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"The Jahorina papers" is a story about human trafic,violated rights and abuse of power. |
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The Jahorina papers The Jahorina papers is about human traffic, abuse of power, but also about friendship and love. I have used Paul Damm's notes and his interviews as well the information Mina Mosanu has provided me concerning her involvement and her relationship with some International high ranked officials. She has also extensively described her last interview with hostile IPTF officers in the airport, before she was allowed to leave the country. Paul Damm has been my consultant during the writing of the manuscript, because he insisted that the sense of his feelings should not get lost. Note: All names are imaginary |
| Part II: The Nocolata Mosanu story Chapter 4: A bloody job *************************************** The office was a sparsely furnished room. On the left side stood a small ordinary table with two chairs, on the other side a shabby, dirty couch. Lots of obscene pictures covered the windowless walls while a closed door in the opposite wall seemed to give access to another room. Nicoleta stand in front of the grinning boss, sitting on the other side of the table. She glanced shortly at Tania, sitting crosslegged on the coach with an anxious expression on her face. Obviously she didn't enjoy to be there. Nicoleta wasn't stupid and all her illusions had went up in smoke the moment she had entered the bar. "You're new in the business", Tania translated Predrags conclusion. "Sit down" It was an order but Nicolata refused to give up so easily and replied: "No, thanks, I prefer to stay." She looked at Tania who reluctantly translated. She's afraid, concluded Mina. "So, you're a hard head, aren't you?" Predrag seemed amused, but the eyes didn't show amusement. He stood up, came around the table and his right hand slapped hard in her face, producing an awfully crack tone. Her head swung away and tears appeared on her cheeks, but she didn't produce any noise. She turned back, looking in his cold eyes. " Please obey and don't oppose to him...", explained Tania quickly but Nicoleta didn't listen and said with a throaty voice: " You may beat me as much as you like, it doesn't impress me, I'm used to be beaten. I'm here and I have to stay, so tell me what I have to do and I'll do it. Anyway, I do not have any choice!..." Tania translated and Predrag seemed surprised. Nicoleta was ready to take another blow but Predrag hesitated. He looked in her eyes and she withstood that sadistic look. He suddenly grinned and returned to his chair. "How old are you?" he asked. " Thirty" "Children?" "Yes, three" 'Hm.., so you're a woman and you know what men like to do with women, I guess?" She confirmed. "I guess you have already figured out what we'll expect ?" "I'm a country woman, not stupid." she replied shortly. "We'll find out. Take off you cloths" Nicoleta didn't expect that kind of order and she looked at Tania, who remained motionless and simply translated the conversation. "You can do it alone or I may give you a hand..." He continued impatiently. She knew that there would be no way out and that it would be stupid to provoke him more. She undressed fast and mechanically, putting her cloths on the chair besides her. It toke her less than a minute to stand complete nude. He laughed satisfied when she revealed her muscled but slim body, accentuated by a couple of small, firm breasts. She didn't try to cover herself with her hands, which would have been ridiculous given the circumstances. "Not so bad," he approved and stood up again, coming around, stopping in front of her. He put out his hands and enclosed the breasts. He squeezed them, toke the nipples between thumb and index, pinched hard, but Nicoleta didn't move. She instinctively felt that he just waited for an excuse in order to really get bad. He forced her body around while his hands slid downwards, discovering every part of her body even her most intimate parts. After a while, which seemed an eternity to her, he went back to his chair and said: "You're not a young girl anymore, but you have a marvelous body and you'll satisfy a lot of men. Get dressed" He waited until she's ready and he invited her again to sit down. She guessed that the worst part of the interview was over, so she accepted wordless. "Now listen, we have a few rules here." Tania translated automatically. "If rules are broken, punishment will follow!, not by me, but by my bodyguard and he's really bad. You'll meet him this evening" He lighted a cigarette, inhaled the smoke and continued. "Tania is my right hand, who will bring you my orders. I do not want any opposition to her. She will be behind the bar and she's in charge to bring drinks to the tables. She also takes the money, not you or anybody else. Understood?" She nodded. "All the girls here are dancers and they have to perform the whole night, dancing by turns. You'll only be excused when you have a room client." He inhaled again. "All girls have a place in the bar. They go to a client when invited and they remain as long as the client pay. You don't drink alcoholic beverages, only tea or juice cocktails. Time to stay for one drink is 15 minutes after which there'll be another order or you go back to your place with the other girls. You can follow?" Nicoleta nodded again. "Fine. You're here to earn money I guess, so as long you're here, you'll have to do the job. You get 50% of all earnings, but you'll have to pay for your room, working cloths and condoms. That will cost you about 2000 dollar a month. Going with a client to the room costs 50 dollar for 15 minutes, 100 for half an hour, 150 for one hour and so on. The client may wish to stay the whole night with you, which costs 400 dollars." Another inhalation of nicotine in his longs and Predrag continued summarizing the internal rules. "In the bar, you'll always be minimally dressed! Nudity will only be allowed in the upstairs rooms. You may be kissed, but not be touched in the bar. Tania will give you later on a private interview in order to go through the intimate details you'll need for the job. This evening, you'll not dance, but you'll be with the other girls, so you can observe what you'll have to do starting ...tomorrow. Questions?" Nicoleta didn't have questions. Anything was clear. "Nobody will leave the bar with a client without my permission! During the day, you'll have to learn the local language, a little bit English and other things." Predrag put out the cigarette in the ashtray and lighted immediately a new one. "Most of our customers are foreigners, working for international organisations. There also international police officers, which will regularly control our bar, because they think that we are forcing young women! Never forget that you're free to leave, but we'll not pay you if you don't respect your contract. Do you want to leave?" This was a stupid question because there was only one answer. "No" "Do you think you're forced to stay here?" "No" "Fine. So if someone asks you, tell him the truth. Otherwise ugly things may happen to you. We have our connections everywhere, so don't think you can fuck us!" He scowled at her, looking in her eyes. "No problem." Nicoleta knew she was a prisoner and that she would need money to escape. The only way to get money was accepting the immoral job. "If a girl tells bull-shit about us or this bar, she may be killed. Don't forget, I'm just the manager here, but powerful people are controlling the business, so be careful and control your words. More, if someone asks too many questions, inform Tania." "As you seem to be intelligent, I ask you to look at your two friends in order to avoid that they do stupid things. Made I myself clear enough?" The interview was finished. All by all, Nicoleta thought that she had escaped the worse, because she was convinced that her friends had been raped. But she knew that what didn't happen to her today, could happen tomorrow, or later... She was taken back by Tania in the bar room who introduced her to the other six girls, who had finally come downstairs. They all originated from Moldavia. Melinda and Lilia were sitting together with two of them. "Okay, girls, I'll call for food and in 1/2 hour we'll have diner." Tania disappeared and the girls made closer acquaintance. They all had a similar story to tell. They had been looking for a job abroad and they got trapped by heartless traffickers. The newcomers heard about a girl who was beaten to death because she had told international police officers that she had been forced into prostitution. She had made a testimony after which those police men left her on her own. She had joined the bar again, but Predrag's bodyguard had immediately separated her of her friends. She simply disappeared. A few days later, children had found her body in an empty completely wrecked house. It seems that she had been tortured, raped and finally beaten to death. International police officers had made an inquiry, but they had concluded pretty fast that the girl had been victim of criminals. This story was a clear warning to be careful. The girls told also that the bar seemed to facilitate Police protection, including International police. Anyway, the boss has always been informed of planned control patrols, so nothing suspicious could ever be found during their inspections. Thirty minutes later, an old man entered the bar. He was a local farmer who brought in the food for the girls. They all followed him outside, where they gathered bread, cheese, milk, chicken. All had been stowed in a dirty trunk of his old car. Tania paid him off outside. He thanked, jumped back in his car and drove away, enveloped in a thick black mist, caused by the broken and noisy exhaust pipe. They put the food on one of the bar tables, joined another table and they sat all together and started enjoying the meal. Tania stayed with them and Nicoleta felt that the other girls didn't like her so much, because no one said anything. They hadn't finished yet, when another visiter entered the bar room. He was tall, wearing a black leather jacket, jeans and black boots. Black sunglasses were hiding his eyes but the expressionless cold square face told enough about the man. Before Tania said anything, she guessed that the newcomer had to be Predrag's bodyguard. The man came over and faced immediately the new girls while Tania introduced him. "Slobodan Mesic, he's Predrag's right hand..." She switched language and told him who the three new girls were. The man nodded and turned around and disappeared in the staircase room. Tania followed him. She was barely out of hear distance when one of the girls whispered: "That's the man who killed Katja". Nicoleta heard this name for the first time, but she knew who was meant: that girl who had disappeared and had been found murdered. "He's a sadist and a rapist. Take care and do not provoke him or you may enjoy his special treatment.", continued the girl, called Olga Lisnic. She was a good looking twenty years old black haired girl. As all the others, she was sparsely dressed in the typical short skirt, a short tee-shirt and white panties. On her feeds she wore brown high open heels. She was heavy breasted but obviously didn't wear a bra. Tania came back but her face betrayed her. She brought bad news. "Olga, Slobodan Mesic would like to see you...". Olga didn't protest, stood up and joined Tania. Both disappeared again. "What's going on?" asked Nicoleta. The girls looked to each other and finaly, after a short hesitating, a blond girl listening to the name Irina Marco explained: "Slobodan can chose any of us and we're supposed to obey if we want to avoid his special treatment. Since Katja's death, we are verry carefull. He's a real beast. It seems that he once belonged to Milosovic body guards...." She stocked because Tania came back. "Okay ladies, everybody finished? We should prepare for the evening. This would be the first working day for the three newcomers. They started cleaning up and re arranging the tables when suddenly a blood-curdling cry immobilised them instantanteous. That awful sound had come from the staircase room. Nobody moved. Their was no other sound, but the previous one didn't predict any good. Finally Tania moved to the staircase house and Nicoleta followed her, without knowing why. The others seemed like marble statures. Tania opened the door and they reluctantly entered the room. The scene they discovered will probably be burned forever in their memories. A body laid on the bottom with the chest on the floor and two strangely twisted legs covering the five first steps of the stair. The head laid in a dark red sticky mass which was blood. The head was twisted around and it was obvious that the neck was broken. Blood poured from the head caused by a gaping wound on the backside due a violent contact with the soil. The poor victim was Olga and she must have been falling down the stair. But what had caused the accident? Nicoleta looked upwards. Slobodan Mesic stood straddle-legged and motionless at the head of the stairs. |
