Searching for Stolen Love, Page 3

  Chapter 3

  Damir sat behind the director's desk at a university branch in Banja Luka, in Serbian territory. He removed his thick leather belt and was meticulously cleaning and lubricating it. Damir couldn’t remember how many people he had strangled with it, but today, the belt had another mission to complete.

  Damir held the belt ends in one hand and the mid-section in the other and snapped the belt several times. “I think it’s ready,” he yelled.

  Jasmin looked up from his magazine and replied, “Yes, sir, boss. Today will be a good day.” Then he looked down to reading his magazine again.

  Damir glanced over at Jasmin, one of his trusted friends. Although Jasmin was getting old, he was still a strong man like an old, rusty tank that squeaked badly every time it moved, but it could still fire artillery with no problems.

  They also both shared their hatred for the Serbs. The Serbs had stolen the one thing he cared about in the world – his beloved Emina. He thought he had protected her by sending her to Srebrenica – a safe haven during the Bosnian War. When he heard the Serbian armed forces overran the village, he and Jasmin drove there as fast as they could.

  They arrived towards evening and hid in the foothills overlooking the city. The camp held too many soldiers. They heard the firing of machine guns, like a barrage of screaming firecrackers.

  The firing went on for hours and hours. Several times, Damir tried to go down to the camp and kill as many soldiers as he could, but Jasmin stopped him. Sometimes, they heard women screaming between the cry of the bullets.

  Then the soldiers began leaving in a large convoy before dawn. Damir and Jasmin headed down to the camp. As the sun rose, the humanity in Damir’s head began setting.

  They smelled a stench of death clinging to the countryside, like an impenetrable fog that tried to stop itself from witnessing the massacre.

  As Damir and Jasmin wandered through the camp, they checked every bloody body, searching for his wife, Emina. They finally found her in one of the huts. The soldiers had badly raped and beaten her until she had died. Then they tossed her onto the floor and threw food containers, bottles, and cigarette butts on her.

  Damir lowered himself and brushed all the garbage off her. Then he traced every bruise and scar on her body with his index finger. He swore he would get even with the Serbs.

  Damir cradled her body in his arms for hours. Then Jasmin helped Damir bury her body in the foothills overlooking Srebrenica. Every year on Emina’s birthday, October 25th, Damir visited her grave and placed a bouquet of red roses across the flat gravestone. Then he would whisper to her gravestone how many Serbs he had killed that year.

  Even after December 14, 1995, when the Croats, Bosnians, and Serbs signed the Dayton Peace Accord, Damir would soothe his rage by strangling a Serb. He planned to kill as many Serbs as he could and settle the score for his lost wife. Anyone can kill a person with a gun but to strangle a life as it squirms in your arms is personal.

  Of course, Damir was always careful and left no clues behind, and the police never solved these crimes, and they never will.

  Damir plopped his briefcase onto the desk and unclasped the locks. He pulled out a small zip-lock bag filled with a white powdery substance. Then he pulled out a tiny mirror with a razor blade from the left drawer of his desk. The President spread some of the white powder on the mirror and used the razor blade to create three narrow lines.

  Then he reached into the briefcase, slipped a hundred euro bill from one of the money stacks and rolled it into a straw.

  The president quickly snorted three lines of coke. The cocaine rushed to his head like a freight train traveling along the rails of his arteries. Then the president's rage began to subside while his mind focused and cleared. His anger melted away like icicles during a spring thaw.

  Jasmin snapped, “Boss. Come on. You need to stop.”

  “I need my medicine,” as Damir shook his head back and forth, enjoying the rush. He pinched his nose, ensuring every miniscule of coke became assimilated into his body.

  “But you’re breaking a cardinal rule in business. Never consume your own product.”

  “I know but a little here and there won’t hurt me.”

  “But your medicine will be walking through that door in fifteen minutes. Use your belt as your natural medicine, not the coke. The rush of strangling a person will enliven you.”

