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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #1537683
A story tells how gangsters use sophisticated methods to kidnap a rich girl.
Mortal Voice

Anatoly Klepov


All events and characters in the story are fictitious. The author bears no responsibility for random coincidence with actual persons, organizations and countries. 

It happened in an instant. A strong hand dragged Dasha to the back seat of a car and she was pressed between two sturdy men. A long strap of her purse tangled round her legs. A woman in an orange jacket was sitting on the front seat. Dasha wanted to cry but horror squeezed her throat. The sweat was pouring off her face. The woman on the front seat turned back, looked at Dasha attentively and said in a hoarse voice:

- Give her a drink and let her come to senses.

A man on her left took a metal flask from his pocket and started to pour some liquid into her mouth. She became even more frightened, started to twitch and clenched her teeth. The man to the right clasped her in his arms so tight that her head began to swim. The other man pressed a painful point under her jaw, unclenched her teeth and poured the liquid into her mouth. Dasha choked and started to cough. The liquid burned her throat and inexorably penetrated inside. A few minutes later she stopped to resist and humbly swallowed the liquid.

A Nissan jip with tinted glasses drove up to high metal gates. They opened wide automatically and the car drove into a small residential community with only seven stone houses. The area was surrounded with a high stone fence. There was barbed wire, video surveillance cameras and optic alarm system along the perimeter. There were lots of antennas on the roofs, some of them disguised in huge plastic large boxes. Guards with sheep dogs patrolled the streets. The settlement resembled a concentration camp or a large communication centre. 

Two bandits dragged the unconscious girl out from the jip and pulled her along to a two-storied building to right from the five-storied house in the center of the settlement. The woman in an orange coat ran into the central building with two armed guards at the entrance.

Sonya – that was her name – rushed to the third floor. She ran into a huge hall. The chief’s secretary was sitting at a high reception desk. She was a slim woman dressed in black with thin metal glasses on a long nose. 

- Is Pavel Semyonovich in? – Sonya inquired.

The secretary picked up the receiver:

- Sonya has arrived, - and said briefly.

- Come in, he is waiting for you.

The office of “the concentration camp” chief was behind the double doors. Pavel Semyonovich Peshkov, a seventy-two year old tall man looked fit and neat. There were lots of diplomas and orders of Soviet, Russian and international medical organizations on the walls. Pavel Semyonovich was a doctor of science and an honored doctor of three foreign medical universities, a famous Latin American medical university in Bogota, the capital of Columbia, in particular.   

- Come in, my dear Sonya, come in and sit down! – he said gently.

Pavel Semyonovich sat beside her in an arm-chair. Soon the secretary brought a silver tray with aromatic coffee, oriental sweets and a humidor.

- Cohiba, your favorites, as usual, - Pavel Semyonovich noticed.

- It’s so kind of you, - a ghost of a smile appeared on Sonya’s thin lips.

- How did the operation go off, if it’s an appropriate word for that? – he asked.

- Very well, but the affair took a lot of effort. If it weren’t for your personal request we wouldn’t have mixed up in it. Her father has many professional guards.

- You are right, my dear, but business is business. It’s so difficult now to find funds to accomplish our grandiose medical experiments. They’ll change life on Earth! Millions of elderly people will become young again. They’ll be able to be the same like in the times when they were full of strength. The incredible flourishing of spiritual thought is in store for the civilization! Faust sold his soul to the devil to remain young! We are inventing a youth elixir and it’ll be sold at a reasonable price. That’s why I couldn’t refuse my main business companion. He terrorized me with his phone calls asking to bring him Dasha at once! He is such a smart charming young man – and he lost his head all of a sudden like a boy because of some girl! 

- I met him at a millionaires’ resort in Porto Cervo in Sardinia. When his daughter Dasha came there he didn’t let her away even for a minute. You know, Sonya, those Columbians are so energetic – just like fire! We are busy with scientific research, it is peace and quite here – and he urges us to bring him a daughter of a Russian millionaire! I’ve sent him some photos of our “clients” so many times. They are nice, fascinating, I should say beautiful girls - and very healthy. You know how precisely we choose them for our medical experiments. How much we pay to medical staff to procure clients’ medical cards! We don’t take whores from the streets. Their nervous system leaves much to be desired. What kind of youth elixir shall we get from them? It’ll be old age elixir - at best.

