‘Who are the major players?’ Oxana asks.
‘The kingpins are the N’Drangheta.’
‘From Italy?’
‘Yes, from Calabria, in the south. The N’Drangheta’s a highly close-knit organisation, based exclusively on blood relationships. There are no outsiders; all members come from the same handful of impoverished towns, and the same hundred or so families. As a result it’s impenetrable, and it’s grown to be one of the most feared criminal organisations in the world.
‘Then there are the Albanian drug gangs, again operating worldwide, there’s the Turkish mafia, the Sicilians, the Bulgarians… the list goes on. They’ve all seen which way the wind is blowing and are trimming their sails accordingly.’
‘What’s that mean, exactly?’
‘It means that they’re changing tack. Heroin was profitable, as long as there was a good supply of it, but that’s no longer the case. The European gangs are moving to synthetic opioids, and specifically fentanyl. Fentanyl was originally manufactured as an analgesic, for the treatment of severe pain. It’s incredibly strong – between thirty and fifty times as potent as heroin – and irresistibly addictive.’
‘Wow,’ Oxana murmurs.
‘That’s what the gangs thought. And why wouldn’t they? Fentanyl’s so much cheaper and easier to manufacture than heroin. There are no poppies to be cultivated, no Afghan warlords to deal with…’
‘So where do we come in?’ Eve asks.
Johnny looks at her for a moment, carefully places his whisky tumbler on the table, and steeples his fingers. ‘This job is dangerous,’ he says quietly. ‘It will be well rewarded, and it can certainly be done, but it is very dangerous. I want to make that clear straight away.’
Eve feels sick. Her throat is dry and her heart fluttery. ‘Go on,’ she says.
‘The Twelve have learnt that three major criminal organisations – the N’Drangheta, and the Turkish and Albanian mafias – are considering joining forces. Rather than competing on the manufacture, distribution and smuggling of drugs they’re exploring the possibility of collaboration and profit sharing.’
‘Would such an alliance hold?’ Eve asks, not quite trusting her voice.
‘Maybe,’ Johnny says. ‘Maybe not. The Twelve don’t want it to get to that stage. A partnership of that kind, sharing billions of dollars in potential profit annually, would be a potentially unstoppable force. The Twelve want an independent Europe, not one under the thumb of organised crime.’
‘So what’s their plan?’ Oxana asks.
‘They’ve been approached by a young man named Emir Yilmaz. Emir’s father, Tahir Yilmaz, is the head of the Turkish mafia, and according to Emir, the N’Drangheta have organised a three-way meeting on a Greek island to discuss a proposed joint venture between themselves, the Turks, and the Albanians. Tahir, the father, very much wants this three-way alliance to go ahead. He sees it as a chance for his organisation to expend. Emir, on the other hand, emphatically doesn’t.’
Eve frowns. ‘Does Emir have any say in the matter?’
‘Officially no. But he’s his father’s son, and although he’s still only nineteen, he’s extremely smart, and quite possibly has a better grasp of the realpolitik of the situation than Tahir.’
Eve nods slowly. ‘So Emir knows that his father’s a mafia boss?’
‘Yes. He’s a student at an elite management school at Fontainebleau in Paris, and when he approached the Twelve he made it clear that he’s being groomed to take over from Tahir, and that he knows his father’s business inside out.’ Johnny sips his drink carefully. ‘The fact is that both the Twelve and the Turkish mafia stand to lose from the proposed alliance. The Twelve because the alliance would be so powerful, and the Turks because they’d quickly be forced into the position of junior partner.’
‘And Tahir doesn’t realise this?’ Oxana asks.
‘Tahir, according to Emir, considers himself a man of honour, and assumes that the Albanian and N’Drangheta bosses are the same. He thinks that if he enters into an agreement with them, they will stand by their word.’
Oxana smiles faintly. ‘But Emir is under no such illusion?’
‘Absolutely not. He sees this meeting as an opportunity. Not to join hands with his father’s rivals, but to send them a deadly message.’
Eve narrows her eyes. ‘How, exactly?’
‘By killing the other bosses at the meeting and destroying any chance of an alliance.’
‘So Emir wants to force his father’s hand?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Is that a good idea? Wouldn’t killing the other bosses start a gang war?’