in the waltz.
Simply, their dance, "The Dayton's Waltz", must be danced perfectly!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian Brisbin
• Release date: May 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311941046

Ian Brisbin

Tihomil Hamilton ((born 1967) - pen name Ian Brisbin - lives and works in Croatia. He has been intensively involved in journalism for the past twenty years (as a freelancer), movie reviewing and has tried his hand at writing as well. Working as a journalist and movie reviewer, he co-operated with numerous Croatian respectable film and cultural magazines and web sites. In 1998 in Croatia he published a spy novel 'The Dayton’s Waltz' that gained significant success.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Zagreb, Croatia, 1995 November

Hamilton arrived just as it was arranged. Although the five floors big house was in the city centre the entrance hall was empty. That fact was proficiently used by the owners of flats which were on the ground and first floor. They rented them as business facilities to different companies.

Even yesterday Hamilton was in Rome where he had been spending his long looked-for holidays. However, Simon’s call made him break his vacation. Simon would only have to say that the matter was of utmost importance. As many times before, Simon could not rebuff his cry for help.

Walking slowly, he arrived to the fifth floor. He would always go on foot. He didn't like the elevators and used them when it was really necessary, mostly in sky-scrapers where only looking at them made him feel dizzy and sick. Moving on slowly, he arrived soon to the apartment with no name written on the front door. He rang the bell and waited. After a few moments the door opened.

I knew it was you, said Simon, giving Hamilton his hand to greet him.

I am sure you have been expecting nobody else but me. You don't have guests often, especially not around here, said Hamilton and reached for Simon’s hand.

I'm glad you have come, Simon closed the front door and showed him into the small two bedroom apartment. Come in! I've done some redecorations around here, but, practically everything is as it used to be.

Hamilton entered the room which was on the right from the small entrance hall. The room itself was not too big and it showed Simon's taste. In other words it was decorated as he felt was the best. A big writing-desk, a sofa and two armchairs occupied most of the space. One must not forget to add a cabinet with a door which had, for Simon, unavoidable safety lock. It was placed next to the wall on the right from the desk.

I must say that you didn't give yourself the overmuch trouble with the decoration, said Hamilton and sat on the sofa, Still, I've always liked your flat.

True, but you should know best how little time I spend here, said Simon, and Hamilton placed himself more comfortably in the sofa.

So, tell me what's so urgent. I don't like breaking my holiday, especially not if the reason are secret services. Besides, since when am I so important for the espionage world that they can't live without me?

You said it right, began Simon talking, more of us need your help.

What are you trying to tell me?

"It's not just the question of my organisation. There are Americans, British, Canadians, and not to mention everyone by name, all of them who are placed on the territories of ex-Yugoslavia, whether they are in Bosnia, Croatia, Serbia or Macedonia.

Hamilton twitched. It was not what he expected. Although he had no idea what it was all about, he felt very upset. Never was he a part of the espionage world, for he never liked it much. He was quite sure that this time it was going to be impossible for him to avoid that world.

He looked at Simon penetratingly. He was in his fifties, unable to dedicate himself to anything but his work. Simon was single, without any permanent residence. His successful career in the jaws of espionage world began when he was still a student. He was the best in his class and French secret service recruited him. He didn't choose much. Simon was too keen upon action and excitement. He got all he ever wanted: money, women, fancy cars, travelling and, what he wanted most at the time, action and excitement he could never even dream of. Still, he didn't think about his future then. He was too naive and young to realise that it would never be possible for him to lead a normal life. Later he realised that it was the price he had to pay for all that was offered by the profession he had chosen.

For Hamilton, Simon was a lonely wolf, who had been hunting loot which was always slipping away. And, most of all, the wolf knew that he himself was a target. What he didn't know was when was he to meet his hunters waiting only for him.

Once, long ago, we made a deal not to involve me into any of your dirty spy business. I don't like the world you live in. It's too dirty for me!, said Hamilton with an angry voice and almost stood up, That's not what I want!"

I know, but I really do need your help. This time, to put it that way, I need your direct help.

You have never asked from me something like that. Until now what you needed from me were the information on certain people from my surroundings. Are your bosses trying to recruit Mob's bigwigs for their service. Is that how they are trying to enlarge their presence in Italy and the States?! I thought the cold war was long behind us.

I know that I am in a dirty business, said Simon calmly, We are helping each other because we both have the benefit of it. You must be honest and admit to yourself that you are no saint. You play dirty sometimes just as I do. You are constantly forgetting one thing. The organisation you are working for is called the Mob.

It does not mean that I am in a spy business. Besides, the Mob has reorganised or at least one part of it. Some things have changed, said Hamilton calmly realising that Simon was trying to provoke him. I have never done some things for the simple reason I was never interested in them. I stick to my gambling-dens.