There’s so much negative energy accumulated in them. We’ve even created a mini NSA (The National Security Agency is the most powerful organization in the world. It intercepts various communication systems, mobile phones in particular.) It wiretaps all their mobile conversations. Then our experienced psychiatrists create their psy-images for further analysis. We kidnap only exclusive samples.

So many German psychiatrists from the second Ananerbe department tried to cope with that problem and they were close to the solution, if it weren’t for the defeat of Germany in the war. It was Reich’s most powerful weapon. It was not for nothing that Hitler considered it to be Reich’s fourth weapon. Germans spent more money on its development than Americans spent on the development of nuclear weapons. Our partner managed to obtain these materials from former SS-officers in Latin America. The experiment is close to the end, but we need more and more young women for tests. We’ve spent so much time to kidnap only one! – Pavel Semyonovich shook his head.

- But we can compensate material losses, increase the number of  kidnapped children and use them as donors. Our system is perfect! Any boy or girl will immediately rush where we need if he hears a voice on the phone that sounds like his relative. We can speak with that falsified voice and say we’ve bought a long-awaited present and a child can get it at a certain place. The prices for kidneys, liver and iris have risen, you know, - Sonya objected to him.

- You are absolutely right from the economic point of view, Sonya. As for science it draws my attention so much from our main work, – Pavel Semyonovich stood up and started to march nervously along the office. That business with the girl really hampered his scientific research.

He calmed down and returned to his soft leather arm-chair.

- Now, Sonya, let’s proceed to our economic calculations, though I’m not very fond of them, – Pavel Semyonovich sighed. – My Columbian partner offered two million dollars for Dasha. How much will her father pay for the buyout, what would you say? 

- It’s a crisis now, you know. The cost of the company shares has fallen abruptly. It will not be more than one million euros, I suppose.

Pavel Semyonovich came up to his desk, opened a notebook and started to calculate something.

- Sonya, this month we have to purchase urgently some components for the experiments. There was a refrigerator malfunction at our company division responsible for organ storage. Part of the organs extracted from children, operated there, had to be terminated. Ask Dasha’s father to pay three million dollars for her freedom. We’ll give her to our dear Columbian partner for two million dollars, if he doesn’t. But it’s better to earn three million. Got it?

-  Yes, I always understand you, – Sonya assured him.

- Prepare a special pornographic film at our film production studio. Show Dasha making love with several young men and the appropriate attributes, too. Let her father see how happy she is when new sexually inspired men come to her. Naturally you have to imitate coitus skillfully. We can’t play a dirty trick on our main client. When Dasha’s father sees the film he should realize what will become of his daughter soon. Then he’ll pay us three million dollars in spite of the crisis. Give Dasha our big pink pill and she’ll look happy and joyful.

Sonya admired her cigar. She liked to deal with professionals so much!


Dasha was on the second course of studies at a prestigious Moscow university. Her father was a prominent businessman and spent most of the time in business trips where he went together with his young wife.

Dasha’s mother married an Italian artist who painted in Takashi Murakami’s style of super flatness. Parents’ divorce was painless. 

Dasha lived in her father’s huge flat in New Arbat street.

Her father visited her from time to time when he came to Russia, but he preferred to stay in his beautiful triplex on the Rublyovskoye highway. A strict governess lived with Dasha to maintain discipline, so to say. The morality of her master’s daughter was under her vigilant surveillance. The governess was also responsible for the housekeeper.

Oleg, a guard and a driver, drove Dasha to the university and escorted her during her walks. It irritated Dasha so much and ended up in tears and hysterics. She tried to explain her father that she had a right for personal space and wanted to be free from her “shadow” - that’s how she called Oleg. She told her father that everybody laughed at her at the university. That was the argument.

Oleg was forty six. He served in the Main Intelligence Office for a long time, went to “hot” spots and was awarded with orders and medals. He was always in good shape and went in for wrestling. He was transferred to reserve and got a job as Dasha’s father personal guard. He was paid several times more than before, though he had to work a lot. There was nothing to be done – he had a family and had to earn for the living. 

