Field of Blackbirds - Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (me reader txt) 📗

for was right there.
If Lindsey was Reed’s weakness, he couldn’t afford to wear it on his sleeve, not the way Marcielli did. He was the team leader. A leader must be steadfast, unyielding and impervious. Could Reed create a façade for this burning hole in his heart and then balance it out with strength and confidence? He promised himself that he could; for the sake of all those who counted on him.


Chapter 18 – Marko & Kat


Skopje, Macedonia 1992

Marko had to be the man sitting in the airport café behind a cup of coffee and a dissipating cloud of cigarette smoke. He wore a brown leather jacket and gray slacks. He was of medium build. He had hazel eyes and coarse, dark brown hair that was manipulated forward into a short, messy mohawk. He made eye contact with Reed as soon as they exited the plane. Marko tipped back the last of his coffee. He just watched as each of them passed him by, one by one. An agreement was made not to make contact in the airport. It was too risky, so each team member would have to find their way to the rallying point; the Alexander the Great monument in Skopje City Park. Serb scouts wouldn’t go that far into the city. Once there, Marko could meet them.
Before he reached the end of the hallway, Reed looked over his shoulder one last time. He could see Marko now standing at the payphone in the café. Marko couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty years old. He had a soft, juvenile glow about him. Reed expected someone much older; someone a little more salted and dog-eared. Sam said Marko had been fighting underground for eight years. He would have been only a boy then. For the first time in two weeks the team separated and departed in different directions out of the airport.
Marcielli, Flo and Angelo were all wearing zip-away jogging outfits, supposedly heading to some winter games at the Ancient Colosseum. Otto was dressed as a businessman in a gray suit with a briefcase containing the op orders. He was also greeted by a beautiful Macedonian wife who waited for him at the gate. Otto would soon owe Marko for the long, intense kiss she planted on his lips when they embraced. Reed was more relaxed with his LA Dodgers baseball cap, a white t-shirt, blue jeans and black Converse All-Stars. His story was simple. He was American and he wasn’t going to fool anyone. He was looking to study abroad and was touring the capitols of Europe, checking out their universities.
The Italians all got into one taxicab and headed to the Ancient Colosseum. Otto and his new wife walked to the parking lot and got into an older model BMW and headed for their apartment in the north part of the city. Reed waited for his luggage and then stopped at the tourist info shop and bought a map of the city. Then he hailed a taxicab to the industrial part of the city near Cyril and Methodius University. In one hour’s time, Marko would meet them in Skopje City Park.
Otto knew he had to be watchful. For now, he had the responsibility of safeguarding the op orders. As the Macedonian woman drove, Otto held the briefcase on his lap. He kept checking the rearview mirror.
“Don’t worry, that’s Marko in the blue van. He’s following us.” The women spoke in broken English. But Otto couldn’t complain. His English wasn’t any better.
“My name is Katelina. Call me Kat. I’m with the Kosovo underground. We have been waiting a long time for outside contacts. Marko has done everything in his power to get you out here. You won’t believe what has been going on in the last few months.”
Otto wasn’t sure how much she knew about the mission or how much he was allowed to discuss with her. He didn’t trust anyone at this point and he promised himself not to get beguiled by her beauty. She had silky, sandy-blond hair that was pulled and wrapped tightly in a bun. Dark framed glasses had fallen a little on her nose, magnifying her big green eyes. She had a cat-like mouth that curled flirtingly at the ends. She was in business attire like Otto. Her jacket was cut to fit her petite body. Her skirt matched, both pinstriped. She wore black heels that she removed to drive. Her legs were smooth and defined. Otto could tell that she was uncomfortable in this kind of dress.
“I’m happy to be here. Forgive me for not saying much.” Otto tried to be as straight forward as possible.
“It’s okay. I understand. If you check under your seat, you will find an automatic handgun. Take it and tuck it under your jacket. From what we understand, you need to protect that case.”
Otto was impressed with the amount of trust he was shown. He found the gun, checked it for ammunition and tucked it into his jacket. Otto noticed a large diamond on Kat’s wedding finger. He wondered if it was part of the disguise or if she really was taken. When they reached the apartment, Kat led Otto up to the third floor. They passed four doors before they reached flat number ‘25’.
Kat removed a single key from her pocket and unlocked the door. “Get yourself something to eat if you like. We’ll be leaving for the park in about thirty minutes.”
The apartment didn’t look like anyone had been living there. There were maps and blue prints up on the walls. Newspaper articles and convenient store coffee cups littered the apartment. There were two TV’s hooked up to satellite and an older style ham radio receiver on the floor. Otto wondered when the place had been cleaned last. He walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see there really was food in the refrigerator.
“I’m not hungry but I will have a drink.” Otto grabbed a bottle of coke and walked over to the window. He saw the blue van parked next to the BMW they were driving. And then Otto heard someone opening the front door. The sound startled Otto and he reached inside his jacket; placed his hand on the gun.
“It’s okay Otto. It’s just Marko,” assured Kat. She lunged for Marko and held him tightly for a moment.
Otto was relieved to see that it was the same man who was sitting in the café at the airport. With Kat still holding on to him, Marko held out his hand toward Otto. “Marko Sava, I’m glad you could make it. I don’t think anyone was followed.”
Otto switched the briefcase into his left hand in order to greet Marko. “I’m Otto. Thank you for the coke.”
“We don’t have a lot of time. You can relax for a moment, but I need to prepare some things for the road.” Marko clicked on one of the satellite TV’s and then began packing supplies into a duffle bag. Scenes in Sarajevo flashed on the screen. Dead bodies in the street, people who tried to get through “Sniper Alley”. Even though Marko was young, he appeared to Otto as a very serious man with a lot on his mind. His experiences; this lifestyle, seemed to have pushed him well beyond his age. Otto was headed back into the kitchen toward the window when Marko called him to attention.
“Otto, we already have something in common. We both like to kiss my fiancé. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted. It won’t happen again.”
Otto was impressed with the command and fortitude of this young man. Otto thought it appropriate to tell a white lie. “It was terrible, I prefer bigger and burlier German women, and much, much older.” All three laughed.