| Part II: The Nocolata Mosanu story Chapter 3: The pillory *************************************** After passing the doorstep, they entered a dark passage which brought them to a sparsely lightened room. A round platform with a cylindrical pole connecting its centre-point to the ceiling took their attention. The raised round surface's diameter didn't exceed one and a half meter and its purpose didn't need any explanation. Dozen small tables, surrounded by dark couches, were dispersed all over the place. In front of them was a bar. The shelves behind were covered with alcoholic beverages. Two heavy doors almost invisible, merged in a black painted wall on the right side. The small plate on the nearest door,indicating "WC" was obviously leading to the lavatory while the second one gave access to a staircase hall. The door swept open and a broad shouldered muscled man appeared. He had a square face, marked with a big red scar, beginning under the left eye tracing a large ugly track over the cheek in order to disappear behind the ear of which the lower part was missing. A big hawk nose and a couple of cold eyes completed that terrifying appearance. The two drivers shook hands with him and started to brief their trip. The giant was obviously not satisfied. They were discussing loud, but the youngest couldn't understand them because they were speaking Serb. Despite of the differences between the Russian and the Serb language, both have similar words and Nicoleta was able to guess that the man was not happy with only three newcomers. He had been expecting at least five. The two drivers were just carriers and probably not involved in the business itself, because the man took an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to the older driver. The drivers job was done, they thanked, shook hands again and left the room without waisting another word. They even didn't have a look for the three women, who by now were really afraid. They understood that their dreams were over. They could physically feel the cold eyes gliding over their bodies. This humiliating scan took a few minutes and finally a broad grimace appeared around his mouth. He suddenly turned around and shouted with a shrill voice : "Tania, amo" (Tania, par ici) A few second later, they heard someone running downstairs and a girl showed up facing the man with an anxious glance. She was a black long haired girl, obviously a young Moldavian beauty, sparsely dressed. She was wearing a ultra short skirt and a transparent t-shirt. She listened to the man's instructions and turned her face to the girls. "Hello, I'm Tania. That's Predrag, he's the boss here." The girls nodded briefly in his direction but avoided to look in his eyes. "I'm from Moldavia as well and I'm living with Predrag. I'll be your instructor for the next couple of days. Does one of you speak the local language?" No one did. " Okay, you'll have to learn the Serbian language, because we're living here in a Serb area, but don't be afraid, it will be easy for you, especially if you learned Russian before." She was looking at Nicoleta. "As you can see, you'll work in a bar. That means, you'll have to dance during the evenings." No reaction, because they were more and more afraid. " Who did this work before?" Tania asked, now looking at the two younger girls. "We did," Melinda confirmed hesitating. "And you?" The question was meant for Nicoleta. "I was working on the fields" She answered a little bit snappy. "That's no problem, I'll learn you how to dance. It's much easier than milking cows." She tried to joke, but nobody was laughing. "Look around, that will be your working place for a while. You'll dance and you'll drink with the guests. You'll like the payment, because the boss is very generous, giving you 50%." She interrupted briefly her speech, as if she expected a thundering applause. " I can understand, you didn't expect that kind of job, but be honest, you have left the country to get money,haven't you? So this isn't a difficult job and you'll have a lot of dollars after just a short time...." There wasn't any conviction in her voice. "I'll show you your rooms. You can bring your luggage upstairs, install and in one hour you'll come down and I'll tell you anything you have to know...." The man interrupted her with some remark and disappeared in the small staircase room, without saying another word. "Okay, follow me." Tania brought them upstairs where they entered a long corridor with 5 doors on each side. They stopped in front of the second one and Tania opened first the left and then the right door. " I guess you'll stay together?" The two youngest were meant. The answer was affirmative. Nicoleta got the second room on the right side. The rooms were small. They contained one two-person bed, a table and a two-doors wardrobe. "The rooms have to be shared by two persons", Tania explained "But for the moment you'll be alone." So Nicoleta entered her room and put the luggage besides the bed. A small window was blinded. "The bathroom is on the end of the corridor. I let you alone, don't make too much noise, because the other girls are still sleeping" And Tania left them alone. She went downstairs and entered a room behind the staircase to join her boyfriend, the sinister boss. The three newcomers arranged their belongings in the wardrobe and meet again in Nicoleta s room after a while. "That's not what we were expecting.." said Melinda. Nicoleta nodded and said: "There's no way back, because we do not have enough money. We're prisoners here." "What will you do?" "What I have to do. I have children and promised my sister to send her money, so I'll try to survive here until I have enough to return." She answered bitterly. There was nothing else to say. After one hour they went downstairs and joined Tania, who was already waiting in the bar room. "Okay girls, I'll show you the basics of dancing. We're not supposed to provide artistic performances, just get the guests excited so they spend their money.", she tried to joke. "I'll show you my presentation so you get an idea of what we're expecting..." She went behind the bar and switched on the hifi equipment. She picked up a CD from a drawer and put it in the player. Some electronic beat music came up and Tania came back, taking place on the round platform. She started moving her hips, pushed her body against the pole, sliding down and up, making a tour around, so they could see her string, embracing the pole with one leg, moving down and up again, following the rhythm of the music. Her performance was pretty sexual. She suddenly seized the pole, swinging both legs upwards, catching the cold bar between the tights, head hanging downwards. Her body slid slowly downwards, while turning in a spiral around the pole, until the hands reached the soil. Her legs released their hold, flying over her head, coming down, putting the feet besides her head. Very acrobatic and sensual, showing a couple of muscled spread legs with a minuscule peace of white tissue in between, barely covering her femininity. The whole body was bent over the head and she was standing on hands and feet, belly upwards and a smiling face between two legs. She remained in that position for a few second before swinging the legs back, caching and pressing the pole between them after which her hands left the soil, while her body swung up again allowing her hands to seize the pole again in order to take over the hold from her tights. She let them falling down and was now standing up against the round bar. She made another round and stopped moving. She was laughing, seeing the confused glances on their face. "Don't be afraid, we're not expecting acrobatics from you. What matters is that you move your body sensually around the pole, so the men catch glimpses of your underwear." "Who will start?" Melinda volunteered. "Let's choose some music for you." They went all to the bar and Tania opened a drawer containing three rows of Cd's. "Take your time, I'll be back in a moment". Tania disappeared through the staircase door and the three newcomers were alone. They started checking the Cd's without a word, as if the wall could hear what they would say. They were still looking for appropriate music when Tania came back. "Melinda, the boss wants to see you. It's for an interview." The Romanian girl reluctantly followed her while her friends suddenly found some Cd's. Nicoleta hesitated not long and put her choice in the player. She never danced alone before but she thought that it would be better for her to do something, knowing that they didn't have an alternative. She took place on the round platform and started moving her hips in front of the pole. Lilia stand besides, giving her advice, because she was already a dancer. This strange training session took almost one hour. They changed place, changed the music and tried again. Nicoleta would never forget that awful day on which her life completely changed. But the worst had still to come. Melinda came back and they could she her swollen lids obviously the result of weeping. She didn't say a word and looked downwards. Tania stand in the doorway and called Lilia to come over. Nicoleta noticed a red line on Melinda's left cheek and she understood. That interview had been more than some talking. She saw that her shirt was also ripped. She didn't ask what happened, but embraced softly Melinda's shoulders. She was aware that in a while she probably would experience the same horror, so why ask questions? Lilia came back only thirty minutes later, but the expression on her face betrayed what Nicoleta would find out soon. "Nicoleta, please come..." That first day the three girls were tested by Predrag Milosevic in order to find out whether or not they needed help for the second part of their re-education, consisting of satisfying the desire of healthy clients. They were suddenly convinced that dancing would be the easiest part of their new job. Welcome to hell. |
