Blood Diamonds Tallinn Chapter 2

Shadows in the Fairy Tale

The van rattled over cobblestones, and Emma’s stomach flipped with every jolt. Tallinn unfolded like a storybook come alive—pastel wooden houses huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, their gingerbread trim painted in faded blues and yellows. Chimneys puffed lazy smoke into the pearl-gray sky, and the air carried hints of woodsmoke and fresh bread. Kalamaja, Liina had called it. “Our bohemian heart,” she’d typed in countless messages. Now, it washed over Emma like balm, dulling the edge of her airport jitters.

Joonas parallel-parked on a narrow street lined with quirky cafes. “Food first,” Liina declared, hopping out. “You must try our black bread and sprats. Real Estonian soul food!”

Emma hesitated, eyes flicking to the boys. Karl smirked, pocketing his phone, while Miko flicked his lighter again. But Liina’s grin pulled her forward, infectious and sisterly. They’re just edgy locals, she told herself. Like Brooklyn punks. Relax.

They piled into a hole-in-the-wall spot called Plektrum, its walls plastered with vinyl records and graffiti art. The place thrummed with locals—tattooed artists nursing beers, families digging into platters. Liina ordered in rapid Estonian, plates arriving fast: dense rye bread slick with butter, smoked sprats on rye crackers, pickled beets that burst with tang, and bowls of kama—a gritty porridge swirled with yogurt and berries. “Not fancy like New York pizza,” Liina teased, “but it’ll stick to your ribs.”

Emma bit into a sprat-topped cracker. Salty, smoky perfection. “This is amazing.” The warmth spread, chasing away the flight’s chill. Joonas cracked lame jokes in broken English—”Why Estonian cold? Because even fridge jealous!”—drawing reluctant laughs. Karl ate silently but offered her extra bread, his glassy eyes softening. Miko chattered about his “music,” flicking beats on his phone. Harmless, Emma thought, as the group’s energy shifted to easy camaraderie. Her fear from the airport faded like morning fog.

Bellies full, Liina dragged her out. “Tour time! Kalamaja is magic.” The boys trailed, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. Sun peeked through clouds, gilding the streets. They wandered Põhja pst—North Street—past century-old wooden houses restored into vibrant galleries. Street art exploded on every wall: murals of mythical beasts, Soviet-era ghosts, a giant fox eyeing passersby. “See? We Estonians love our folklore,” Liina said, snapping selfies. “Lauma the witch, wolves in the woods. Keeps life spicy.”

Emma’s boots crunched leaves as they ducked into a craft market. Stalls brimmed with amber jewelry, hand-knitted scarves, jars of wild honey. Liina haggled fiercely for a woven bracelet, slipping it onto Emma’s wrist. “Sisters’ gift. Protection charm.” Emma’s heart swelled—Liina’s enthusiasm was a whirlwind, pointing out hidden speakeasies, a tiny park with swings shaped like birds. “This is Fikk, our energy plant—oldest in Europe. Powers the city, like our stubborn spirit.”

They climbed to a viewpoint overlooking the Baltic Sea, waves crashing against rocky shores. Gulls wheeled overhead, and freighters dotted the horizon. “From here, you see Russia,” Liina whispered, arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Close, but we fight to stay free.” The boys lounged nearby, sharing the thermos—coffee, Emma hoped—laughing at inside jokes. Joonas even taught her a phrase: “Tere tulemast”—welcome. For the first time since Cheryl’s betrayal, Emma felt anchored. Kalamaja’s quirky charm—the creak of houseboats on the bay, buskers strumming folk tunes—made her impulsive flight feel like destiny.

As the sun dipped, painting the sky in bruised purples and golds, Liina checked her watch. “Home time! My place in Kopli—five minutes. Cozy flat, sauna in the basement. We’ll steam out your jet lag.”

“Lead on, sis.” Emma climbed back into the van, buzzed from the day. The boys piled in, mood rowdier now, passing a bag of dried elk jerky.

The streets narrowed as they left Kalamaja’s glow. Pärnu mnt gave way to industrial fringes—crumbling factories, chain-link fences sagging under graffiti. Then a sign: Kopli. Emma’s gut twisted. The name echoed from Liina’s stories—once a Soviet submarine base, now a gritty peninsula of Soviet blocks and shipyards. The van bumped onto Kopli tänav, road shrinking to a potholed lane flanked by dark warehouses. Streetlights flickered, casting long shadows. No more colorful houses; just concrete husks, boarded windows, the distant clang of metal on metal.

Strange vibes prickled Emma’s skin. A stray dog slunk across the road, eyes glowing in headlights. The air thickened with salt and rust. “Kopli’s… intense,” she murmured.

Liina laughed from the front. “Rough around edges, but real. My hood.”

Fear stirred again, low and insistent, like the airport boys’ stares. The van slowed at a corner—pure black, unbroken by lights. No people, no cars. Just void.

Liina twisted around, face sharpening. She barked in Estonian, voice tough as gravel: “Hülged, me peame täna jahtima. Alustame!”

The boys snapped to attention. “Valmis, ema,” Joonas and Karl chorused, low and eager. Ready, mom?

Emma blinked. Wolves? Hunt? The words hung foreign, but the tone—predatory—cut through.

Van screeched to a halt in the shadows. Doors flew open. Liina, Joonas, and Karl bolted, vanishing into the thick darkness like smoke. Footsteps faded into silence.

Emma sat frozen in the back, heart hammering. Only Miko remained, fidgeting with the wheel. The engine idled, headlights carving weak tunnels into the night.

“What… what’s happening?” she stammered, voice small.

Miko glanced back, smirking. “Hunting.”

“Hunting? Like… animals?” Her mind raced—Estonian wolves? Folklore gone mad?

He shook his head, struggling with English. “No. Jaht. Uh…” He mimed pockets, then a wallet flip. “Rahakott. Turistid.” Tourists. Pickpocketing. His native tongue spilled out—Estonian laced with slang—as he gestured wildly. Emma pieced it together, fragments clicking like puzzle pieces: Väikesed vargused—petty thefts. Looting pood (stores), snatching bags from drunk foreigners in Old Town. Liina plaanib suurt kala täna—Liina plans big catch today.

Emma’s blood ran cold. “They’re… thieves? Pickpockets? Robbing people?”

Miko nodded, oblivious to her horror. “Ja. Liina boss. Smart. Me drive fast. Go-go.” He revved the engine, eyes darting to the dark. “Suurepärane öö. Big score. You watch.”