There was another reason why Dasha quarreled with her father. It was that handsome man Dima, a student from a senior course. He was tall and showy with a head of jet-black hair and a pale face. Dasha thought he looked like a poet from the XIXth century. He played a guitar perfectly and was always surrounded by enraptured female students. Maybe there were some other girls among them. That’s why he used to look at girls in a haughty manner. He had noticed Dasha long before. She was a beautiful blond with long curly hair. Her figure and posture excited envy in most of her classmates. She was much talked about at the university, though her father and his new wife was mostly the subject of discussion. She was a popular television anchorwoman. Her clothes were a topic for precise analysis at university parties.

Marina was Dasha’s bosom friend. She was merry and spontaneous and attracted people like a magnet. All her acquaintances were fascinated with her phenomenal gift to know everything about everybody. Where on Earth she hasn’t been? She’s been to closed clubs and vernisages, to fashion-shows and film premieres; she went to parties with stars and visited the best restaurants. Of course, her father helped her. He was a well-known journalist in Russia, but Marina preferred to hold the subject back. She just adored all kinds of secrets and once confidentially told Dasha that famous Mata Hari was her idol. That’s why a sign “the number is not identified” appeared on a mobile phone when she called someone.

Dasha and Dima met a few times in a coffee-house after classes, but Oleg was always there at a table nearby. He nipped in the bud the rendezvous romanticism. Dasha dreamt all the time how she would thoroughly choose her clothes and go with Dima to one of the best night clubs. Dasha was fond of dancing and moved well, though she seldom had the opportunity to go out. She was sure she’d be able to produce a lasting impression on Dima, he would fall in love with her and forget all the other girls. She wanted it so much that she kept thinking about it all the time. 

The thought that Oleg would be sitting at the next table precipitated her dream into an abyss.  What if Dima invited her somewhere after the nightclub? Should the guard go with them?

It was a catastrophe for her. She faded due to these thoughts, grew thin and lost appetite. Marina noticed immediately that something was wrong with her friend and was eager to know what had happened.

At first Marina refused to say but at last she shared her problem with her friend. Marina’s eyes lit up. It was a real detective story she had never dreamt of! It would be a suspense! The lovers would date and an experienced guard hired by a despot-father would watch the bride-to-be.

- It’s so romantic! – Marina uttered with excitement.  – It’s super – to cheat a guard!

Marina felt she was Mata Hari cheating the most experienced detectives.

The friends were excited with the exotic detective story and started discussing the best plan. They unanimously chose the night-club in five minutes. It was a new “Cherished Dream” club. There were queues at the entrance and it was very difficult to get in. It took a long tome for the girls to decide where to meet, whether it would be a VIP private room or a restaurant hall. A VIP private room was better.

It was late already and they agreed to get in touch on mobile phone and settle all the details of the forthcoming “combat mission”.

They spoke on the phone till late at night planning how to escape the pursuit of Dasha’s personal guard. Their plan was as follows.

Marina will ask her friends to assist her. They will wait for Dasha in a narrow K. side-street with one-way traffic. Cars are parked on the sidewalk, so only one car can pass by at a time. Marina will wait for Dasha near her friends’ car. When Dasha drives up - escorted by Oleg - she has to go out and come up to her. Marina will be waiting her near the driver’s seat. Dasha will have to come up to the back door, Marina’s friends will open it, Dasha will jump in quickly and they’ll drive away. The second car with Marina’s friends will drive into the centre of the side-street right after the first car. It will block the way and switch on the alarm signal.

Dasha was delighted with the plan.

- How wonderful! What a romantic meeting with such a detective plot! Any girl will envy me when you tell the story! – exclaimed Dasha.

The girls were excited with a sudden turn of the romantic rendezvous and decided to settle the exact date of the meeting next day.

Maybe it was a coincidence but it was Dasha’s birthday in a week. Her parents called her at the same time and said they wanted to be with her very much but had some urgent business and couldn’t be in Moscow on her birthday. They bought presents that only real princesses could dream of. Dasha’s mother said her new husband had painted Dasha’s portrait. The girl was fantastically beautiful there flying up to the sky. Her husband wanted to present the gift personally in Moscow. That portrait was demonstrated at an exhibition in Rome. It was a sensation and many Italian journalists wrote about it. 

Marina’s acquaintance, a printing house director, printed a beautiful invitation card to a romantic supper. Dasha wrote the verses for the grand event – they were in the card. The girls planned that twenty closest friends would be invited to the restaurant. Then Dasha and Dima would secretly move to a private room and stay there alone. Marina had calculated everything to a minute. She was overwhelmed with an idea to unite the lovers in spite of the family tyranny. It was such an obstacle for a girl to visit night clubs.

