Carpathian (11 page)

As over fifty of the workers slept on cots inside the massive nightclub, several of the men were still completing some last-minute work on the outside floodlights that would highlight the scarred cliff face the castle was pressed into. Two of these men walked silently to the patio stairs and hopped over the old-fashioned wooden railing that was actually tube steel and made their way out of the glare of the floodlights. One of the men pulled out a small bottle.

“Here, this ought to help you sleep tonight.”

The second man accepted the bottle and, tilting his hat back on his head, turned up the container of fiery liquid. The Romanian equivalent of American moonshine called
Ţ
uic
ă
burned its way down the small man’s throat. He held the bottle up until the second, much heavier man pulled it away.

“I said help you sleep not put you in a coma,” his friend hissed as he wiped his dirty sleeve over the mouth of the bottle and then capped it. He looked around at the ancient rock face. “This wouldn’t be the place to be if half that mountain decided to come down on top of this damned monstrosity.”

“Landslides and avalanches in the winter aren’t the real danger here and you know that. As beautiful as this place is, the valley below, the pass above, even the villages scattered throughout both mountain and valley can’t hide the fact that something is wrong here.”

“Ah, it’s just rumors and old wives’ tales the old-timers inside told you about that’s got you going. Stop staying up late listening to those old beards and you’ll find sleeping may come a little easier. Now,” the man burped and then slapped the smaller man on the back, “we better get back up there before they cut the power to the lights.”

The two electricians looked at the deep shadows cast by the lighting hitting the crags and deep scars in the face of the small mountain, and at that moment you could understand the tension the workers at the makeshift construction site felt when the old stories were repeated. Even the old Hollywood films from Universal Studios were brought up and why those old films had always turned their nation’s legends into running jokes. The old-timers said the entire world had always underestimated the tales coming out of Romania and that the world most definitely had it wrong about this area of the Carpathians.

As they started to make their way up the small incline of loose rock to the railing above to pull themselves back onto the outdoor patio they both heard the sound of falling rubble from above them in the darkness of the mountain. It wasn’t a large slide, but enough that it echoed in the crags and minute valleys of stone above their heads.

“Maybe it’s a few more of the men leaving in the middle of the night—it’s always on this shift that they quit and make their way down to civilization.”

The younger man was clearly frightened and just hoped that was the case. His friend knew just like everyone else that indeed several of the night shift work detail had quit and moved on, with several leaving their small bags, backpacks, and a suitcase or two—one even left some very expensive tools behind in his haste to leave the mountain and the hard conditions working inside the castle.

As the large electrician reached the rail a few feet above his head, the floodlights illuminating the mountainside went completely out.

“Damn it!” hissed the man as his hand missed the rail on his first attempt. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t break our necks out here.”

“Hurry up, it’s not that dark, I can see your hand, it’s only—”

Suddenly a shape that was just a blacker spot on the black night shot out from the patio deck and grasped the large man by the wrist, snapping it in five places. Then to the horror of the second electrician the man was pulled straight up and over the railing of the darkened patio. The action only took three seconds and not a sound was made outside of the snapping of bone and the sharp intake of breath from the man that was now gone.

The smaller man’s eyes were wide and he felt the shivers start as he neared a state of shock brought on by the suddenness of the assault on his friend. The young Romanian swallowed and then slowly started shaking as he reached up and removed his hat just to keep his hands busy.

As he placed one foot in front of the other he allowed the hat he held in his left hand to fall to the loose shale at his feet. He held tightly to the stone facing of the fake blocks making up the castle walls as he slid first one, and then the other foot along. His left hand rubbed the wall as the night seemed to get even darker than it had been before. His hand touched something that wasn’t the fake veneer of the stone blocks. Whatever it was it moved and that was when the floodlights above flickered and then came back on. The man closed his eyes, refusing to see the thing that he knew was blocking his path to the front of the castle. He heard some soft clicking noises that moved to his front and then disappeared above him. The man opened his eyes to nothing ahead of him except for the shadows cast by the bright light from above.