  “Look, I know you are right. But, you need to back off. Just give me a little more time. By the way, speaking of business, did Vladimir give you any trouble yesterday?”

  “He started giving me shit about expenses. As I reached for my gun, he stopped his bullshit. He pulled the money out and handed me exactly 20,000 euros. I saw him count the money with a counting machine. You can count it if you like.”

  “No, I trust you. You covered my back during the war. I know my friends will never disappoint me. Just make sure the chemist keeps busy. Without him, our whole operation would fall apart.”

  “I’ll go and check up on him, once we get back home.”

  Damir opened a textbook, How to Manage Difficult Employees, and started studying it. Damir founded his university three years ago and had trouble with the employees and professors, especially the whining professors. He studied every page, searching for new pointers and tips to motivate his employees.

  Damir croaked, “Can you believe this? This expert says I should treat my employees with respect.”

  Jasmin chuckled and replied, “That’s unreal boss.” Then Jasmin lifted his heavy boot off the ground and added, “I should write motivator across the front of my boot so those ungrateful employees can read it as my boot goes up their ass.”

  Damir smirked and returned to reading his book.

  The university became quiet, and all the staff went on vacation. Damir and Jasmin were the only two occupying this desolate, empty building.

  Jasmin sat quietly in a chair across from Damir. He was leafing through a magazine. Damir knew Jasmin could not read, and he probably inserted a Playboy magazine into a Bosnian fashion magazine. Occasionally, Jasmin's right brow would rise in excitement as he found a good page to study and a little drool moistened his lips.

  Around 10 o'clock, they heard a soft rap at the door.

  Jasmin sprang from his chair and quickly opened it.

  A tall, skinny kid with wavy brown hair stood outside his door. He always wore eyeglasses with the typical European sleek frame, a Serbian copy of the Giorgio Armani glasses. He was the quiet, observant type. He smirked a little when he saw Damir sitting behind the desk.

  “Please come in, Branko. I’m glad you could make it to this meeting. I know everyone is away, but I want to get his out of the way,” Damir said politely, oozing with kindness and understanding.

  Damir continued, “Please hang up your coat and have a seat. Jasmin, could you please go get us some coffee from the pastry shop down the street? You know the one that has the flirtatious server girls.”

  Jasmin’s smile widened and beamed. He really liked that pastry shop, where the flirtatious Serbian women worked. “Yes, sir,” Jasmin said and left the office, slowly closing the door behind him.

  “Good morning, sir,” Branko replied as he scanned the office and spotted an empty chair by Damir’s desk.

  “Good morning, Branko. How are you this morning?” Damir asked with false sincerity.

  “I’m doing well. I had a great semester. I earned all A's in all my courses.”

  “Great. That is splendid news. I heard you’re a brilliant student. You’re at the top of your class.”

  Branko nodded his head up and down and grinned, “Yes, sir. I don’t like to brag, but I’m the smartest.”

  “As you probably guessed, I wanted to talk to you in person. The finance department has brought it to my attention that you are behind in tuition payments. You owe the university 6,000 euros. May I ask what the problem is?”

  Branko’s grin hardened into stone, and he just sat there and stared
at Damir.

  “You have not answered the question.”

  After several more seconds of silence, Branko’s face reddened, and he snapped, “As I already explained it to your people in the finance department, I plan to pay my bill as soon as I can. My family is having financial problems. Once the problems smooth out, I’ll pay you. I’ll get my finances in order. Okay, sir. May I leave?” Branko asked, edging himself out of the seat.

  Damir replied in a sharp town, “You understand it costs me money to pay for the staff, the professors, this building.” Damir swept his arms out in a semi-circle to emphasize everything in the university and continued, “Unfortunately, we’re a small university, and this tuition money is extremely important. That money is vital. The university spent a lot of money to bring those American professors to Bosnia.”

