75: The Scary Money

My phone was ringing as i paid the taxi driver and picked up my bag, It was Mr. Solomon.
I ignored the call and walked to the ticket office of the EuroLines Buses.

“I want a ticket to Amsterdam” I said to the lady sitting behind the counter.

“Are you paying in Euros or Forint?” She asked.

“Euros please.”

She looked on a sheet of paper and said, “That is 75 Euros.”

It was even cheaper than i thought. It meant that Hungary wasn’t that far from Amsterdam. The distance was difficult to calculate while flying with the German Wings Airliner.

As i fumbled in my purse to bring out money to pay for the ticket, my phone started ringing again; this time, it was Basil.

“Excuse me” I said to the lady opposite me and picked the call.

“Solomon said you are not taking his calls” Basil shouted from Amsterdam.

“Why is he calling me?” I asked.

“He wants you to pick up the money” Basil said.

“I dont trust that man at all. He was very scared when i gave him the bag yesterday, and now he claims he has the money already. Why can’t he bring the money to me at the hotel?” I said.

Basil hesitated for a while before he said, “Let me call him back.”

I didn’t pay for the bus ticket, i just told the lady that i would be back and disappeared to a coffee shop near the station.

Two minutes later, Solomon called again. He said he was coming to the hotel immediately to give me the money.
As a result, i fished my coffee and took a cab back to the hotel but rather than going inside, i entered a small bar opposite the hotel and sat near the glass window where i was able to see the front of the hotel.
It didn’t take up to five minutes for Solomon to arrive.
I saw him came out from a cab and walked alone inside the hotel.
I waited for his call and when he did, i told him to wait for me at the reception.

After carefully scanning the area to make sure he wasn’t followed, i crossed the road and walked into the hotel.

“Lets go up” I said as i smiled at Solomon who was standing near the receptionist chatting away with her.

He followed me to my room which was not locked and brought out two bunch of Euro Currencies.

“How much is here?” I asked.

“This is 25000 while this one is 24000 Euros.” he said.

“How did you manage to sell the drugs in one night?” I asked.
I knew it wasn’t my business but i was curious.

“I supplied it and got my money” He simply said and kept quiet.

I called Basil and told him that Solomon gave me 49000 Euros.

“How am i supposed to move with the money?” I asked.

“I don’t know yet. I will get back to you” He said and cut the call.

One thing was already clear to me, i wasn’t going to board the aircraft with such physical cash. The airport scanners were likely to pick up such thing and i would be required to tell the authorities how i got the cash. Things could get to the extent where i would be required to deny and forfeit the money or claim it and go to jail. However, there was no guarantee that i would even get the money after serving for years in the prison.

The first things to learn as a drug dealer was how to survive. The only way to survive with the money intact was to use the Land route. The best would have been the trains since they were faster but i felt that using the night bus would be more secured.
According to the drug movement chart in Europe, people moved drugs from Amsterdam to other countries.
People also moved drugs from Valencia, Barcelona, Sicily and Athens. But the most notorious drug city in Europe was the Amsterdam. If anybody was headed towards Amsterdam from another European city, the security was never too serious.

For some thoughtful reasons, i decided to use the night bus. My major reason was that with Trains, i was likely to change to other trains in cities like Vienna, Munich and Koln before heading to Amsterdam but with the bus, I wont step out of the vehicle if i chose not to.

Basil didn’t call quick enough as he promised and when he called, he suggested that i tie the huge cash separately and put them in my private part.
I wasn’t going to do that and i wasn’t going to argue with him either. I was going to Amsterdam with the money in my bag. If i was discovered and arrested, i would face the consequences.
I felt that the more i put something in my private part, the more it got violated.

I waited until it was 6pm before i took a cab to the Bus Station, then i purchased a one-way ticket to Amsterdam.

As soon as the bus started moving, i switched off my phone. I knew Basil would definitely call me but i intended to scare him out of his skin. He wont be able to reach me again until i knock on his door.

Slowly, the Bus got to the Triangle Border and stopped; it was time for the Austrian Authorities to search and control us. I forgot that going from Hungary into the Schengen Zone was like going to America from Mexico. We were bound to be searched and being a black girl, i was probably going to be singled out.
I prayed silently and waited until the Police climbed into the bus and looked around.
Our eyes met and i watched as one of them walked straight to me and greeted.

“Where are you going?” He said to me.


“To do what?” he continued.

“Visit my boyfriend.” I said.
The standard lie.

“Do you have traveling permit to go to Amsterdam?” he Asked.

Without allowing him to ask me for the documents, i opened my hand bag and brought out the International Passport and the Italian Permit, then i left the bag open as if nothing important was inside.
The money was inside the bag, sealed with a dark nylon bag and stuffed under the make-up kit before i put my spare shoes on top. The shoe was the only visible item the police could see and since the overhead light pointed inside my bag, he had seen everything he needed to see.

He took my documents and walked down from the vehicle. Some minutes later, he returned it. I took the documents from him and searched the pages, it was stamped with the Austrian Immigration seal.

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3 Responses

  1. Whaaaaooooo! Good to have Maria’s story back

  2. miss salome

    Lucky u

  3. Man, Slap: Sounds like a good man. I spent a year sitting with mine in the mnoirng waiting for the bus. He was a Marine in the Pacific, a cop, a stone mason (as a second job), a baseball player (turned down the Cleveland Indians because police work was a better way to support a family .can you imagine) and a good, honorable man. I learned so much (much of it stuff my Dad would’ve preferred I didn’t learn) from him in that brief period. Hmm. I’ve experienced that same thing in the gap between asleep and awake. Thank you.

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