“God,” the man whispered in his native Romanian. And that was all he could say in his relief at being alone. He turned his head back toward the patio to make sure there was nothing there staring back at him.

The small electrician took a deep breath when he saw that the night was perfectly normal behind him at the rear of the castle. As he turned his head to start forward again he felt the wetness as it struck his hatless head. He reached up and felt his hair and pulled it away. A clear substance was running off his shaking fingers as he looked up to see what exactly had drooled on him. His eyes again widened as he came face-to-face with his own personal nightmare. The beast was actually hanging upside down, its claws dug so deeply into the stone veneer that it held itself perfectly straight above the frightened man.

“Oh,” was all that was uttered in shock before the claws and teeth went to work.

*   *   *

Another two workers were unaccounted for at breakfast the next morning. It was assumed that they had quit after their shift and like the others had made their way back down the mountain to save them the embarrassment of admitting that the dark, foreboding countryside frightened them.

The newly built nightclub that would service the brighter gem of the project below in the valley had claimed a new chapter in the sordid history of the Carpathians.

As in the time of Prince Vlad Tepes, the new Castle Dracula had been christened by blood.

*   *   *

Janos Vajic stood on the blade of a Japanese-made bulldozer and surveyed the hotel, casino, and hot springs garden dome that covered the nearly forty-square-mile resort and was satisfied that the $2.7 billion project was nearing completion and he would be open on time and under the budget forced upon him by his partners—partners with a history of being unforgiving toward failures where their investments were concerned.

Vajic watched on satisfyingly as the last bit of Italian marble was placed around the 72,000-square-foot hot springs bath, gardens, and the magnificent tropical Environ Dome that would bring many thousands of visitors to see the most exclusive plant life in the entire world located in one place. The dome was his personal architectural wonder and actually disguised the control housing for the massive cable car system that ran up the mountainside well enough you couldn’t even tell there was a system. Tourists would board the cable car one hundred feet in the air at the top of the magnificent glass dome.

As he watched the final phase of construction nearing completion he spied the black Mercedes as it approached along the new highway built by the Romanian government so the public could get to the remote location at the southern tip of the Carpathian mountain range. He shook his head as he deftly jumped from the blade of the bulldozer. He was immediately approached by his assistant, Gina Louvinski, a Russian-born, Cambridge-educated general manager who spied the cursed vehicle at the same moment as Vajic.

“Well, this is it,” Gina said as she approached her boss and friend with her clipboard held firmly, ready for any and all questions as far as budgetary matters were concerned. “Shall we meet inside the hotel? I’m sure we can find a quiet ballroom somewhere where there aren’t a thousand workers still lingering.”

“No, the reason this magnificent hotel was built here was because of the beauty of the mountains. I will let the Carpathians do the intimidating,” Janos said as he made sure his coat jacket was buttoned. He looked at the clearing sky knowing that he would indeed be open before the fine summer weather started in this, the part of Romania that used to be known as Transylvania.

The two watched the Mercedes as it approached slowly, obviously so his main investor could see the progress that had been made since his last visit in January. As he watched the progress of the Mercedes, Janos looked over at Gina. She was dressed as a woman, not a woman trying to fight for legitimacy from a male-dominated Eastern society. Her business skirt was just above her knees and her white blouse was no-nonsense. Her gray jacket was devoid of any design save for the small pendant she wore on her lapel. The pendant was designed after the hotel’s main attraction, after the gaming aspect of the property of course: three mountains with the largest in the center lined with small golden flowers—this was the symbol for the multibillion-dollar hotel and casino project known by the name The Edge of the World Hotel and Resort Casino.