- I could have hung myself because of such guardianship, - she told Dasha once upon a time.

Three days before her birthday Dasha met Dima at the university. She came up to him, flushed all of a sudden and gave him the invitation card in a nice pink envelope. He read it and looked at her in surprise.

- A birthday party in a club like this! Lots of people dream to go there but they can’t. I’ll be there by all means! And it’s not only because of the club! – he looked at the girl cunningly.

Dasha was so happy! She suffered so much the divorce of her parents and felt so lonely. Maybe she had found her happiness. She won’t be lonely now. Dima will be with her!

Her mother and father called her on her birthday early in the morning and congratulated her. The governess put on a new black dress, congratulated Dasha stiffly and gave her a present - a volume of Block’s poems. Oleg came in a new blue suit and gave her a small Mother of God icon. He asked about the plans for the day and went to a two-room apartment on the same floor that belonged to Dasha’s father. Guards and service staff lived there. The guards had surveillance cameras; they were on duty in turn and watched the entrance and the staircase where Dasha’s flat was situated.

They had to learn hard at the university and at home, so Marina and Dasha didn’t have much time to see each other. The girls discussed all the details of their plan on the mobile phone. They even visited that side-street, but of course the guard didn’t know anything. Luckily there was a shop of a fashionable brand there. The friends dropped in together to lull the guard’s vigilance. 

Marina was very proud she had scrupulously planned everything. They agreed to meet at 7 p.m. so that no one suspected anything. All the shops were still open at that time. They’d pretend they wanted to go shopping. Then let him search Dasha. They decided to come to Marina’s flat, Dasha would put on her evening dress there. They could drive along Moscow streets for a while, drink coffee with their friends in the “Red Hills” and arrive to the “Cherished Dream” club at 10 p.m. - and then make merry and celebrate Dasha’s birthday.

It didn’t matter she’d get it hot from the parents – it was their daughter’s birthday! They’d grumble a little and, any way, forgive her. Marina and Dasha thought it would be a lesson for them. They shouldn’t limit the grown up girls’ freedom to such an extent. They agreed to get in touch on the phone at 6 p.m. to confirm everything was ready. Dasha had to be in K. side-street at 7 p.m. sharp.

- Everything should be exactly in time. That’s the guarantee of success – Marina repeated all the time.

In the morning Dasha visited her favorite hairdresser – she had arranged everything in advance. The hairdo was wonderful. Her soft blond hair fell down in curls on her shoulders. The stylist smacked his lips with delight smoothing her locks again and again and mending the errors that only he could notice. Finally he sprayed her hair and exclaimed:

- Princess!

Dasha returned home, locked the door in her room and tried on her evening dress. They decided with Marina that at 3 p.m. Marina’s friend Andrey would come and fetch Dasha’s bag with her clothes not to arouse Oleg’s suspicion. 

Dasha packed her clothes and shoes and put on jeans and a blouse. Mechanically she put Oleg’s present - the Mother of God icon - into her purse. She liked that man. His manners were manly and resolute and it really appealed to her. She even accepted calmly all his instructions and explanations where she should go and where she shouldn’t and why he was so much concerned about it. He asked to tell him honestly where she intended to go and whom she met.

Dasha used to act like that because her father had asked her to. He referred to high-profile cases about crimes that happened in Moscow now and then. Dasha felt a bit embarrassed since she had to lie to Oleg. But the thought that she would be alone with Dima all the evening gave her confidence.

Andrey arrived at 3 p.m. and took the large bag with her clothes. At 5 p.m. Dasha’s mobile phone rang and an indication appeared on the screen “the number is not identified”. It could be only Marina!

Marina spoke quickly. She said everything was fine, she didn’t manage to do something and she was pressed for time.

- I’ll see you where we’ve agreed to meet! – and she immediately hung up the receiver.

Dasha was busy with her make-up when at 7 p.m. her mobile phone rang again and no number appeared on the screen. It was Marina again. Her voice sounded a bit husky.

- Masya! – she said. Only Marina used to call Dasha that name when she was about to say something important.