| Part II: The Nicoleta Mosanu story Chapter 2. Destroyed illusions. ****************************************** Six month's later. Somewhere in Romania at night. A foreign-made van was the only moving vehicle and the only sign of life in the deserted rural area. The small winding road was scarcely visible in the strong dazzling beam, produced by wrongly adjusted headlights. No houses. Only fields, prairies and trees. Two men were sitting in front. The driver was a corpulent man in his late forties. His colleague was a lot younger, certainly not older than thirty. He was tall and muscled. The square face seamed with scars and the cold expressionless eyes completed his sinister appearance. On the back seat sat three women. The older one was Nicoleta Mosanu. The others were Melinda and Lilia. Both were not older than 21. Nicoleta had met Lilia just before leaving Balti (* Town in Moldova). Melinda had joined them shortly after they had crossed the Romanian border. A short talk had revealed that they were all supposed to travel to Austria. They hadn’t talked so much so far and the two fellows on the front seats were not very communicative. They were just smoking all the time and the non-smoking girls didn’t have enough courage to complain. They were so exited because their life was going to change. They were right but the change would not be as they expected. The so long-awaited chance to say goodbye to poverty was becoming reality. They were leaving for the first time their families. Nicoleta was staring through the window, fixing the hypnotic impenetrable darkness passing by. She was just thinking on her children she had left behind under her sister’s supervision. Taking leave had been painfully and was accompanied with lots of tears. She had also abandoned her husband. No man would ever beat her again! But Boris had not taken that separation for granted. During that period of waiting for the departure signal, she had used a trick to bring her children to her sister's house and to stay with them. Her husband had tried to force her back, but her brother in law made him clear that it would be better for his health not to insist. For the first time in her life, Nicoleta had planned her own future, and there was no place for Boris neither for any other man. She promised her sister to send money from Austria. She would also work for her own house and stay abroad as long she didn’t have enough savings to realise her objectives. She was so determined. Her children would enjoy a better live. She would take care of it. But Nicoleta was not a young innocent girl. Life had been hard, leaving many physical but also psychological scars. Although she wanted to believe in a better future, she had lost trust in people. The two silent individuals in front of her didn’t inspire trust at all, contrary to that young polite guy from the travelling agency who had convinced her to try her luck abroad. Anything should be okay. She had received her passport with a visa for Serbia but not for Austria. Before getting in the car she had asked why there wasn’t a stamp for Austria but the older man just waved her concern away with a smile. “Don’t worry. We will have a two days stop in Belgrade in order to get the visa for Austria. It’s all arranged”, he had said. Nicoleta had to accept that clarification. This was her first travel abroad. She didn’t know anything about immigration politics, visas and human traffic. Let’s continue dreaming! Why worry, finally this travel was arranged by a respectable man working in a respectable public travelling office, so nothing should be wrong. But doubts started disturbing those beautiful pictures in her mind. Why were they travelling exclusively at night, using only small tracks instead of the much faster and more safely main roads? The place where they had made a stop and where they had slept last night could badly be called a house. It was just a barn, furnished with a few beds covered with dirty mattresses, a table and a broken washbasin! But who cares, in a few days she would be living in a nice house somewhere in Austria. She turned around and peeked at the other girls. Melinda the Romanian girl, nearest to her, was a beauty. She was wearing long, blond hair, bordering a nice looking oval face completed with a little pout, a little tip-tilted nose and blue eyes. She had a slim body but favoured with firm breasts, barely hidden behind a tight yellow sweater. She was wearing tight jeans, accentuating long, slim legs. Lilia originated from Chisinau (Moldavian’s capital). She was a black long haired good-looking girl, dressed in a white t-shirt and blue Jeans. She had a strong muscled body, accentuated with big breasts and thick legs. She was cute but using too much make-up and mascara, which made her looking much older. Nicoleta was wondering for what kind of job they had been engaged. The second night passed and they were still on Romania soil. Daylight was coming up and that sinister man asked the driver, after he had checked his watch: “Are we getting there in time?” It sounded worried. “Ten minutes” Nicoleta was tired and wanted to close her eyes, but hearing the last remark, she guessed that they would stop in a while. She discovered a deserted environment. There were only crops on both sides of the small track. No houses, no traffic. After a few hundred meters they turned to the left and were now bumping over a bad cart road. They were seriously jolted, but not for too long. After a few hundred meters, she saw a wooden barn being in a miserable state. The roof contained multiple holes while the walls were half rotten and devoured by all kind of insects. After the previous night’s experience, she was afraid that this would be the place for another rest. She was hungry and thirsty, hoping that the two silent individuals would distribute some food and drinks. Inside the barn they found a similar interior as they already had discovered last day. They were wordless, looking at each other. The creep entered and put just one bottle of water and some chocolate on the table without any comment. His cold eyes were shamelessly scanning their bodies. The women instinctively turned away avoiding those hungry glances. For the first time since they had left, they were afraid. There were no chairs and they had to use the bed to sit down. Both men went outside. Nicoleta tried to start a conversation. “What will you do in Austria?” “Dancing in a real cabaret”, Melinda answered. “Me too”, confirmed Lilia, “and you?” “Oh, just painting interiors.” “Okay”. The driver interrupted their short conversation and said: “You should better take a rest. To night we’ll drive at once to Belgrade” They just had one small travelling case each, stowed away in the trunk. “The trunk is open, if you need some stuff…” There were no toilets and they had to find a more or less hidden place behind the barn, somewhere between the long weeds, in order to find a minimum of intimacy. The bottle of water was quickly emptied but the men didn’t provide another one and they didn’t dare to ask for. They were all exhausted and went to bed. The two men went outside and the youngest made a call with his mobile phone. Nicoleta heard the long discussion without understanding a word, because the used language was Serbian-Croat. The discussion was still ongoing when she felt asleep. They continued their trip in the late evening, when the dark had already embraced the area. The women felt dirty, because there had been no way to make one’s toilet. They even didn’t dare change cloths and it was obvious that the younger girls remained close to Nicoleta, instinctively searching for some protection. The travel continued and the same scenario as the other day was repeated. Nobody said a word. Only the men exchanged from time to time some short opinion concerning a change of road or to damn the bad state of the track. Nicoleta will later find out that the guides were ordered to avoid any contact with the women. Actually she was now too excited to think rationally, because they would soon cross the Romanian-Serbian border. That night, the women didn’t talk to each other. They seemed afraid to ask some questions, as they felt already that something was going wrong. Why driving at night, avoiding any traffic source in using dangerous field roads? At the border, the younger guy left the car after he had collected their passports and he disappeared for a while in the customs office. He left that office ten minutes later with a satisfied smile on his ugly face. He nodded in the driver’s direction and returned the passes without any word. The travel continued direction Belgrade, where they arrived a few hours later. There was no stop in the capital. The sun was already coming up and Nicoleta was convinced that they would stop somewhere outside the town. She was right. After a while they reached a big white house, a few hundred meters off the main road along a small field track. They stopped on the broad parking in front of the property. It could not be seen from the road, hidden by a stretch of woods. “We will stay here for a couple of days, so take your luggage,” barked the creep. They obeyed wordless and followed him to the house. The door opened and a young woman welcomed the newcomers. “Is Igor there?” asked the older one. “Yes, he’s waiting inside for you. You’re on time.” She turned towards the women and asked: “Did you have a good trip?” “Yes, thanks” answered Nicoleta, who felt relieved seeing a young woman speaking her language. “My name is Tania. Follow me, I’ll show you your room.” They entered the hall of the house and followed Tania upstairs, using the broad winding stairs. On the first floor, their hostess brought them in a comfortable room, well furnished with three beds and an equal number of wardrobes. Nicoleta immediately discovered the bathroom. The bad travelling conditions were forgotten for a while. Everything would be okay, she thought. Tania was a young Moldavian beauty with that typical long black hair. She could be no older than 25. She had a lovely figure, exposed by the scarcely cloths she was wearing. The red ultra miniskirt hardly covered the underwear and she obviously wasn’t wearing a bra. “You had a long trip, so you can take all the time to recover, take a shower, have some rest and prepare for dinner. I’ll let you alone, but be ready at 12 o’clock”, Tania clarified with a mechanical voice their situation in a matter-of-fact tone. The beds were covered with clean sheets. The bathroom was huge and fully equipped. The women forgot their doubts and started laughing and talking. Nicoleta remained rather distant. She was looking around, happy but not convinced that the luck was finally destined for her. Was this awaiting her in Austria? They used the bathroom in rotation and changed their sour smelling cloths. They became also chatty and exchanged for the first time information about the way they got involved in this adventure. Their experiences were similar and their destination seemed to be the same: Vienna in Austria. Nicoleta didn’t tell about her preparation and her former life, but the girls were enthusiast. Melinda and Lilia had both worked in a bar, the better word for brothel, as a pole dancer, but the earnings were not so positive. Lilia had visited an agency after have read an advertisement in a newspaper. Melinda had visited a similar office on advice of one of her former customers. They were enjoying every moment. At noon, Tania appeared again, dressed in the same outfit. “Okay, ladies, we will have dinner together and I will tell you what will happen during the next few days.” “Are we going to stay overnight?” asked Nicoleta. “Maybe, we’re waiting for confirmation by phone call...” The answer was everything but reassuring. The announcement made Nicoleta wondering where the two creeps were and she hoped that they had disappeared for ever. Her wish would be satisfied, but not as she had imagined. They went downstairs and entered a huge diner room. Nicoleta concluded that this house must have been a hotel in another decade, because there were no signs of other guests. The dinner was excellent and all problems were brushed away. The dream was going on, becoming reality. But the awakening was so close… “I have good and bad news” Tania suddenly said, during the dessert. They had been enjoying some sweet cake made in Belgrade but the tree women immediately stopped eating, facing their hostess in growing terror, expecting the worse announcement they could imagine: have to return. “We got the phone call from Austria and we were informed that the vacancies are not available anymore.” The dream came to its final stage. The cake didn’t taste anymore. “But we are a serious company, so we already have made arrangements.” Tania continued. “And that’s the good news: the solution we are proposing you may finally be more profitable!” she said grinning. She could literally see the question marks appearing in their terrorised eyes. “What do you mean?” Nicoleta asked after a short reflection. “You know Kosovo? The war is over and the country is actually controlled by UN troops. Dozens of International organisations operate there and will probably stay for a long time. All those Internationals are earning big salaries and they all need help. They need cooks, cleaning woman, painters for their offices and apartments …” “Where should that be?” “Mitrovica, this is located in the Northern part of Kosovo. It is also a Serb area…” “But we don’t speak the language!” “That’s not a problem. In fact, you’ll have to learn some English, which is the language all Internationals speak. Don’t forget, in a few months you’ll have collected enough money to return wealthy to your families” “Will we do the same work as we would have done in Austria?” Nicoleta was really concerned. She knew about Kosovo and she also understood that after any