And dope, of course, only sometimes, Simon looked at Hamilton with an icy expression in his eyes. Croatia is one of your territories. Everyone knows that. But, I haven't called you here to talk full of salt how bad dope is and so on. I have also no intention of skirmishing with you about the organisations we are working for. Those things are here to stay as they are now. You have your authorities in all that as much as I have. If I can kill my President and stay clean, it's my business only. The State is ruled by the secret services. That's me in my country, but I don't care a damn for a thing called patriotism and for the first and last defence line of my country. I might say the same for you. You can talk about it for hours and days, but all of that, together with my explication, is shit.So, if you have cooled down a bit , could we start talking about the reasons I've asked you to come here in the first place.

O.K., I agree. Let's quit the craps.

I'm glad to hear that. Would you like to have a drink before I go on?

No, thanks I'm still exhausted from the trip."

As you wish. , Simon took out a bottle of whiskey and a glass, poured it in and drank off a bit."

Well, I believe that you know the world is fed up with warring on these territories. Peace initiative was successfully completed. All that was led by the Americans who are, however, persistently claiming that they aren't the world policemen and are, at the same time, sticking their noses into every shit on this planet. But, let's skip the speculations on that subject. The things on the field are going on as it was planned. At least for now there weren't any major problems., Simon paused for a moment and took a sip of whiskey, However, a large problem has appeared recently. Someone does not like the peace initiative and Dayton at all.

Interesting. As if it was not expected. At least they should have thought about it.

They did but not like that. Someone simply wants to leave the things as they are now. If the hostilities begin on these territories again, he's going to make merry and go on behaving as it pleases him.

Who are they you are talking about?

You aren't going to like that part. It's about a new crime organisation cropped up unexpectedly in a few years only. Or to be more precise, they have been present here ever since the beginning of the war and the break down of various regimes on the territories of Eastern Europe. They have fingers in many different pies: drug trafficking, smuggling weapons ... you should know what goes with that province. They are strong and ruthless.

In what way are they strong and ruthless?

Well, got through with a very noisy assassination not long ago.

You aren't talking about the assassination in Macedonia, are you?

That's exactly what I was talking about. They just don't choose the means to get what they want.

I might assume that there are some evidences leading to them. A car-bomb assassination on the President of Macedonia is a matter of deep moment.

That's true. However, that is the biggest problem of them all. In other words, it is not an ordinary organisation.

All organisations are the same. There is a big boss, headquarters and all that goes with that. The difference is only in the way they operate. You can't speculate a lot about that.

That's what I thought at first. However, things aren't standing the way you and I think. The organisation I am talking about has something very interesting in it's essence. It has an international character.

That's impossible., said Hamilton as if he got scalded, It can't be done. The basic problem of an organisation which has an international character is in the way it runs the business. Too many speculations about the ways its business should be organised and the possibility of confronting with other already existing organisations on the territory they are planning to operate. Nobody has had any success in that so far.

I have already told you that all that is very interesting.The traces we have so far, lead to the conclusion I 've just presented you.

You are pulling my leg, said Hamilton with a trace of disbelief in his voice, For years that I have been working for the Mob, and for it's very top, never have I met such organisation or even one similar to that. An organisation of that type can only cause conflicts with the local ones. Such organisation would convincingly loose and nobody would hear for them after that. I'm telling you once again, it's simply impossible .

Maybe. Still, some of my men got hurt because of that organisation. Moffit even stopped counting the dead.

Moffit?, said Hamilton wondering.

Yes. I've told you there are more of us. I don't think I have to mention to you that Moffit is expecting you today.

I could have guessed. CIA and you are inseparable! It's surprising you aren't sleeping together.

You never know. Well, let's drop the subject for now. The stories going around are rather interesting, said Simon with a smile on his face, People are telling all kinds of things.

I thought as much. Well, let it be. Tell me about the dead.

Oh, no. That's not my job. You'll hear all about it from Moffit. The fat guy crapped all over and now he has to lick his wounds. If it hadn't been for him, some of my men would still be alive.

So, he's been playing cowboys and Indians again forgetting that that's how his favourite general Caster made a fool of himself .

Something like that.

So, on what terms are you? Who's in charge of all that?"

I am., said Simon contentedly, Moffit must dance to my tune, no matter what he thinks. Too many people got killed to have it any other way.

Where is he now?

In Zagreb, of course. Waiting for us to call him. The American Embassy's going to be rather crowded today.

Call him., said Hamilton and stood up, I want to get it done as soon as possible. I don't know what the two of you want from me, but I do know that you are a real pain in the ass.

We need your help. First, you must hear everything. After that we'll decide on what to do.

As always. Nothing new. All you ever do is ask for something and expect me to do your job.

Someone has to do it. So, how is Vitto? It is rumoured that the two of you are sleeping together?

You worry too much about Vitto and me. Some things won't come to your ears.

People are gossiping. But, if you don't want to talk about it , I'll understand. After all we are old friends.

You are totally out of your mind. Call that Moffit and cut the crap.

Too bad. I should have liked to know. , said Simon bitingly, Are you sure you don't want to share that with your buddy?

Fuck off. I had no idea that the line of business you are in started to affect you adversely.

That's how it goes. It must hit you in the head one day. The only question is when is it going to happen? Well, how is Vitto? Are they still obeying his orders?

It wouldn't be good if they didn't. We have tried too hard to make it be the way it is now.

