Kiss Of The Butterfly Part 27

THE b.u.t.tERFLY'S LAIR

Belgrade: 18-19 May 1992 The taxi ride from the Glogovac home to Bear's cousin's house on Banovo Hill had consisted of Bear repeatedly mouthing "Debauchery" and Steven repeatedly mouthing "no." When they entered the apartment a heated argument erupted.

'You heard Stojadinovic,' Bear said. 'Natalija's at Debauchery.'

'Don't be stupid! You heard Mrs. Lazarevic.'

'It's only a woman vampire,' Bear chided.

'What if there're others? I had beginner's luck with Stojadinovic.'

'Come on, we'll eat lots of garlic,' Bear teased. 'And you bring the stake along, just in case.'

'No, no, no and no! We don't know what's in there.'

'I've been there before.'

'Good. Then you don't have to go again.'

'Come on, it's just criminals and businessmen and some old fart singing Sinatra and Tony Bennett.'

'Don't be an a.s.s! My picture's all over TV.'

'I just want to see. We need to know if it's really her.'

'It's too dangerous,' argued Steven.

'You're chicken,' Bear taunted.

'd.a.m.n right! And if you're not, then you've got pig-brain jelly in your head.'

'Natalija killed Tamara. Are you going to let her get away with it?' Bear goaded. 'Don't you want revenge?'

'Yes, but not now. We don't know what we're up against.'

'So you're going to forget Tamara, just like that?' Bear grabbed Steven by his s.h.i.+rt front, shoving him against the wall. 'I want revenge. Do you understand?'

'You're crazy...'

'Stefan...'

'Bear...'

They looked at each other. Then Steven relented.

'So what's going on with you and Vesna? You seemed real weird towards her in the tunnels.'

'Bear, back off. It's none of your d.a.m.ned business. Vesna deserves better than for me to hurt her, especially now. What she needs is a good friend.'

'You already hurt her when you rejected her advances.'

'I'll hurt her even more if we start something I don't believe in just because we're both h.o.r.n.y, especially when she's vulnerable. Women take relations.h.i.+ps a lot more seriously than men, and she's already introduced me to her family.'

Bear shook his head. 'You're the first guy I've ever met who turned down such a beautiful girl. You sure you're not gay?'

'Not everybody thinks with his d.i.c.k like you,' Steven was becoming angry. 'Drop it, unless you want trouble.'

'Oh, the big American's threatening me. I'm really frightened.'

'I mean it,' Steven said, advancing until they stood toe-to-toe. 'I'll kick your a.s.s faster than the n.a.z.i's did in 1941. Try me.' He stared Bear in the eye and tensed his muscles.

'You're touchy today,' Bear said, backing away. 'Forget I said anything.'

Late that evening Bear and Steven walked through the darkened Tasmajdan Park, wearing civilian clothes they'd borrowed from Bear's cousin on Banovo Hill. They pa.s.sed the imposing Cathedral of St. Marko and the tiny Russian Orthodox chapel, crossed an elevated concrete walkway to a low, non-descript building at the park's edge and entered a drab gla.s.s lobby to find a shabbily dressed man smoking at a desk in front of dark velvet curtains. 'Admission is ten Deutsche Marks,' he said without looking up, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of a jazz ensemble playing "Fly Me To The Moon" behind the curtains. They paid, he parted the curtains and a King Kong look-alike frisked them for weapons.

They descended a broad staircase into a dimly-lit imitation of a 19th century Viennese bordello, booths around a dance floor, velvet curtains on the walls. A jazz combo backed a mummified retiree in a tuxedo whose stage smile had frozen in place, exhorting them to let him "see what life is like on Jupiter and Mars". A waiter showed them to a booth and they ordered drinks.

They looked around them at the playground of Belgrade's nouveau riche. Men who only a year before were the dregs of society now displayed expensive Italian suits and ostentatious wrist.w.a.tches, while haughty young women in designer jeans, miniskirts and c.o.c.ktail dresses flashed their wares. Some were buyers, others sellers: it was difficult to distinguish who was who. Bear and Steven were definitely underdressed.

'Is this it?' asked Steven. 'I expected...I don't know, something more...uh...'

'Look at all the gold-digging sponzoruse at the bar.' Bear muttered. The girls sized up the two, decided they weren't worth the effort and turned back to their drinks.

As their drinks arrived the singer began a tribute to Edith Piaf. People moved in and out of focus through the thick tobacco haze, the tide of men and women ebbing and flowing between the tables, as couples swayed self-indulgently on the dance floor. In this night club, in this city, in this country at war with the world and itself, everything was fleeting, and the patrons seized whatever pleasures they could, conscious they might be their last.

Bear glanced about curiously while Steven squirmed like a schoolboy in a confessional.

'She's not here,' Bear said.

'Hey Bear, if it's May 1992 in Belgrade, what time is it in Was.h.i.+ngton?'

'Huh?'

'Haven't you watched Casablanca? Never mind...this was a stupid idea. I've got to pee and then let's go.' Steven stood and headed for the bathroom.

While Steven was gone, the mummy began crooning 'Oh the shark has, pretty teeth babe...' and a commotion erupted at the top of the stairs.