war there’s only chaos left. She didn’t think that working in those areas was a good idea. “Yes and much better paid for sure” Tania replied quickly. “And if we don’t accept your offer?” “Oh, you don’t have to. You’re free to refuse and to go back to the misery you wanted to leave! But you have to understand that you’ll be on your own. You will have to pay for your travel back. We do not have any shuttle available to return people home. Keep in mind that we already spent a lot of money in order to prepare your documents and transport. We voluntary agreed to bear those costs, because they would normally be paid back by our Austrian contact Agency. Unfortunately, in this case we’ll loose our investment.” Everything was clear. Although nobody forced them to continue the adventure, they had to. Without money to pay the trip back there’s no alternative. “Are you sure we’ll get a job in Mitrovica?” asked Nicoleta again. She was hesitating and wanted confirmation for that promised job. The other girls were speechless and they had accepted Nicoleta as their spokeswoman. “Don’t be worry. As I already told you, the Internationals will need your support.” Nicoleta didn’t notice that suggestive undertone in the last remark. During the rest of the day, they were free. They relaxed in their room, but they didn’t feel comfortable neither were they reassured. Nicoleta tried to be positive, but she was not so happy with the actual situation. But what else could they do? They were prisoners in a foreign country. They had left poverty, promised heaven and wealth to their families. What a shame to go back with empty hands. No way. They had to go on. They didn’t stay a few days as was said. In the late afternoon, Tania told them that a new phone call had again changed plans and that they had to be prepared in order to leave in the early evening with other guides. Another team, another van and another destination. The young driver was dressed in a black leather suit. He didn’t speak Romanian. His partner was wearing a blue jeans combined with a white T-shirt and he just knew a few Romanian words. He was a good looking guy with almost female delicate features. They formed the new team which picked up the tree women. The younger one stowed the luggage in the trunk and they drove off without having any conversation. Tania stood in the doorway with a forced grin on her face, waving goodbye. That was part of her job, reassuring newcomers. The two men were smoking all the time while loud telling dirty jokes, from time to time exuberantly laughing. Although the girls didn’t understand, they could guess the nature of their jokes. The men didn’t bother about their passengers and they just respected the rules of the contract. They were paid for it. They drove the whole night and arrived in the early morning in Mitrovica. The scars of war were still visible. They encountered a lot of French and British military KFOR vehicles. Soldiers were everywhere, heavy armed and dressed in flag jackets and helmets. Was this the Promised Land where the money could be gathered so easily? The van left the main road, driving up to the outskirts of the town. Ten minutes later, the young playboy type turned around with a dirty smile on his face. “There we are, ladies…” The car had stopped in front of a two store high, small building. Nicoleta discovered a board above the entrance, fastened with two small chains on a metallic bar and flapping in the wind. The words were written in Cyrillic, but her Country had once belonged to Russia. During that period she had learned the Russian language including the Cyrillic alphabet. She was not stupid and she understood immediately. On that very moment she knew that the entrance to that building was not the gate leading to the paradise. The name on that board didn’t need further explanation: “Erotic Bar” This was a bar. This was nothing else than a brothel. |
| Part II: The Nicoleta Mosanu story Chapter 1. Born to suffer **************************************** Until 1945, Moldova was part of Romania but after the end of World War II, it was incorporated into the Soviet Union. Although independent from the USSR since 27 august 1991, Russian forces have remained on Moldovan territory east of the Dniester River supporting the Slavic majority population, mostly Ukrainians and Russians, who have proclaimed a "Transnistria" republic. Moldavia is one of the poorest nations in Europe. The official local languages are Moldovan (official, virtually the same as the Romanian language), Russian and Gagauz (a Turkish dialect). The country enjoys a favourable climate and good farmland but has no major mineral deposits. As a result, the economy depends heavily on agriculture, featuring fruits, vegetables, wine, and tobacco. Moldova must import almost all of its energy supplies from Russia. The country is composed of many counties and provinces. Balti is one of them. The Balti County is situated in Moldova’s north-eastern part near the Romania Border. The city of Balti (pronounced Belts), sometimes called the “northern capital of Moldova”, has a population of 155,000 and is the county’s main administrative and economic area. The city of Balti is some 125 kilometres north of Chisinau, Moldova’s capital. The city is situated on the Raut River... The Balti County is the second most populous county in Moldova, with a population reaching half a million inhabitants, which is about 12 percent of the entire population of Moldova. Outside of the city of Balti, the county is mostly a patchwork of farmland set amongst rolling hills. A number of small rivers snake through the County, including the Prut river, which separates the Balti county from neighbouring Romania, Raut, Ciuluc, Camenca, Cubolta and a number of other small rivers. All these rivers are quite small. The Prut River, which flows into the Danube and separates Moldova from Romania, is the biggest waterway in the region, but it is not suitable for navigation. The lake Stinca-Costesti, one of the biggest in Moldova, has been formed by a dam on the Prut River and has a total area of 540 sq. km. The county’s underground is rich in calcareous rock, stone, pebble and sand. After Balti, other big towns in the Balti County are Biruinta, Costesti, Falesti, Glodeni, Riscani and Singerei. Together with the city of Balti, these towns account for about two thirds of the Balti County’s inhabitants. About 44 percent of the Balti county residents live in urban areas. Moldavians (51 percent) and Ukrainians (11.7 percent) are the predominant nationalities in the county, with Russians and other nationalities accounting for the remaining portion. The majority of the county residents are of the Orthodox confession. The city of Balti grew around a patch of swampland about 600 years ago, during the era of Turkish domination. The city is also host to one of Moldova’s leading academic institution – the Balti State University Alecu Russo. Balti County is known for its colourful folk dance groups, for which Moldova is famous in many countries of the world. One of the main advantages of the Balti County is its location by the Romanian border. Two customs crossing points are located within a convenient distance from the city of Balti: one such point is at Costesti, in the north-eastern corner of Balti County, while the other crossing point is at Sculeni. The road system in the Balti County is quite well developed. The Sarateni-Balti portion of the Chisinau-Balti highway, which is currently being upgraded to European standards by Italy’s Cavallieri Ottavio, within a project financed by the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, is approaching completion. Railroads connect the city of Balti with Romania, through the town of Iasi, Romania, and with Ukraine through the towns of Moghiliv-Podilskii and Slobidka. On the border with Romania, trains have to change wheels to fit the narrower European railway tracks. The Balti County is an agricultural and industrial economic area. The county’s agriculture is based on one of the world’s most fertile black soils, chernoziom. Agricultural land covers an area of 324.2 thousand hectares. Nicoleta Mosanu was born in Singerei, a town which is situated about 30 kilometres south east from Balti town. She was the youngest of three children. Her sister was 3 years older, her brother 2. Her parents were farmers, as most of the people in the region and they were living in a small farmhouse. The family was living from the own harvest production as from the cattle breeding, the goats and the poultry. On very young age, Nicoleta had to work on the fields, in the cow house, the sty and the poultry house. She had to help with the cleaning of the animal housings, milking the few cows and the goat and she was doing her part in the production of cheese, making jam from different fruits and gathered berries on the hills. They were also selling their milk, cheese and eggs to the neighbours. Despite the lack of luxury and money, Nicoleta passed a happy youth. She went to the lower school and was eager to learn. Her mother always told her that knowledge was necessary in order to have a chance for a better live. At school she also learned the Russian language, because until 1991, Moldavia was part of Russia. The farm was too small to feed 5 hungry mouths. Anyway, daughters in that region marry very young. So did her sister who was lucky that her husband was belonging to the middle class. He was not a farmer and had a good job in town. Nicoleta's brother left the house some short time later, in order to look abroad for his fortune. She stayed alone at home with her parents and the hard labour. But she did never complain and felt still happy. Her mother helped her as much as possible with the school work, sometimes late in the evening after finishing the daily work. Her mother taught her how to treat diseases in using oils, elixirs and alcohols extracted from plants growing on the huge fields and on the hills spread out all over that region. Her father was still too young when he got ill. He was only 51 years old and he never recovered. He died a few months later, probably of cancer. It was a hard time for mother and daughter, but that was their destiny. That's the destiny of the majority of the people living in the rural areas. The independence in 1991 brought freedom, but not wealth. On the contrary, it was every man for him. Her mother understood during that period that Nicoleta should start thinking about her future and get married. She was only 14 years old when she got related to her husband, who was almost 20 years older. He was the only survivor of another farmer family, who formerly had been designated by both patriarchs as Nicoleta's future husband. She went living with her husband, celebrating the wedding due the local habits. Shortly after, her mother joined them, because she was not able to handle the whole farm alone. Her husband made the necessary arrangements and sold the stock. He was now the new patriarch, but he was a sluggard and preferred to spend all his time in town, where he joined his friends, drinking a lot. The earnings of her mothers sold belongings went in his pocket. They were now living in his property and he was the head of the family. Nicoleta didn't complain and continued what she was used to do. She went to school during the day, came back in the afternoon and helped her mother. Most of the time, her husband arrived late in the evening, completely drunk, causing inevitable discussions which could be extremely unpleasant. In the meantime her sister became pregnant and she couldn't come over anymore. She loved her older sister, the only person with whom she could discuss about her problems and feelings. She didn't love her husband, but there was no way out. People didn't marry for love, but for security. She was condemned to make the best of her marriage. A woman doesn't discuss her own situation, she only obey and serves her husband. Now she was feeling the solitude as she never had felt before. Her mother was weakening and it was obvious that she was suffering from rheumatism. Every day it was getting worse and finally she was condemned to stay in bed. She wasn't able to walk anymore and she needed permanent nursing. They didn't have money for a medical treatment and Nicoleta was taking care of her, using