That's true. Still, people are talking.

What?

It is rumoured that the two of you are sleeping together.

Fuck off! You are out of your mind! Please, call that Moffit! I'm tired and not in a mood for your craps!

Whatever you say!, said Simon laughingly and started to dial Moffit's phone number.

CHAPTER 2

Viktor Petrovski was lying calmly on the lower bed in his cell. It wasn't different from other cells in other American State prisons. Two and a half metres multiplied by two and a half metres, with the toilet and a double-decker bed, was an irreplaceable prison standard.

Viktor stretched his arm and looked at his watch. It was two to midnight. He was pleased. His big moment was coming. Only two minutes left, it flashed across his mind.

Two big minutes to his freedom.

He stood up and grabbed the bag with his personal belongings which was on the upper bed. He packed his things neatly in the bag an hour ago.

Nothing was at random.

He liked accuracy and impeccability in all situations, as well as neatness.

A quite hall between the cells was suddenly filled with the sound of hard footsteps which belonged to the jailer Rober Wolf. Viktor was filled with the sense of contentment once again. Jailer's footsteps proved him that everything was going as he had planned.

Wolf, the jailer, stopped in front of his cell. He was holding a big bundle of keys , among which he picked one which was opening the door of Victor's cell. With a deafening metal sound the door opened.

Viktor Petrovski., said Volf in a deep voice., Put your hands on the back. Drop the bag on the floor. Transfer!, Viktor did as he was told and nodded with his head.

A moment later Viktor and Wolf, the jailer, were walking calmly through the empty prison hall.

Move on. We are not on a picnic., said the jailer and a little bit too rudely pushed Victor , who paid no attention to his behaviour.

Nothing new. The one who is transferring me could wait a bit longer., said Viktor sniggering.

Viktor, watch out., shouted one of the prisoners from his cell, John was taken out in the same way. He never came back.

Quiet!, yelled Wolf, the jailer, Only one more sound and you are going to the solitary. Nobody is going to see you for a month!

Suddenly Wolf speeded up. Victor adjusted his walk to the sudden change of rhythm and concluded that the jailer can hardly wait for all of that to be over. He decided that the best thing to do was to follow the rhythm as not to slow down the jailer. Making him nervous was the last thing he needed at that moment. Ten minutes would be enough to get all that done as he had planned.

Walking quickly, Viktor and the jailer went out. They made a few more steps and stopped. Viktor turned around and the jailer , who had handcuffed him before they left Viktor's cell, took them off.

It was about time., said Viktor, Everything 's ready?

Of course. The payment was made as arranged.,, answered Wolf, My colleague will walk you to the transportation bus. Everything is going on as it was planned.", he gave Viktor the bag with his personal belongings.

I'm glad to hear that.

The exit door is opened. Move to the vehicle and get in.

It was a great pleasure knowing you, Wolf. Too bad we haven't met under different circumstances.

Move on. You have to be far away from this place by 8 o'clock., said Wolf and turned around. Viktor moved toward the exit.

He saw a prison bus at the car-park. He went there and got in. The jailer called Patric was sitting on a driver's seat. Viktor greeted him nodding his head.

Let's move. We are going to stop after eight kilometres., said Patric and started the engine, The car with all documentation and necessary clothes will be waiting for you there.

Great. I can see that all of you have taken this very seriously., said Viktor and sat down.

After twenty minutes of slow driving, the bus stopped. Winding road leading to the penitentiary was empty. Patric and Viktor went out.

The car is over there., said Patric and showed the spot where the car was parked pointing with his hand.

The keys are in the lock?, asked Viktor.

Yes. I'll take care of the bus. It's a bright night, so someone might see the flame. It's better to wait until dawn.

Clever. Wait a second., said Viktor and went to the car, I just have to check something.

Patrick stayed behind by the bus, nervously hopping . He took out a packet of cigarettes and lit one of them. He saw Viktor coming towards him.

Everything O.K.? asked Patrick.

Yes. Still, there is one thing left., said Viktor.

Yes? Something serious? I thought everything was O.K.?

Something is forgotten.

What?

Nobody got hurt. said Viktor with an icy tone. It has to happen.

Patrick turned pale and tried to jump into the bus, trying to get his hands on the gun which was always by the driver's seat. Viktor was faster and he prevented him from taking the gun by smacking his head with a fist. Patric fell down. Leaving nothing to chance, Viktor hit his head several times with his leg, and then dragged him off to the bus. Then he started its engine.

The bus moved. Viktor stopped the bus a few metres before the car prepared for the getaway. He stood up and took the gun which was next to the driver's seat.

Then he went over to Patric, who was helplessly lying unconscious on the bus floor. He looked at him and hit him with his leg.Patric didn't make a move. Viktor put the cold barrel contentedly on Patric's face and shot two times. Then he threw the gun next to the dead body and got out from the bus toward the car.

He got in and started the engine. A tortuous road ahead of him was the sign that freedom he had been waiting so long, finally arrived.

****

At eight o'clock sharp a deafening sound of a siren could have been heard all the way to