************

“America, yes?” The taxi driver had a clever look on his face, pleased with his discovery that Reed was not a local.
“Yes sir, I’m American.” Reed quickly remembered he needed to change the way he spoke from now on. He had already let his hair grow out a little. He needed to sound more like a college student and less like a soldier.
“What could you possibly want to see in Macedonia, a brewery, a coal factory perhaps?” The driver laughed. Reed could tell he was about 40 years old. He wondered how many Americans this man had taxied around in Macedonia.
“Actually, I’m checking out some colleges. I’m studying abroad next year and I want to see what you guys got.”
“My mother told me I should go to college. I should have listened. Now I drive taxis. But the money is okay sometimes. It depends on the tips I get.” The driver turned his head a little. Reed could see a grin reshaping the man’s profile.
Reed was warned that most people in Europe believed all Americans were rich. There was some truth to that, Reed thought. Compared to other countries, Americans generally did have more money.
“I might find something extra in my wallet if a good place to eat is recommended.” hinted Reed.
“Some of the best places, you won’t find on that map of yours. I’ll drop you off at Leon’s. From there, it’s only a short walk to the University. Tell them Momir sent you.”
Reed noticed most of the buildings in town had a communist look to them. There weren’t a lot of colors, just gray. The different businesses had their names atop the buildings in the same block lettering. Most of the trees had lost their leaves for the winter. There were patches of melted snow that were gray and peppered with fallen coal. Off in the distance, Reed could see spires jetting upward out of the mosques. They drove by meat markets and bazaars packed with people trying to buy and sell goods. It appeared that most Macedonians relied on their own two legs for transportation. Skopje seemed like it was once a beautiful place, only in recent years had it been let go. Her attention was stolen away for a decade while her inhabitants fought for identity and autonomy. She had not yet seen genocide, but had shouldered those who did.
When the car stopped at Leon’s, Reed got out and handed Momir a hundred dollar bill. It was about fifty times the amount he owed him, at least a month’s wages. Momir didn’t know what to say. He knew he didn’t have change, but then Reed began to walk off. Momir just stared at Reed in