all the knowledge that her mother once had given her. Her mother needed a daily massage, in order to avoid unpleasant injuries caused by permanent lying on the back. Her husband didn't care. He continued enjoying his own life. Nicoleta got pregnant. She was barely 16 years old. But she had to do the farm work and to take care of her mother, while her husband even didn't respect her. This probably resulted in a miscarriage. A village doctor advised her to take a few days off. But this was impossible. The cows couldn't wait a few days for food neither to be released of their milk. Her husband was never available for her, neither was he willing to take over the most difficult tasks. And her mother also needed constantly help. Her mother’s agony lasted 5 years. One day, a few days after her 19th birthday, Nicoleta lost her mother, the last person who really cared about her. She saw her sister again during the funeral, after a long time of separation. Years ago, her husband had forbidden any visit from her sister, after they had a heavy discussion together. Time passed, but the situation didn't improve. Her husband maltreated her all the time, even when she became pregnant again. The result was the same as during her first pregnancy: she quickly lost the unborn child. The doctor once again warned her that she had to take care of herself or she risked never being mother. But at that time, a Moldavian woman didn't oppose to the husband! Without complaining, as usual, she continued with the daily routine as before, as she already had done it since an eternity. Her sister was already two times mother and her husband had bought a small car. When she knew that Nicoleta was alone at home, she came visiting her. During those short moments Nicoleta felt so happy. She was 21 now, a good looking young woman with long black hair and dark, but sad looking eyes. She eagerly wanted children, but she knew that it would be difficult due the way she was living. However, nobody could help her. She got pregnant again and she tried to be as careful as possible. She happy was really happy some 6 month's later because for the first time the baby continued growing inside her. She begged her husband to do the heaviest work, but he was just laughing in her face, saying that it was not his problem, leaving her alone and going for his usual trip to town. But this time she reached the end. Although she had to work until the last day, she had a successful delivery. Her sister visited her that day by coincidence and helped her during the last hours. Her husband wasn't there. It was a daughter. She was so happy. In the late evening her husband waked her up, complaining that she wasn't even able to give him a son! Her sister who was staying overnight heard what happened and she told him what she was thinking about his behaviour. He just grinned and went to sleep. Time passed and nothing changed the drag of daily life. Two years later she got another daughter and 4 years later, she got a son. The situation in Moldova had changed a little bit and in 1994 a new constitution had been accepted. People were able to become owner of their house. One day, her husband showed her the documents proving his ownership of the property. She ignored how he had managed that and where he got the money from. He refused to discus the matter and she understood that she had become a prisoner in her own house. Nicoleta's life didn't change, but she started to dream. She wanted to be free, have her own house in a big town, far away from this area, living quietly with her children, leaving her husband far behind. She was thirty now and still a beautiful woman, but her hands were becoming rough and as strong as those of a man. She loved her children as nothing else on earth and she wanted to give them a better life than what she was still experiencing. However she knew that her dream would never be realized when she would stay in the farm. Her husband remained less and less at home and she suspected him of adultery. She didn't care, because that gave her more time for her children and she could visit her sister more often, even she had to walk one hour to get there. Once a week, her sister took her and the children to Chisinau. These were the happiest moments of her life. One day in 2000, Nicoleta heard by coincidence that some travel offices were looking for young people who were willing to work abroad. They could earn a lot of money in the rich European countries as in Germany, Austria, and France. For the first time in her life she felt hope. She discussed the issue with her sister, telling her that she wanted to be free and that she would leave her husband. This was a brave but dangerous decision in this country. Her sister knew the whole situation, but she was hesitating and didn't accept Nicoleta's plan. Before getting involved in a ridiculous quarrel with Nicoleta, she first advised her sister to visit one of those recruit centres in order to get an opinion. There were a lot of them in the capital. Nicoleta accepted and they visited one of those offices. They were received by a young, good looking, and friendly man in a dark suit. He explained that the European countries were cheerful to receive young hardworking people because they were cheaper. Nevertheless, according the Moldavian standards, the salaries abroad were quit attractive. In a few years she could have enough money earned allowing her to buy her proper house. The smart recruiter understood immediately what the young women was looking for. Nicoleta, who never before visited a foreign country, heard the bells ringing. That was it. A fairy tale would become true. Her sister was not so reassured and asked a lot of questions but the young man new the right answers. No, there was nothing illegal. No, she didn't have to pay in advance for travelling, because the company had a contract with the European businessmen. A special bus would bring them to Austria, because that was the country which was actually looking for foreign workers. What had she to do then? Request a visa? Go to the Embassy? In fact, it was much easier as she had ever imagined. The company was doing all the administration work. She just needed a passport! But no panic, the agency had employees which would prepare everything. She just had to pick it up when ready. The next bus would leave in two months. There was time enough to arrange the trip to Austria. She was choosing for a painting job in Vienna. She filled in a formulary with her name, address, family, phone number (her sisters)... When they left that office, Nicoleta was already purchasing in mind her own house... She was determined and nothing could stop her anymore. A new life was waiting for her but she didn't know that she was going to enter hell... |
| Part I: The conspiracy Chapter 1. The intruder ********************************* It was late. The building seemed deserted and most of the windows were dark. The huge parking besides the 8 stores high roomy structure was almost empty. Only a few white UN vans and a few hired civilian cars formed the few black spots on the huge space. However, appearances may be deceiving. It was already 1100 PM, but three people were still busy in their offices. Their presence was not unusual, but that night, being there at the same time was pure coincidence and destiny would change their life. Nedim Mominovic sat in front of a flat flickering screen, studying the scrolling messages. He was testing the firewall functionality. He was the only technician already employed by Doom and being an engineer he had designed the Police Mission Planning Team’s computer network. They had both deployed the temporarily Head quarter’s network. The Planning Team was composed of approximately 50 people, working each on a workstation connected to one of the two servers, installed in their common office. The chief deployed also a workstation at home, directly linked to the HQ. Since they didn't have time to test its functionality yet, they had planned to do it on that particularly night. Their schedule also included testing of some administrator tools they wanted to employ later on and the actual task was an important part of the design process. The computer network would in the next future be deployed all over Bosnia territory, containing about 400 remote workstations. Patrick Doom knew that British Officials cared a lot about security issues concerning data access and transfer and he wanted to be prepared for any eventuality. He had already informed his engineer that access to the file servers should be limited to a minimum, until the commanding level would have accepted his proposal of security rules he wanted to be deployed. The problem was that all those bureaucrats didn't know anything about securing computer networks and the price you have to pay for it, according the chosen protection level. Everybody wanted to have access to Internet, which asked considerably security measures. On the other hand, the available budget was insufficient. Nevertheless Doom had to find a way to guarantee a stable and well protected system. He cared about the commanders policy! He would later deploy eight local engineers who would have all full access to the system! The EU leaders prefer local engineers, not for their skills but because they are less expensive than internationals. This policy is undoubtedly in contradiction with their own security rules! Doom knew that he had to live with it but he established a link to the network via his home computer. He wanted complete control of the system, so he could trace possible intruders. He also deployed a small local network in his apartment for testing purposes and analysis. Nedim was originally a Linux technician and that's why Doom selected him for the job. He knew that Linux system administrators were skilled computer freaks with a thoroughly knowledge of the system. Nedim knew about his bosses concern. He had designed the temporarily network with personal computers he had borrowed from the UN Information Technology Cell but which couldn't provide the indispensable hardware firewall nor the router. On the other hand the UN administration allowed the planning team to become client of its network. Doom refused and let Nedim build the firewall and router using personal computers running under Linux operating software. Nedim finished testing, and created his chiefs profile entering all needed information in the servers database to give him remote access control by using a secure VNP connection (see: virtual private networking technology). This technology is using a simple Internet connection as the physical link between the remote computer and the HQ server, creating a virtual tunnel between both connected computers assuring a highly safe and encrypted link. Nedim had also a separate computer containing Intrusion Detection System tools, also known as "sniffer", connected to the network with which he could collect all incoming and outgoing data packages. He checked from time to time the input stream until he saw that his chief had entered the system. Doom had now access to all the hard disks, he could test the whole Local area network and he had full control of the server if he liked. Nedim started the IP-address scanner and entered a range consisting of the IP Start address and the end address of the LAN in order to find out who's actually physically connected. Computers are connected to a network via network cards, cables and switches. They use a communication language called TCP/IP (Transport Control Protocol/Internet Protocol). This software layer does not only allow computers with different operating systems or processors in dialogue with each other, but also permits interconnecting different networks. But this universal protocol has a flaw and doesn't offer any physical security! Today, millions of computers are connected to local networks or Internet while most users ignore that they may be easily identified. Besides a unique physical address (MAC address), every working network card has also its proper assigned Internet Protocol address. This IP may be static (set up on the PC) or dynamically assigned by a DHCP server. This IP identity is composed of 4 numbers separated by a dot and each value can be in the range of 1 to 255, according to the network class. Anyway this address will