Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) (13 page)

BOOK: Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1)
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He
looked about the room, as a vigilant agent would, checking the crowd for signs
of anarchy. It wouldn’t do for the President to be assassinated now. No, he
wouldn’t allow anyone to mess up his plans - his carefully devised and executed
plans. When satisfied no attempt would be made, he turned and followed the President’s
path through the door. In just a few short hours he would be in St Petersburg
and the countdown would begin.

It
was time for a new government, a new order.

He
had planned everything down to the smallest possible detail and until recently
had gone like clockwork. But he was a man to bounce back on his feet, quickly
recalculating to allow for the unexpected change to his plan in the guise of a
CIA Agent. He had not thought the United States to be so prompt in sending one
of their own to deal with the situation. But he was nothing if not resilient
and had immediately gone about remedying the issue. Luck would have it that the
American was so accommodating. It had been child’s play to brand him a rogue
and set every law enforcement agency in the country on his ass.

He
didn’t like unforeseen problems, in fact prided himself in being able to
anticipate every eventuality. He wasn’t a stupid man and while he was
optimistic, he hadn’t climbed as far as he had without learning the key to
survival. He wasn’t about to be caught and linked to the plot should something
go awry and had ensured a contingency plan. He only hoped he didn’t have to use
it because that meant he had failed and who knew when another opportunity would
fall into their laps.

It
had been a stroke of genius that had him seeking out and securing Michael
Ducane’s services for the job. Nothing could lead back to him or to Yuri
Volstov. It would do no good to have suspicion thrown on the assassinated President’s
successor otherwise all they are doing will be for not.

Ducane
was the perfect scapegoat for the aftermath, already having proved himself as
the culprit of several other political bombings across the globe, what was one
more? The blame would be placed squarely on his shoulders and Ducane would not
be alive to dispute that fact with anyone. He would shoot him dead while
‘trying’ to protect his President. The building though well-guarded had several
entry points and a man in his high position could easily smuggle in a terrorist
and keep the crowd contained whilst appearing to be doing his very best to get
everyone out alive.

Soon
the world will know that the weak will fall and only the strong will survive.
And he was very strong and with his help, so will his country be.

 

Chapter 13

 

The
cold had
settled in for the night getting to a low of minus three and was still
dropping. By morning it would easily be minus five. Snow had stopped falling
and the clouds had locked in the freezing temperature. Still the bitter climate
did not deter everyone from leaving their residences. The nightlife in the neighborhood
of Solntsevskaya was a far cry to that of Tverskaya Street, men lay crumpled on
the ground long since frozen to death, the smell of bodies, sweat, alcohol and
urine was in the frigid air.

Lucas
never let his eyes rest, like the Terminator he scanned everything and everyone
for a weapon. He liked to know when he was about to be involved in a royal fuck
up.

“Stick
close,” he murmured to Elena, watching the condensation come from his mouth. He
had long since lost feeling in his toes and silently cursed the foul weather.
They had spent the entire day at the museum, trying to come up with an
appropriate plan of attack, but missing key bits of information put them at a
disadvantage, that and the fact they had no bargaining chips. They had finally
agreed to see where the night takes them.

Elena
looked about the street they were walking, Russia’s lowest citizens stared straight
at her and she resisted the urge to turn away and go back the way she came.
Solntsevskaya was well known in Russia for being Moscow’s largest mafiya neighborhood.
The Solntsevskaya Bratva – the brotherhood, was one of the most lethal and
feared factions.

“Yes
because I’ll be wandering off any moment now,” she replied dryly.

He
smiled at the sarcasm in her voice, his smile quickly disappearing as he
watched two men with giant guns bulging proudly under their coats approach
them.

The
left one spouted of quick Russian, Lucas felt Elena tense beside him.

“I
don’t think they really want us here,” her voice soft as if she was afraid that
a higher decibel would set them off.

“Even
I caught that. Okay translate for me. I want to speak to your boss. It involves
a shipment of his.”

Elena
frowned. He could clearly see she did not want to be here. Nor did she want to
have to address the man standing in front of her. She most certainly didn’t
want to relay his message which he knew she assumed would royally piss them
off.

Elena
took a deep breath, visibly preparing herself for the confrontation. Such a trouper,
he thought again. He would really have to do something nice for her when he was
done messing up her life and possibly getting her killed in the process.

Elena
repeated his message, the man’s face before them darkened. He had not liked
what he heard. He raised his hand, Lucas went still then relaxed when he saw
the man bring up a cell phone and pressed a speed dial button before speaking
fast into the phone.

He
looked over at Lucas when he spoke, nodded curtly and hung up the phone. He
looked over at Elena and spoke to her. She nodded her response and took hold of
Lucas’s arm.

“We’re
to follow him,” she said, once again speaking softly.

He
looked down at her, she didn’t look any more worried than she had a few moments
ago. He leant down so that his mouth was close to her ear and asked, “You
didn’t happen to overhear any of what was said on the other end did you? Give
us an idea of what to expect?”

She
shook her head and together they started following the man.

“No,
but I didn’t catch the words, kill, maim, murder, disappear or river so I think
he’s pretty interested in what you have to say,” she looked at him. “I must
admit I’m curious too.”

He
gave her a smile. “Relax, I haven’t killed us yet.”

He
felt some tension leave her body, but she was still pretty stiff, but then
again that could be because of the cold. She returned his smile, albeit
slightly smaller.


Yet
being the operative word Lucas,” she replied.

