720 Heartbeats

- 1 -

Fourteen minutes. Fourteen fucking minutes to go and there is nothing I can do. And God knows I tried, I really did. I did everything in my power to prevent it. I feel so small. Insignificant. A speck of dust in this vast mysterious Universe. I am going to lose the love of my life, and I am just sitting here, downing a bottle of Jameson, trying to keep my tears from flowing. I am about to end my pathetic life with my service Glock. I can not and do not want to live without her.

Twelve minutes to go. Seven hundred and twenty heartbeats. I will have to make the most of them. But will this change anything? No. Life is not a fairy-tale. There are no happy endings. That is just some bullshit that the movie industry tries to sell us. An illusion of reality. All stories end in tears. I would like to crack open the skull of the jackass who said that every new beginning is disguised as a painful ending, and eat his fucking pea-sized brain. Ten minutes. One hundred breaths.

I took my Swiss Army knife from the suitcase, opened up the blade and tested its tip with my finger. I placed my left hand on the table and shoved the knife through it, using my right hand. No hesitation, whatsoever. The small knife dug itself into the wood. There was hardly any blood. No pain. As I was looking at the red handle of the blade that had pierced my palm, I felt a tingling sensation in my index finger.

- 2 -

Monday morning. Five-fifteen. I drove past the bakery and saw Kemal loading fresh buns into a white van with a large orange and black sign on its side. Every time I saw him I remembered the night his first son, Kerim, was born, about three years ago. We got completely wasted, but nobody expected us to break into a basketball arena, strip naked and play a game of five on five. It was not about winning it, it was about having a great time. Well, at least until Speedy hit the floor and nearly tore his dick off. His wife Sandra was not pleased with the total lack of interest nor the performance in bed over the next three weeks. Nevertheless, the night was unforgettable. It was one of those nights that buries itself deep inside your cerebral cortex and remains there forever. A night of true happiness. A moment that you want to freeze and preserve for eternity.

I parked in front of the headquarters, turned off the engine, waited for the song on the radio to end and slowly stepped out of the car. Boris was standing outside the building with two cups of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He waved in my direction and then continued talking to Tina. She truly was one of a kind. She decided to become a detective at the age of twenty-three. Until then she had worked in a strip club, where she had a single rule – never sleep with a client. The local Casanova once decided it would be fun to shove a finger up her pussy. She broke his hand in three places. She knew how to take care of herself better than most men and that was something I really admired about her. Seeing as I have never been to her club, I was not subjected to her rule and this led to a couple of wonderful weeks just before I met Sara.

Good morning, Rok, she greeted me with her soft voice.

Boris merely nodded and pushed the cup of coffee into my hand.

It’s fucking freezing today. It doesn’t feel like spring, does it? I murmured.

Over the past few days the temperatures had plummeted by more than ten degrees and even though it was almost the end of March, we had to take our warm winter clothes back out from the closets. Tina looked at me with her deep blue eyes and smiled. She still regretted our story ending. It was written all over her face every time we bumped into each other. Of course this happened almost every day. However, she never gave me the desperate 'why are you with her and not me' look. It was an honest, pleasant, tender look. I liked her, but everything changed the moment Sara stepped into my life. She was the one I had been waiting for. I knew she was special the very first time I laid eyes on her. I could feel her on a different level. It felt as if we had known each other for centuries.

What the fuck are you dreaming about now? mumbled Boris. Let’s get to work. Horvat wants us to solve the bloody Fire Dawn case today. I need you to remain focused, do you understand?! I took a bullet for you once, and I don't want to save your sorry ass again today.

I smiled.

Don't worry you stupid old fart. Today is our day.

Tina remained silent, but her deep blue eyes spoke volumes.

- 3 -

Man, I’m going ballistic. Milena hasn't put out for nine straight days in a row. She says I only pay attention to her when my dick is in her mouth. Can you imagine?! That I don’t take notice. Apparently, I never tell her that I love her. Can you fucking believe it?

I was gazing through the window, watching children play in the park nearby. A little boy in a bright red parka was chasing two girls who were trying to run away, screaming at the top of their lungs. I remembered how carefree we used to be when we were kids. We would not have known a problem if it sneaked up to us and bit us in the face. No expectations and no disappointments. We merely lived pure lives. Unspoiled by the past and with no cares about the future.

Yesterday I wanted to call Barbara, take her out for dinner and then fuck her on the backseat of my Volvo. I’m serious, I no longer give a fuck. Women are holding us by the balls and I don't want to take it anymore. Hey, are you listening to me?!

I looked at him and nodded.

No matter what you do, women will always have the last word. There’s nothing you can do about it. Yes, they’re holding us by the balls, but we love them for it, I explained.

What the fuck? Have you switched sides or something? Man up and tell me what you think. What you really think. This is no laughing matter, Rok.