The Mercedes pulled to a stop and two men stepped from the front seat. One, from the passenger side, placed a hand inside his coat pocket and scanned the area around the car. The large man’s eyes settled on Janos and Gina and then moved on. He soon nodded to the second man, who then reached over and opened the rear passenger door of the black luxury car. A medium-sized man with a black-on-gray Armani suit complete with turtleneck stepped from the car and smiled widely as he scanned the area. He placed a large pair of expensive sunglasses on and then looked over at Janos and Gina. He raised a hand in greeting and then slowly approached, followed closely by the big man, whose hand was never far from his inside coat pocket.

Russian-born Dmitri Zallas was head of the investment group that supplied the funds and the bribes needed to complete the most luxurious hotel and casino this side of Monte Carlo, and one with a much better view. Zallas had come to Romania during the height of the rule of Ceausescu and never left, having stolen his spoils from the enslaved population during the reign of communism.

“My brother Janos, I see we are well on our way,” he said while ignoring the extended hand of the 35 percent owner of the Carpathian resort. Vajic lowered his hand, embarrassed that Gina had witnessed the disrespect the Russian had toward anyone he considered weak—which was everyone who wasn’t Russian.

“Yes, we will make the grand opening in three weeks on time and on schedule.”

“Magnificent,” Zallas said as he removed his sunglasses. He looked over at his limited partner. “By the way, friend Janos, we will be having a special gala affair the weekend prior. For three days we will host the most influential people in all of Europe.”

“The week prior, we won’t be ready!” Vajic quickly stated, which elicited a withering glare from Zallas.

“Oh, I think you will be.”

“Who are these people and how many are we to accommodate?”

“They are very special guests that look forward to a long weekend without worry or interference from the government.” Zallas cleared his throat. “Any government.”

“Russian and Romanian gangsters are what you mean,” Gina put in.

Zallas shot Gina the same look he had with Janos a second earlier, only this time the look remained.

“Ms. Louvinski, for a Russian-born patriot I am surprised you would think that.” The smile came on but the brightness of that gleaming gesture never reached his dark eyes. His teeth were actually showing underneath the well-trimmed beard. “After all, there is no such thing as a Russian mob, and most assuredly not Romanian.” He chuckled. “I don’t believe they are capable of organizing anything, much less crime. No, Ms. Louvinski, they are just tourists looking for a relaxing stay before the official grand opening.”

“Dmitri,” Gina objected, “the cell phone towers will not be up that weekend, the German contractors cannot adjust their schedule. There will be no phones with the exception of the landline and you know the phone service inside Romania is spotty at the best of times.”

“Oh, the guests will be warned to leave their business behind and just enjoy the resort.”

“But—”

The look from Zallas stopped the hotel’s general manager cold from persisting with her questions to Zallas and his suspect weekend guests.

“There will also be several friends of the Edge of the World Reclamation consortium from the Interior Ministry of your country, men that made this land grant possible. Men we have invested inordinate amounts of cash to.”

“The men who took land protected since the time of the Boyars and Vlad the Impaler and turned it over to a foreign national, men who—”

“You bore me, madam, to no end, and I don’t like to be bored in the slightest. Leave me and my friend to speak in private, please.” The “please” was purely a habit on the part of the most ruthless drug kingpin and organized crime leader in the history of the Russian people.

Gina turned on her heels and left the two men, all the while Zallas’s bodyguard kept a close eye on her shapely figure.

“I want no more distractions. The work is to be completed and the hotel in full operating mode. The casino will remain open and at our guests’ disposal twenty-four hours a day for the entire weekend. Full staff, I don’t care about the budgetary concerns you may have. The hotel will be reimbursed many times over by the favors that will be granted to us in our endeavors here in the Carpathians.” Zallas looked around him and took a deep breath as his eyes took in his pride and joy embedded in the side of the mountain, the reimagined Castle Dracula, the jewel in this Carpathian crown. “This is truly a magnificent location and I must say that is a fantastic site, my friend.”

Janos’s eyes followed Zallas’s as he scanned the rocky mountain range above them and the meadows of flowers leading up.