They
followed the man into a shop on the main street. The entrance was off to the
side in a concealed alley. How very gangster of them, Lucas thought. The
building looked like it should have been condemned years ago. It had been once
a restaurant and still held some booths and a counter. Dust coated each
surface. They walked up a flight of steps and entered another world. The room
was richly decorated, hard wood floors shined and Lucas had an insane thought
about wiping his feet. Long leather couches, big LCD screens with Dolby Stereos
and all the trimmings stood to one side. A tall elderly man who looked like
some child’s grandfather sat at a table eating dinner consisting of lobster and
caviar. He took a sip of Vodka from his glass in front of him and regarded
them.

Marlon
Brando he was not. The man’s thinning hair was slicked over to one side, his
bushy white eyebrows were in dire need of a trim and he wore an expensive suit,
tailored just for him.

His
black eyes stared right into Lucas’s and he had to work hard at not flinching,
the man was as cold as ice. He then turned his attention to Elena, his eyes
drifting up and down her body. Lucas felt the desire to stand in front of her
to protect from the old man’s sins. Lucas felt his hands become fists hanging
uselessly beside his thighs. The old man turned his attention back to Lucas and
smiled. He knew the effect he had on others and apparently approved of Lucas.

“What
about my shipment?” from the sound of his voice, you would have thought him to
be a young man. He had clearly looked after himself over the years.

Elena
turned to translate just as the man repeated his question, this time in
English.

Time
to lay down some ground rules
.

“First
I need some things from you,” Lucas declared.

The
old man laughed. Elena’s head swung around to face him.

“You’re
negotiating with the Mafiya?” she sounded incredulous.

Lucas
kept his eyes on the Man in Charge playing the staring game he obviously favored.

“I
am Iosif Simonov. You are a very brave young man. That or a very stupid one,”
Iosif smiled. “I could use a man like you, you have quite the set of balls on
you.”

Out
of the corner of his eyes, he saw Elena’s jaw drop and he could see her pearly
white molars. Had it been under other conditions he would have laughed.

Iosif
continued. “What is it that you want?”

“Guns
– the good ones,” he said.

“I
don’t have any other kind,” Iosif stated truthfully. He wasn’t boasting, he
knew the quality of his merchandise and wouldn’t have them if they weren’t of
top grade.

“We
have a deal then?” Lucas clarified.

Iosif
nodded curtly, he was a busy man. He didn’t have time for games, if he wasn’t
about the deal they would be getting fitted for a cement shoe right about now.

“Your
drug shipment coming in on Tuesday is dirty. One of your men rolled over. You
might want a change of location, unless you like hundreds of SVR Agents at your
party.”

Iosif’s
eyes widened. “And how do you happen to know this?”

Lucas
shrugged, folding his arms across his chest looking nonchalant, “I have myself
a spy or two inside Russian Intelligence.”

Iosif
laughed, wrinkles appearing at the edge of his eyes revealing his age. He stood
up. “Follow me.”

Lucas
took hold of Elena’s hand and pulled her close into his body, protecting her.
Now would come to true test, he didn’t like not knowing his surroundings. If it
went belly up, it would be difficult at best to get Elena out of there.

They
followed Iosif back down to the restaurant and out the door and out to a large
dark Hummer parked by the building. Iosif shook his head slightly at the two
beefy men standing guard at the car, most likely letting them know silently
that he was not being held by gun point. If Lucas hadn’t been looking for such
a sign he would never have seen it.

Iosif
barked orders at the two men who promptly snapped into motion. Lucas relied on
Elena’s response on what was going down. In a way he felt blind, only having
her to guide him through. Trusting her with his life in the dangerous situation
they found themselves in. Elena’s demeanor didn’t change, so he took that as
everything was okay.

Lucas
watched as Iosif’s men opened the trunk of the car to reveal a large selection
of high powered sniper rifles, elite revolvers and a vast cornucopia of
assorted weapons.

Elena’s
eyes bulged, she reminded him of Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall when the
air on Mars was trying to kill him. Lucas felt giddy like a kid in a candy
store. He stepped closer and perused the collection, he noted the Dragunov
Sniper Rifle and an AN-94 Assault Rifle, the latter used by elite Russian
Military. He admired the Serbian Zastava M93 Black Arrow Sniper Rifle as he
picked up an UK Adams MK4 revolver before replacing it with a Makarov PM eight
round pistol. He took stock of the other weapons lying in the truck of the car.
A Desert Eagle and American 180 SMG .22 caliber were also featured. It was a
complete shopping list for the everyday terrorist.

Iosif
smiled proudly as if commenting on a child’s progress.

“State
of the art weapons, not even SVR have these,” he said.

Lucas
nodded. “I’ve never seen a finer collection.”

Iosif’s
eyes twinkled. “ May I ask what you plan on doing with your selection?”

Lucas
looked the old man in his eyes, determined to make his point very clear. “I
have no plans to interfere with your family or business. We have a different
target in mind.”

Iosif
accepted Lucas’s word that he would not use his weapons against the Bratva. It
would be a suicide mission but just maybe Lucas could’ve been stupid enough to
try. Iosif wasn’t a man to take chances, that was why he was in charge and
still alive. He looked at Elena before turning back to Lucas.

“I
would also be willing to make another trade, for your pretty lady here?”

Elena
was justly mortified. “I think not!” she blurted out without much thought as to
who she was talking to.

“These
will do fine, thank you,” Lucas said. He thought it best to get Elena the hell
out of there, before she said something to offend Iosif. She clearly did not
like the man and took little effort to conceal the fact.

“Anytime
you want to do business American you know where to find me eh,” he turned to
Elena and smiled sweetly. “And you my dear are always welcome.”

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