  “I know sir, but as I already explained, I will pay you the money once my family gets their finances in order. If you allow me to continue next semester, I’ll pay you back in the summer. I’ll work a summer job and pay you every penny I owe you. It’s just that I can’t pay you right now.”

  “Well then. You are lucky I’m an understanding person,” Damir grinned, showing his front teeth and continued, “I understand your situation. I can be quite a generous person. You’re such a brilliant student. I probably can find a little scholarship money for you. The university needs good students like you. Excellent students enhance the reputation of the university.”

  Branko smiled while he stared coldly at Damir. Branko tapped his foot on the ground, challenging Damir to continue.

  Jasmin returned to the office, carrying two cappuccinos, and he placed the Styrofoam cups on the desk. Then he fished several packets of cream and sugar from his coat pocket and put them next to the coffees.

  Damir stated jovially, “Ah, Jasmin brought back some coffee. Please, help yourself Branko to one of the coffees.”

  Branko leaned forward stretching his hand to grab the closest coffee.

  As Branko reached for the cup, Jasmin punched him hard on the side of his head near the temple, knocking his glasses off. Then Branko fell to the floor, sprawled out.

  “Well, I guess you won’t need that cup of coffee after all, Branko, You’re so smart. I bet you didn’t see that coming?” Damir said sarcastically.

  “Boss, I’ll take that cup of coffee. Let’s not waste good coffee on a piece of shit.”

  “Oh by all means, help yourself. I thought that piece of shit would never stop talking. After we finish our coffees, we’ll drag him to the car,”

  Damir added with a touch of anger and fury in his voice. “This little motherfucker wouldn’t pay his tuition. Did he actually think I would let him continue to study at my university?”

  Jasmin sat in Branko's chair and plopped his heavy, dirty boots onto Branko's back, using Branko as a footrest.

  Then Damir and Jasmin enjoyed their coffees in silence and continued reading their magazine and book again.

  Fifteen minutes later, Branko began to stir.

  Jasmin grabbed a bottle of chloroform and doused a rag. Then he held the rag over Branko’s mouth while Branko drifted into a heavy sleep.

  “It’s time to take out the trash,” Damir said.

  “Yes, sir, boss.” Then Jasmin walked outside the university building and pulled the car around to the back door.

  After he had returned to the office, Damir and Jasmin grabbed Branko and threw him into the car’s trunk, locking him inside.

  Then they returned to the office to finish their reading.

  A few hours later, Jasmin and Damir changed into camouflage military uniforms and left the university. Jasmin hopped onto the driver’s seat, while Damir rode shotgun. They drove into the deep countryside.

  Dusk was approaching, and the temperatures were dropping.

  Jasmin turned left on a dirt road. Then he drove slowly over a treacherous road that curved and twisted through the backcountry through the Balkan Mountains. After an hour, they reached their destination, a valley surrounded by wilderness. A desolate frontier spread in all directions for miles. At the bottom of the valley, a group of men wearing military uniforms stood near their parked cars, talking and smoking cigarettes.

  Both Jasmin and Damir pulled next to the cars and exited the vehicle. As Damir approached, the 10 soldiers sprang into a straight formation, and Jasmin joined the end of the line.

  Damir smiled as he stood in front of his platoon. Then he addressed his troops, “ATTENTION!”

  All the troops snapped their heels altogether and saluted their commander with strong, crisp synchronous movements.

  Damir began, “Good morning troops. I’m glad you all made it to our training exercise today. Unfortunately, Adnan could not make it today because he’s busy with an important errand. I know it is a cold day, and we all would rather be back at home, sitting in front of a fireplace. However, these training exercises are vital. We must prepare for the next Bosnian War. We must continue to train and be diligent. I also have a surprise for you today. Jasmin, will you go grab the surprise.”

  The day was bitter cold while the snow pelted the ground. Several inches of snow already accumulated on the car. Jasmin walked to the back of the car and...