always be inserted in the data packages leaving the network card interface (NCI). It works like a phone number. You have a phone number and you can easily find out who's the owner. Same with the IP address. All data sent through a network is cut in small peaces called packages, like a puzzle. Each package obtains identification information like sender IP, the routing information and the destination ID. That package will now travel from one router to another, until it reaches its destination network card where it will be saved and reassembled to the original data after all packages are received. Nedim knew that most EUPM managers thought that only the Internet access was the source of security leaks. They ignored that in most cases the real danger comes from inside the organisation! It's a fact that most hackers are working on local networks, collecting information about their chiefs or other celebrities, studying their behaviour on the local net or on Internet. Much hacker got sudden salary increase for what he discovered. Nedim was an administrator and he had fully access to all network features. He used the scanner as a test tool, to check connections. The scanner being a useful administrator tool is also an essential hacker tool! The checked addresses were scrolling down on his screen and after a few seconds, he found out that only 1 persons was busy on the network. The list started with 192.168.1.1 until 192.168.1.255, but only one address was marked in green. It seemed to be the Deputy Head of Mission. Nedim hesitated a while and didn't know what to do. He then repeated the scan session but the result didn't change. Alarmed,he picked up his GSM, pushed some numbers. "Patrick? It's Nedim here. There's a problem. I'm checking my administrator tools and during a scan, I have found out that the Deputy Head of Mission is working." "You're sure? Probably one of his colleagues may be using his workstation. nothing to worry about" "It isn't his workstation. It's the Laptop." Patrick Doom understood immediately. This could be a real problem because the Deputy Head of Mission couldn't be the user! He had left the building in the morning for a duty trip to Belgium. Who was using that Laptop? It was a security Laptop and only the owner should manipulate it because it was equipped with special confidential features, used to encrypt data before sending it to Brussels headquarters. The French deputy could have given the access codes to a colleague and he probably did, despite the fact that this was forbidden and a serious violation of the EU security rules.But that behaviour happened all the time. However Patrick Doom doubted that a delegate would ignore that connecting that particularly Laptop on any network was prohibited! There was only one conclusion left: someone took that Laptop without permission of the owner! He had to find out the intruders identity and why he was using the network. He also knew that he had to be extremely carefully and discrete. "Can you see what he's doing?" He asked. "Wait…" Nedim started another tool and checked the logbook of the proxy server (*). "He's sending e-mails. I'll check the destination IP address, wait…". Nedim followed the fast written lines on the screen report, noted an IP address and started another WHOIS utility in order to find out the domain corresponding to the found address. "He's using a Yahoo email address." He explained. "It means we can trace that address, but anyway the result will be worthless. Nedim, can you go to the seventh floor, walk through the corridor and try to find out if there's someone in the deputy's office. But take care and do not enter. If you're spotted say that you're looking after me." "OK. A pity we didn't install remote administration control on that Laptop…" Nedim replied. They didn't do it because it was a station considered "Confidential", the reason why it should never be connected to ANY network. "I'm leaving my office now. I'll call you back" Nedim closed all open applications on the different servers and left his office, locking the door. He could take the elevator but he preferred the stairs. He wore sport shoes with soft soles, allowing moving noiseless. He had just three floors to go, but arriving on the fifth, he heard how a door got closed on the seventh. Footsteps moved towards the elevator. Nedim took three steps at once trying to reach the seventh floor before the unknown person could disappear in the elevators cage. He didn't make any noise. He heard a buzzing. The lift was coming up. He reached the sixth floor, trying to muffle his breathing. He continued taking three stairs and took carefully the last bent, carefully moving up the few stairs left leading to the floor. He stopped when his head reached the floor level and he heard the lift arriving. The electrical gong announced that the doors would be opened. Nedim looked between the iron banisters and could just in time catch a glimpse of a short stocky man disappearing in the cage. It was enough to recognise him but he couldn't believe it. However that had to be the man he's looking after. The elevator went down again. Nedim took the last stairs and looked around. He was standing in the staircase hall of the seventh floor, the centre room and starting point of three corridors forming a Y. He decided to check the corridor as fast as possible. He entered the middle passage, the only one belonging to the planning team and ran silently from door to door, checking the small window above every office entrance. Nowhere he could detect any light betraying a late worker. He stopped in front of the deputy's office. There's no noise and he tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. He went back to the staircase hall and called the lift which came immediately. He went to the 4th floor, back to his office and started a scanner session, checking if there were any users connected. None. So the man he had viewed was the intruder. He took his GSM and called his chief. "Yes, it's me" Doom was waiting and eager to know what his engineer had found out. "Do you know who the intruder was?" he asked. "Yes, I do, but you'll not believe it…" "Tell me…" And Nedim told him. |
| Another face of some European Union instances.. Sarajevo, 22 Nov 2002 is a date Paul Damm will never forget. On that day he has been forced to start a one-sided fight against suffered injustice caused by some vile individuals. Those powerful enemies were well protected by an institution which probably will never admit the failures made by its high ranking officials. That dark day, he became a victim of a lousy conspiracy while he was working for the European Union Police Mission's planning team. He did not suffer physical damage but the 'act of cowardice attack' against him resulted nevertheless in the destruction of a perfect career and life. Without bothering about his good reputation, just to satisfy proper conviction of guilt or for own profits, without having any proof, those mentioned narrow minded characters set up a "conspiracy theory". Paul Damm's social behavior appeared to fit with the stereotype picture of a criminal, so he had to be guilty and he had to be released of his functions. It's more likely that the reasons were related to his function and not to his presumed bad attitude! It happened six month's after they had persuaded him to leave the European Union Monitoring Mission and to work for the EU Police Mission where he should resolve their huge IT problems. In a few months, the EUPM would take over from IPTF and it had to be fully operational, but nothing was done yet and they were behind the time schedule. Once Damm had finished the administrative procedure and ordered the equipment, his presence was not indispensable any more. They had understood the importance of his function and now they wanted recover it. First they accused him of criminal behavior, involvement in human traffic, but an ignorant Legal Adviser, Janus Panaaien, who did not realize yet that he just acted as their "puppet on a string" , probably told them that the presumptions could not be proved and may lead to a public affair in the courtroom. They reluctantly changed those accusations, replacing them by a more general term : ‘misconduct' whatever that could be. This magic word appeared in Damm's contract and was considered as a possible reason for immediate dismissal. On the 22nd November, a French puppet being also the Commissioner's deputy, forced Damm to sign his dismissal without any preliminary investigation. The EUPM administration did not allow him to defend himself. Neither the Commissioner nor the deputy Head Of Mission accepted to give him a hearing. Nobody wanted to listen to his arguments or explanation. On the next day, he claimed his innocence in a letter he sent to the Head Of Mission. With a lot of arrogance the latter only confirmed his previous decision, referring to some obscure reported rumors. The Commissioner mentioned incriminating reports, but that so called evidence always remained invisible and has never been revealed. Who could have believed that a man known as a good police officer would destroy one of his employees without any inquiry. Whether he was not that good or he belonged to the conspirators and the presumed criminal case was nothing else but a political decision, Colleagues and friends advised Damm to stay quiet, because "nothing would ever change", they said. Those hypocrites were just afraid that he could reveal their own private activities which would certainly have endangered their careers. Paul Damm left the mission ten days later, but he started immediately his own investigation campaign, assisted by international and local friends. The accusers were not invisible and they were not angels as well. On the other hand, Damm knew he was clean and innocent, however he couldn't guess that the worse still had to come... Paul Damm accused the Police Mission for abuse of power and conspiracy. He sent an official complaint to the European Union Ombudsman who investigated the case more deeply. In the beginning, everything was done to convince him that he could not get satisfaction. Until the ombudsman was replaced. The new one reopened the file and promised to study the case more deeply. Maybe because Damm published his case openly on the INTERNET, revealing names and facts. After more than two years, Paul Damm has been officially rehabilitated and the police mission has been ordered to pay Damm's indemnities. This real story surpasses the phantasm of many novelists. To be wrongly accused is hard to live with but it is even worse to discover that in the third millennium, you are still living in a society where individuals may be harassed whether by chiefs or colleagues. A few members of the police missions planning team, for personal or political reasons, have secretly organized a Machiavellian machination. They were from the British nationality, exercising different functions. The first was a frustrated woman from Internal affairs, who probably saw the opportunity to get publicity with this case. Perfect start in a new job. Another bi-sexual woman, former major in the Army, was working in the human resources, dealing with local employees. She just wanted revenge. The political advisor had the same motive and he was seconded by a reserve colonel belonging to MI 5, according to many rumors. While those conspirators stayed in the background, the French deputy signed the dismissal. Lieutenant-colonel in the French gendarmerie since 1993 he got in command of the Mitrovica UNMIK police. However, after the February 2000 riots in Mitrovica, Bernhard Kouchner replaced him and he moved out to the headquarters in Pristina. Amazingly, the EUPM commissioner was at that time UNMIK Police Commissioner in Kosovo and his superior. Those events reveal commanding weaknesses and the French commander confirmed that once again in Paul Damm's case. He forgot that police officers are not judges but researchers of facts! They collect evidence before incriminating a suspect. The EUPM-deputy condemned Damm without facts and that's a transgression of the law, misuse of authority. But this is not only Paul Damm's story, but also an account about the destiny of local people, documented with revelations about human traffic, including so called efforts of high ranking EU police