When something stuck in Boris’s head there was no way you could persuade him to look at it from a different angle.

Listen, I’m not taking sides here. I’m only telling you how I see it. The moment you fall in love with a woman, the moment you give her your heart, your fate is sealed. From that moment on, she’s the one pulling all the strings in your life. She becomes the puppeteer. The real question is why we allow ourselves to be led. Whether we admit it or not, we seem to like it. Do you remember the photograph of a little boy looking down a little girl's panties? She’s saying: ‘I will use this to control your life’. Well, that's how it is. You better accept it.

Boris was silently staring through the windscreen. But he did not stay silent for long.

I’m sure Sara and you don’t have these problems. I advise you to never get married. You’re doomed the moment you put a ring on her finger. It’s the end, the abso-fucking-lute end. Your fate is sealed. You become a toy in her hands. Screw a life like that!

I nudged him with my elbow. I think it’s started.

Kolya was a well-known dealer. We had been pursuing him for quite a while, but he always managed to slip through our net somehow. We had arrested him twice, but never managed to pin anything on him. He was a clever little bastard. He had connections everywhere, even in our department. But Kolya was a small-time crook. We were not really interested in him. We were only going after him because we thought he might lead us to Walter. He was our real target. He was also impossible to find. The man was an enigma, a ghost that moved undetected in the belly of society. We did not have a single photograph of him or an address. In fact, we had absolutely nothing on him. The only thing we knew was that he was forty years old, give or take a few summers. He had constructed a sound hierarchal system so that no one he did not trust with his life could reach him directly. In fact, only two people could: Zoran, also known as The Accountant, and Brane, also known as Scout. Kolya was second in line, taking instructions directly from The Accountant. He was in charge of the cocaine route between Trieste and central Slovenia, but as he was not a dealer, he never had any drugs on him. The small dealers never got drugs directly from him, but through intermediaries, called ‘carts’. Kolya handled sixty kilograms of Columbian cocaine each month. He took ten percent of the money, which meant he earned approximately two hundred thousand euros a month. He has wasted three-quarters of his money on classy hookers, expensive champagne and luxury cars. I know it sounds like a stereotype, but that is how things are in life.

Look at that dickhead. He’s going in, hollered Boris.

The plan was simple. Kolya has arranged a meeting with Mehmed Zarifović, aka The Blacksmith. They were planning a new drug route through Rijeka. They were discussing Violet Storm, a new synthetic drug that amplified the synaptic transmissions in the brain by three hundred percent. It had a very short lasting effect, only about fifteen minutes, but the demand was enormous, regardless of its price, making it inaccessible to mere mortals. The cost? Five hundred euros per pill.

Two minutes to intervention, said chief inspector Horvat over the radio.

I took my gun, unlocked its safety catch and returned it to its holster.

Rock ‘n’ roll, I said, my heart beating madly like it always did before we jumped into action.

Man, my balls are so blue, I can hardly sit down, croaked Boris.

How can he possibly be thinking about his balls at a moment like this, I thought.

* * *

Everybody hit the floor! I yelled, waving my gun from side to side. I knew Kolya was unarmed, but he was always surrounded by three armed bodyguards. I jumped on the first one. As he took a swing at me, I ducked and punched him in his solar plexus. As he was trying to catch his breath, I swiftly moved behind his back and kicked him in the back of the knee. As he keeled over, I grabbed him by the neck and held him in a chokehold until he fainted.

Don’t do anything stupid, yelled Boris while pressing the second bodyguard against the floor, trying to disarm him with his free hand.

You fucking police cunts, a man can't even enjoy his lunch in peace! yelled Kolya as Horvat pushed his knee into his ribs.

I’ll sue you for police brutality, you fucking pigs!

I looked around the place. Everything was under control. The operation was a success. Kolya will not get away this time. We managed to do what we set out to do and at the end of the day, that is what matters. Day after day. Successes and failures.

* * *

Rok, do you want to grab a beer later on? Tina asked.

It would be my pleasure, I replied. But Sara’s making lasagne today and you know how much I love lasagne.

I smiled. She still had a crush on me, silly thing. After our fling, she started dating a retired football player. Their relationship did not last long though. She found him in bed with her mother. The guy survived with his bones intact, but apparently Tina was so hard on him that he crawled out of the house like a castrated dog. I suspect that she still has his balls, somewhere around the house, in a jar of formaldehyde.

I have an idea! Let’s go out and shoot some pool tomorrow night. You know, play a few rounds, chug a few beers and talk about the good old days. What do you say?

Tina nodded revealing her cute, asymmetrical white teeth.

Fantastic, I said, as I signed the report and tucked it into a yellow folder.

See you in the morning. Sleep tight.

You too, Rok. Give my regards to Sara.

I was driving home, listening to a Big Foot Mama song on the radio. I