Everyone in the club turned to look at six hard, shaven-headed men attired in black: shoes, trousers, t-s.h.i.+rts, and aviator jackets that barely concealed Scorpion submachine pistols. They flanked a young woman of perhaps 22 in a black silk c.o.c.ktail dress with spaghetti straps and a single strand of pearls around her neck, a flashy scarf draped over bare shoulders. Her striking features and dark eyes were emphasized by dark hair that had been pulled back. It was Natalija.

As she appeared at the top of the stairs, head held high, the band suddenly stopped in mid-beat and launched into an enthusiastic version of "h.e.l.lo Dolly," except that the mummy belted out 'h.e.l.lo, Natalija' with gusto in heavily-accented English.

The clientele stood and applauded politely as she strutted slowly down the stairway, a modern-day empress making her ceremonial entrance, holding her bodyguards' elbows for support, captivating the room with her dark beauty. Halfway down the stairs she bent over to adjust the strap on her stilettos, showing the top of her thigh-high black silk stocking and marble-white decolletage. With the liquid grace of a lioness she glided towards a reserved booth, waving in acknowledgement with one hand, a glittering Louis Vuitton clutch in the other. She sat in the center of the booth and sniffed the air slightly, her entourage forming a protective coc.o.o.n. People approached Natalija's table, said h.e.l.lo and exchanged air kisses. Others sought an audience.

Emboldened by his disguise, Bear motioned to a waiter: 'I'd like to buy a drink for that lady over there.'

'Excuse me sir, but I don't know if that's a good idea,' the waiter said.

'Just do it.' He slipped 20 Deutsche Marks to the waiter.

'Yes sir.'

The waiter returned to the bar and said something to the barman, who looked briefly at Bear, shook his head disapprovingly, and set about making a drink.

Steven returned from the toilet and said: 'let's go.'

'Look over there,' Bear gestured at Natalija's table.

'That's her!' exclaimed Steven.

'And her apes are DB,' Bear said.

'Let's go!'

Bear shook his head. 'Just a little longer. Let's see who she meets and where she goes afterwards.'

'We know she's here. Now let's leave.'

'Just a little longer,' Bear pleaded.

'She'll recognize us,' Steven whispered.

'How can she? She hardly saw us in the tunnels, and we looked completely different then,' Bear said confidently. 'No one has any idea who we are. Did you bring the stake?'

'Of course not. Where would I hide it?'

'You didn't bring the stake?!' Bear was furious.

'Let's go.'

'Wait. I just bought her a drink.'

'You what?!' Steven exclaimed. 'Have you lost your mind? You're completely different since Petrovaradin.'

The barman placed a gin and tonic on a tray, which the waiter placed in front of Natalija. He whispered something to her and pointed at Bear. She acted surprised, looked across the room at them, smiled tentatively and raised her gla.s.s. Both returned her salute, Bear smiling, while Steven avoided her gaze.

'See, she didn't recognize us,' Bear gloated.

'I can't believe this.'

'Calm down...wait just a little longer. But don't pay any attention to her. It drives women crazy when you ignore them.'

'She killed Tamara and almost killed Vesna and now you're flirting with her?'

'It's just reconnaissance. You got a better idea?'

'Yeah! Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here. You know what her apes will do to us if she suspects? She'll drink our blood through a straw for Happy Hour.'

'Stefan, we're okay. Just act cool. We'll leave in a bit.'

Steven hung his head in his hands and stared at the marble table top, unable to believe what was happening.

They ordered more drinks, sat through the end of the set, and generally did their best to ignore Natalija. During the break another round of drinks helped Steven loosen up, and they bought drinks for a table of sponzoruse, and flirted openly.

By the beginning of the next set the parade of pet.i.tioners at Natalija's table had evaporated. She lit a long, slender Cuban cigarillo and looked around with a bored expression.

The waiter approached with a note on a tray. 'From the Lady,' he said.

Bear opened it. 'Would you care to join me for a drink?' it said in a flowery hand. He handed the note to Steven and looked across the room: she smiled at them, her cigarillo clutched between her fingers.

'What do we do?' asked Steven, panicked.

'Keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking,' Bear said.

When they sat down on either side of Natalija her presence and perfume intoxicated them and she smiled so beautifully that all thoughts of Tamara and Vesna disappeared from their minds.

'Good evening. My name is Natalija,' she said as she raised a hand with ruby red nails.

'I'm...mmph!' gulped Steven as Bear kicked him under the table.

'Such a tremendous pleasure,' Bear responded, as he lifted her hand and kissed the air above it. 'Please pardon my cousin. He's from Chicago...you know how uncivilized Americans are.' His voice was crisp and firm. 'I am Vlada and this is Nenad. Thank you so much for inviting us. We watched you all evening...'

'What about your little friends?' she motioned jealously towards the sponzoruse. 'Wouldn't you rather sit with them?'

'They're kids,' Bear said dismissively. 'You...are a real woman.'

Her face glowed with satisfaction as she turned to Steven. 'An American? How interesting. Tell me Nenad, are American women as beautiful as our women?'

'Miss Natalija, no one even comes close to you, not even here in Serbia,' he smiled flirtatiously.

Bear grinned at him and winked.

'So, Nenad American, what are you doing in Serbia?'

'I came to...'

'He came to defend the homeland,' Bear interrupted. 'When he saw what the Ustase and Balija were doing, he joined Seselj's Eagles.'

Steven glared at him.

'And he just got back from Bosnia. He was in Bijeljina, you know.'

'Oh, a genuine hero,' she fawned.