officers fighting the local criminality but who are visitors of the nightclubs they're supposed to close. It's also the fate of a duped young woman, Mina Mosanu, who left her family in order to work in a rich European country but who very quickly found out that miracles don't exist! Not only she became the victim of a well organized human traffic but she met also misleading international human aid workers and institutions, who used the human traffic and the heartbreaking witness reports for own purposes: their existence in the country. I've got proof that many victims, after they gave their testimony, found out that those helpful investigators could nothing do to help them escaping the disgraceful environment! In most cases, they were sent back to forced prostitution, without any protection! Some were beaten up or disappeared. But who cares about the destiny of those young girls, those willy-nilly prostitutes? They are numbers or first names in reports and statistics, proving the necessity of human aid and funds. Paul Damm and Mina Mosanu found out that the presence of International Humanitarian Organizations has less to do with humanity and compassion. Many of them are more sensible of the salary than the misery they should fight. It rarely happens that poor war victims get support they need to rebuild their life. Most Aid is related to political objectives and the visibility through the media. Although, Damm's and Mosanu's experiences are the foundation of this novel, I developed the conspiracy theory in order to give my opinion about some mysteries. What do you think about the close relationship of British Officials with Bosnian Serbs politicians ? What do you think about the relationship of British officials with Pale officials? Why can the International community not find Karadzic? Why had Paul Damm to be dismissed? What would you say about some strange killings of local police officers who collaborated with the EU? All those questions will be part of this political thriller, based on a true story but nevertheless a fiction. Or Not? Petar Molic |
| I finally started writing those words which would hurt. Nevertheless, I thought I had to write them. It was a way to release all my bottled up anger, a way to express my gratitude for a good man I was missing so much: my father. My name is Peter Dax. I'm retired, being oldest of four brothers. A few months ago, I lost my father, but the circumstances of his dead still seemed suspicious and strange to me. My family always took my main consideration, until the sudden dead of my father, until I observed questionable events during my father's last days on earth, during and after his funeral. I started writing. "Mother, the last few months have been extremely painful for all of us! At least that is what I would like to believe. After reviewing some happenings during fathers last weeks in the hospital, during and after his funeral, I got a bitter taste in my mouth. Especially your reaction a few days ago has been the last drop which made the cup run over, pushing me into writing these words in order to clarify a few things." I stopped writing. Once again I consulted my conscience. However, after a careful consideration, I resumed the hard task I had imposed to myself. "...Only a few weeks after my aunts funeral, I found my father in the hospital, being in a comatose condition, accentuated by a clearly deterioration of physical strength which affected me deeply. However, the behavior of some relatives did shock me even more!" I made a pause, lost in painful memories. I'm living three hundred kilometers apart of my family, consisted of my parents and three brothers, all living in a circle of twenty kilometers. Six month's ago, my aunt died. She was father's sister and his last remaining family member. Just before the funeral, I met my father at home and I ignored that it would be the last time I would see him there. Despite his age of eighty-six, he still radiated good health and vitality. However, a few months later I was called to the hospital. My life changed when I entered that small room in the intensive care ward where I met a completely different looking man. I could hardly believe my eyes, spotting a thin emaciated skeleton stretched out on blank sheets. My eyes focused on the skull, barely covered with a thin transparent skin, bent backward, the eyes closed. A toothless mouth gaped widen open and two plastic pipes disappeared in the nose. A drain was fixed on a needle in his arm while another connected to a drip which hung on a metallic L-formed stand. Electrical wires fixed on the breast with band-aid went up to a cardiograph beeping all the time on the rhyme of his heartbeat, its frequency much too high. I was afraid to approach the bed, afraid to find out more horrible things. My wife stayed discretely behind me while my sister in law, Catherine, my youngest brother's wife already had taken place on the right edge of the iron bed. I reluctantly made the last steps toward that small bundle of misery who indeed was my father! I'm not a sentimental and I rarely show my feelings, but this time I could not withhold my tears, uncontrollable running down my cheeks. When I carefully touched the left arm lying beside a limp body, so fragile, so thin, I felt overwhelmed by unexplainable feelings making me nearly ill. My mother had told me previously that my father had felt out the bed, in the middle of the very first night in the hospital. Indeed, impossible to oversee the dark blue marks along the naked arm. Carefully, I rolled the bony body upward in order to inspect its back and I discovered a large dark blue area, completely covering the left side. I also inspected his head and was not surprised to discover a big bump on the backside. In the meanwhile, Catherine was reporting the accident but I was not really listening because growing anger was overrunning the previous feelings of pain and sadness bubbling deep inside me. My father was in a good shape when he entered that hospital. Not ill! He just needed a check-up. "Recharging his batteries", as the doctor called it. No need for staying a long period, only for a few days. Now, he was in a coma. How could that happen so abruptly, without any signs of forewarning? Strange, even the doctors did not produce a credible diagnosis. However, the day he entered the hospital, he felt healthy enough to quarrel with the nurses. Being in a bad mood, he had loudly insisted to return at home! He was much alive and very active! At some time in the middle of the night, he must have dropped out the bed and remained unconsciousness on the floor for hours. They found him during a routine night round. Incomprehensibly, but according to the doctors, despite of the bruises, despite of the huge bump indicating a heavy fall, the incident did not cause his actual condition. Bullshit. I will never believe that. In addition, lovely Catherine aroused more surprises. According to her, nobody knew about that bump! She discovered it at the moment I did! Imagine, during days they were all holding father's hand, but nobody had found necessary to examine that limp body. They never asked why he lapsed into coma. Why did they not take pictures of the suffered injuries? My mother, three brothers and Catherine did not do anything about it. I started trembling of growing anger. I proceeded with the writing, using words I never used before, dictated by helpless anger. "...Finding back my father in a critical shape is one thing, but finding out that his whole body is covered with bruises did not only shock me deeply but made me also furious. His physical condition was not due to dehydration but was probably caused by the fall. How is it possible that everybody overlooked that bump? Why did the doctors not tell? How is it possible that nobody asked additional examination? Did you really accept that incoherent explanation given by the medical staff? Did you not think one moment that they never would admit that the coma could indeed be the result of the accident? They were afraid of the trouble you could have made! Why did they do finally the examination anyway, but ONE week later? No, father has simply been "written off" by his relatives. In fact, during my first visit I got already the impression that his decease would be a relief for all family members. I will never forget Catherine's dared suggestion to 'put him out of misery' by giving him an injection. How heartbreaking and how human!" I took another break. My heart was beating fast and my fingers were crushing the pen. I lost myself in memories again, seeing every scene in mind. Catherine interfered in the family affairs while my brothers remained passive. Probably they were afraid to get involved, fearing that mother could ask them for some help. I always had estimated Catherine as a nice lovely person, chatty by nature but sympathetic. Even there, after leaving the hospital, driving back to the parent's home, I felt happy for mother that she could reckon on her support. However, during that short trip, she continued talking, explaining her honorable involvement. I barely heard her! I still felt uncomfortable about the suggestion she had pronounced in the hospital, across my father's bed! Now, she was telling us that "she" alone was dealing with the medical staff and I heard vaguely that the doctors would not do any effort to revive my father should he ever encounter any heart problem. She was also complaining about her stressful daily trips to the hospital. Finally, only half an hour later in my parent's house, she pronounced the words, which changed my mind about her. I was discussing with my mother, trying to find out more details about fathers accident. I criticized the doctor's behavior and I blamed my family's passivity. I advised my mother to assure her economies, that she should take her savings from the bank, because in case of an eventually decease all her accounts would be frozen. I also advised her to give my single brother the ownership of the house because he still lived with my parents. Unexpectedly, Catherine reacted virulent: "Why should HE get the house?" It was not a simple question, but a reprimand. Her mask had dropped and I discovered suddenly her real ugly nature. The greed betrayed her. On that very short moment, she understood her failure! "...What I heard through Catherine's mouth was so awful. You know that I liked her and that she always has been my preferred sister in law! How could you give her the authority to deal with the medical staff? Doctors do not have to decide about life or dead. The decision whether or not to revive a patient is a family decision, so I guess that everybody at home had previously agreed with the doctor's plan? I WOULD NOT! Why did you not ask our opinion? I observed that Catherine got in charge of everything and I witnessed how she gave you orders! You have ignored my advice at the time you still could freely act but actually you are trapped. Did you ignore Catherine's unacceptable reaction or did you not? Nevertheless, you were all wrong! Father was much stronger than you believed he was and he came back to the living and would soon return at home!" I smiled satisfied while writing those words. I wanted to hit somebody. Yes, they obviously had condemned father, being sure he would soon expire. However, he had not been ready for death! When mother phoned me to announce that father regained consciousness, I felt released and happy. Two days later, my wife and I visited him in the hospital and we took mother with us. What a difference. My father was not jumping around nor was he dancing, but he was alive and he recognized us immediately. Good sign, he was joking with the nurses! He was still weak, normal after two weeks of intravenous food absorption through plastic tubes. However, he survived the crisis and I instantly forgot all my previous dark ideas. On that moment, I even forgave Catherine and my brother's passive behavior. We discussed and I could not guess that it would be the very last time we did so! He was fine, motivated to get strong enough and eager to get back home. He still needed some help for eating, but at least he was willing to recover. We stayed one hour, during which he stepped out the bed to take a seat on the couch. When he later returned to bed and started looking television, we