- It’s pouring rain outside. I got so wet that I’ve lost my voice. There was some accident in the side-street where we’d arranged to meet. Ministry for Extraordinary Situations is working there now. The streets are blocked so cars can’t pass through. Fortunately, the guys happened to be around and saw it. Let’s meet in M. side-street, it’s just next to K. side-street. It’s also narrow.   

It rained harder in the evening so Dasha could hardly recognize Marina in her bright orange coat. She was standing near a Nissan car. She did everything exactly according to their plan. Dasha asked Oleg to stop and came up to the car. There was a purse in her hands. She approached the back door, it opened and a strong hand dragged her inside. In a moment the woman in an orange coat sat on the front seat and the car dashed forward.

Oleg saw someone dragging Dasha into a car and started to follow the kidnappers. All of a sudden a Gazel car appeared right in front of him. It stopped in the middle of the street with its emergency lights on. Oleg could hardly press the break not to ram into the car …


Valery T. cut short his story. We sat in a small cozy restaurant in the South-East of Moscow. The cuisine was perfect there and the place was rather popular. Valery’s story was interesting and I was waiting to hear the end of it. 

Valey T. was a head of a large security firm. He served in famous “Alpha” in the past, fought in Afghanistan and Chechnya. He had lots of friends whom he had served with. Some of them continued the service, the others like him were directors of various detective agencies and private security companies.

Valery told me the following. A month ago Dasha was kidnapped and her father came to him. The bandits asked for the buyout and demanded that Dasha’s father didn’t call the militia. They threatened him that they would deal shortly with her if he didn’t pay. They asked for three million dollars and urged Dasha’s father to pay quickly.

The head of security department in the company directed by Dasha’s father advised to apply to Valery T. for help. He was considered to be a professional in hostage release. Valery advised Dasha’s father to inform the appropriate state organizations about the kidnapping. He gave him contact phone numbers and assured it was necessary because a lot of problems were to be resolved. In particular they had to find out whom Dasha had communicated with on the phone.  Dasha’s father agreed to help him to investigate the kidnapping.

Valery T. said the job was very complicated. The kidnappers were very skillful and crafty and threatened Dasha’s parents. But there was a mistake that made it possible to arrest them when they were transferring the money. Dasha was released. She had a very serious mental disorder and had to be taken to hospital. It was found out during the investigation that criminals had hunted her for a long time. They had studied her routs but it was a problem for them to choose the right moment for kidnapping. The militia managed to terminate the “concentration camp”, though not all the details of the case were opened - the investigation still continued. The facts that were known were terrible…

An incident helped the criminals. A mobile phone interception system was lost in a Ukrainian state organization and bandits obtained it. They started to monitor Dasha’s mobile phone calls and learned that Dasha and Marina planned to cheat the guard. They knew how the girls intended to do it, so it was easy to organize kidnapping. The only problem was to falsify Marina’s voice, call Dasha and arrange a meeting in the place where kidnappers would expect her. The voice was falsified using a voice synthesizer. The bandits spoke Marina’s voice via the mobile phone interception system – and decoyed Dasha into their trap.

She wasn’t their only victim. The bandits chose the most attractive girls and kidnapped them the same way. If they didn’t receive a buyout they stuffed a girl with drugs and gave her to local dens. The most beautiful and rich were sent abroad to brothels. The girls that suited their Jesuitical parameters were used for experiments to receive a “youth elixir”.

It was easier to deal with children. Their organs were sold to local and foreign customers.

The investigation defined that criminals had kidnapped thousands of girls and children that way and earned dozens of millions of dollars. 

People are kidnapped more and more often in Russia. In Brazil, for example, kidnappers gain great profits – nearly five hundred million dollars annually. Drugs are proliferated among the population very quickly in Russia. After the collapse of the Soviet Union criminal “business”, kidnapping in particular, rapidly develop in this country.

- Spy technologies at the service of “people”, - I summed up his story, and Valery confirmed I was right.

- It’s impossible to say otherwise.

What is a mobile phone? It’s a radio station. A mobile phone is called “a radio station” when it’s certified in Russia. Civilians are defenseless in front of the mafia. It’s equipped better than some Western special services.

- Even the mightiest guarding won’t save from deception.

We came to a conclusion with Valery that by all means security – physical and technological - should always be complex. In the contemporary information world the most effective technical means should be introduced to counteract criminals, or else a case like Dasha’s could end more tragically. 

© Copyright 2009 anatoly (a7618nk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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