have left that room, plenty of hope. I promised myself to spend more time with my parents. Life is so short but everything would be fine now. When we arrived at mother's house, we drank some cup of cafe and returned at home, ignoring mother's incredible plan. During the trip, my wife and I discussed father's condition and we agreed that we would take care of him if needed. A few days later, I received a phone call from mother who announced me that father would not come back at home. She would put him in an "old people's home"! Did I hear right? I felt sick. How could she do that? She had even told me before that his health was improving. Nevertheless, together with Catherine she was already executing the plan and they had visited the home where they reserved father's room. I suddenly realized that Catherine has become the main player in this drama. I continued writing down my frustrations. "...How is it possible? First, you are condemning father and when he comes back, which is already a small miracle, you decide to expel him! You planned everything with Catherine I guess. It's a shame. Father worked 14 hours a day. Retired, he went out shopping by bicycle and later by motorcycle, in rain, snow and dust. When I bought my first house, he came over to help me with the renovation works. He was already 75 years old! In any case, you could rely on him, always helpful. You know, he would never have agreed to go to that "old people's home!" What an expression of gratitude you have reserved him! He did not deserve that. He owned a house and he had enough savings, which should have covered all possible nursing costs at home. Anyway, one day he would recover and regain certain independence..." I thought about my hypothesis. Ten days later, during a weekend, I got another call. Father had lost consciousness. How did that happen? His condition was improving, wasn't it? Mother informed me that he suddenly had refused to take any food and the medical staff had put him again on intravenous feeding. Mother promised to inform me whenever he regained consciousness. He died a few days later. Only the close relatives attended the funeral: mother, brothers, and grandchildren. After the ceremonies, the assembly joined the small restaurant in front of the church for a family diner. I observed many disturbing events during those painful moments, but I could not place them at that time. I felt so much affected by losing my father. Only a few days later, I faced the hard reality. The notary office, taking care of mother's inheritance, had sent me a letter. My brothers and I were invited to visit the office in order to sign a kind of renouncing certification, permitting my mother to inherit father's part. When father died, all the common belongings and saving accounts were blocked by law. Signing the paper meant that we would accept to give up our part of father's inheritance, being the half of the common belongings. At the first moment, I did not have any objection. However I could not stop thinking about the circumstances of fathers decease. I was still hesitating when mother called me some days later, asking me if I already had sent a mandate on my brother's name, so he could sign in my place the renouncing documents! When I asked her the value of that part, she refused to answer. On that moment, I remembered what Catherine had revealed in the car after my first visit, when I had taken her back from the hospital. She knew that my parents possessed a comfortable amount of savings. Now it disturbed me that she knew what we ignored, that what mother wanted to remain a secret for her sons. Therefore, I wrote a letter to the notary office, requesting details about the inheritance and our rights. The reply on my request increased my anger. Indeed, the amount of the legacy was about one hundred thousand Euro. I always had presumed that my parents owned modest savings! Mother's statements that she could not afford the costs for father's home nursing, did not stand any more and did not justify father's admission in an "Old people's house",! During his whole life, father had been the only breadwinner! However mother had not allowed him to use his saving to preserve his own health! I suddenly understood Catherine's attitude... I called my mother and blamed her behavior, telling her coldly that the money she so eagerly wanted also had belonged to father...She broke the conversation. I condemned her heartlessness, as father would have condemned her. If he would have known before dying! Perhaps he did? "...I have collected information about home nursing. I can assure you that this would have been even cheaper than sending father to the "Old people's house". You are only looking for cheap excuses in order to release your conscience. Why not admit that you just wanted to get rid of him. He had become a useless charge you did not want around you. You refused to waste the savings for nursing. You probably thought, "Why spent money for someone who is condemned anyway?" Your words "it would have been too expensive." hurt me because it is painful to find out that YOU, his wife, our mother, let him down just for money! The money you actually claim being yours was father's legitimate part. I would not believe it when the facts were not so obvious. You arranged everything with Catherine, didn't you? What right did SHE have to make those decisions about our father? There is even more. I am questioning myself all the time about my father's sudden and unexpected decision to stop eating. Would there not have been a little bird, singing in his ears: 'You're going to an Old people's house'? Catherine visited father every day. Holding his cold hand and talking to him. Her sayings and her involvement in your decision-making, make me believe that she could have been that little bird. Everybody knew that my father in that case would have preferred dying instead of going to that home. That's what he finally did: dying." I went to the refrigerator and took a bottle of beer. My mouth was dry and I was slightly shaking. I knew that I never had pronounced similarly accusations before, because I always had loved and respected my parents. Could I be wrong? There were so many indications, which confirmed that diabolic hypothesis. My thoughts went back to the funeral. I remembered that small group of people sitting behind the coffin, which stood in the middle of a half circle formed by two rows of chairs. The coffin laid on a small-wheeled support. I was sitting on mothers left side, my other brothers on her right and the grandsons behind her in the second row. During the ceremony, I was looking around and I observed all the faces. Some were silently crying, but Catherine was the noisiest of all. On the other hand, my mother's expressionless face made me uncomfortable. There were no spilled tears for the man with whom she had shared her life for more than fifty years. Another event also disturbed me. Almost at the end of the celebration, the priest started summarizing my father's exemplary life, insisting that the only sunshine in his old days had been his youngest grandchild, Melissa, Catherine's daughter. He had loved her so much. No words lost for the other grandchildren. I was surprised. There were six grandchildren and I know that father had loved them all. My eyes caught my other sister in law's look. We both understood. She had three and I had two children, while father was also my daughter's godfather. The priest could not have been aware of the family matters so Catherine probably had arranged that special act during the religious celebration. The priest has called Melissa to join him in order to light a candle and to read aloud a poem. After the ceremony, he gave her a smaller candle to take it home as a souvenir. A beautiful, touching scene! A well directed scene using her innocent child as the main actor. Outside the church, all relatives were obviously in a hurry, crossing immediately the street, walking to the restaurant while the undertakers' men put the coffin into the hearse. The car drove away but who saw that? My wife, daughter, son and I were looking for a last time toward the disappearing car with the remains of a good man. In days later, we would have our last meeting with his mortal remains into the crematorium. During the meal, Catherine made a last remark, for ever burned in memory: "It was time that everything was over..." I am not a paranoiac individual. However, there were so many disturbing events happening around my fathers dead that I honestly believed that he could still be alive... "...I'm convinced that Catherine is not that lovely person you think she is. I think she's a calculating bitch, using her daughter as bait, playing with your feelings. The disgusting "Spielberg performance" in the church was deliberately directed and a slap in the face of all other grandchildren. She's probably thinking that she should be rewarded handsomely. I'm convinced that father loved all his grandchildren equally and he would never have agreed that piece of theater we all have witnessed. She told us that she needed a new car, but she hadn't the money. The puzzle is getting complete. Pieces are falling together. It would not be surprise if she informed father about his final destination. She knew about your financial situation. She got immediately involved when father entered hospital and she appointed herself as the family representative. She dealt with the medical staff and took own decisions. She was regularly alone with father, days before he stopped eating and she knew I would inform him once when he would have been in that home. She claimed that he had to go to the "old people's house" and when I hear your arguments, I am hearing the echo of her voice. You have said that you paid her gasoline for the daily trips, but she was not ashamed to tell us that those daily trips were stressful and expensive. That remembers me a similar event, six years ago, when I was on mission abroad, in Albania during the Kosovo war. One day you called and informed me that father was admitted into the hospital. I took immediately the plane. Fortunately for father, because I found out that he was nearly dying while nobody was doing something to prevent it. He did not eat but nobody cared. He was condemned. You remember,I have phoned the house doctor and I have threatened him after which he agreed to assure that the medical staff would seriously take care of him. Once over eighty, do you not deserve an adequate medical care any more? Father has finally recovered! Your phone call shortly after father's funeral was only to check whether or not I had sent back the renouncing papers for the inheritance. In normal circumstances I would have done it. However, actually I will propose another deal. I will not renounce and I will advise my brothers to do the same. I consider that father's part could have extended his life if you would have behaved otherwise instead of keeping the savings intact for yourself or for whatever you may have yet planned. During father's agony in the hospital, you told me that family affairs were not mines. This time they are! I think honestly that my behavior would have my father's blessing. I also propose to give my brother Julian ma part of the house, because he is the only one who does not have any property, staying with you all the time. Therefore, he deserves it. " I signed and put down the pencil. I did not have the courage to read my own words. I needed a break. What was I doing? I took another beer, sat down and went through the text again, the worst phrases I ever wrote during my whole life. However, the anger pushed me to go on with this. She was my mother, but what has she done to my father? What could I have done? All my advises and complains had encountered only opposition and I was living too far away in order to have seen in time what really was going on. Am I just looking for excuses? Was there nothing more what I could have done? Perhaps if I would have written this letter earlier, when father was still alive, perhaps it could have extended his life. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps! I will never now the answer, but this time I would not hesitate. The next morning I posted my letter and I lost the rest of my family. |
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