Andrey

by K. J. Dahlen

  The room was utterly silent. A tense rage filled silence seemed to consume all the people in the chambers as all the men there felt every word he uttered.

  Andrey now remembered all the blood, it had joined his sister’s on that kitchen floor. For a couple of minutes now, it was all he could see. Not the makeup or the scarf… but the blood. Then finally—her face, the frightened look in her beautiful blue eyes—frozen there by sudden death.

  When he stopped speaking and just stood there with his fists clenched as the memory was relived in virtual crimson color…quiet murmurs echoed in the room.

  Andrey then swiveled his head over to glare at a very startled looking Angus. “So this cannot be the same killer as the one you seek.” His voice was controlled again, as he informed the stricken looking inspector.

  Angus had his brows raised. “So there is a new one?”

  Mikial shook his head. “You are the politsiya, so you tell us. All I know is that I buried that monster. He couldn’t kill anymore. My sister was his last makeup job.” He sat down again, and folded his hands in his lap.

  The room went still for another minute.

  Sergi finally spoke again, “If we can trouble you two men, just a bit more. We have the best sketch artist in this part of the world and we need you to work with him. So we can rule out them being the same man. However, these two incidents happened years apart… It is puzzling. He could have been young when he killed Mikial’s mother. Then an older man when he killed Andrey’s sister. We still need to clear this up.”

  Mikial and Andrey nodded.

  “I have the Forensic files on a USB and Viktor will have that soon. Sergi Constantine looked around at the room. “We will meet here again, noon tomorrow.”

  Chapter Five

  The Constantine Mansion

  Victim number one…

  Kevy or better known as Inspector Keviana Gavirla read the file on the screen of her laptop.

  Yes, she knew all twelve bios of the victims and the stats of each murder, how they died. The autopsy reports and where they were found. She had practically memorized each fact, each word in each of the thirteen crimes. Hell, she had been there at each scene.

  What bothered her was number 13. They knew nothing about her and she hated when there was even a tiny black hole. She’d been this way since she’d been a child. If there was a puzzle and she finished it and a piece was missing she would go on a little girl rampage looking for it. It had to be solved. No matter what, the whole thing had to be complete.

  Sime today, would call this OCD as they named it in the U.S. But she thought it was just a skill she had, not a bad habit. She was familiar with America as she had an Aunt and Uncle there. She had spent many summers there on her Aunt’s estate. Swimming, growing and exploring. It made her unique among her colleagues even today as she could easily converse in English with almost no discernable accent. She grew up in America really. Russia was her home yes, but any leave she got, she travelled the world, America included.

  Now, here she was in a place she never, ever dreamed she would be. Not in her wildest imagination. No way. But yet, it was so. She was in a room in a mansion outside the square. A place owned by the last person she would ever conceive of hearing about while on this Magician case. A case that had definitely become personal. Staying in a mansion… No…Sequestered in a mansion she should say.

  The FSS had come and got her. They then handed her over to the god dammed Bratva of all things. With no real explanation. Just that she would receive instructions from the Bratva leader.

  This was one Sergi Constantine. Of course, she knew the name who didn’t? Who in all of Russia would be so isolated not to have heard that name? But why was she here? She’d also been supplied with all her case files and anything else she required. All except, an answer. An answer to just one question. Why was she pulled off the biggest case of her life and brought here? It was baffling and infuriating.

  She just knew that her partner, Angus was probably mad as a hatter when she’d disappeared and he had to conduct that press conference himself. God, how he hated public speaking. She had caught the whole thing on a news channel. Poor Angus. He was booed by that crowd and had to hightail it out of there, amidst bottles and trash being thrown at him.

  Or he was smiling just now? If he knew, they had done this? He had tolerated her for more than a year.

  To say tolerated, she meant… he’d been working with only one of the ten women in the FSS and she was the only one to make Inspector at that. Not that he was a bad sort. He was just stodgy and stuffy really. He never saw the angles that she did in each case they had. Or in this case, in particular.

  Kevy noted yet again, on her laptop screen the little dots indicating each area where the bodies had been found. They seemed to form some kind of pattern, like a drawing of some kind. She had noticed this before and had talked to Angus about it. He had shrugged and said he saw no real pattern. She had then argued, maybe it wasn’t complete yet? There needed to be more victims to finish it.

  Poor Angus had nearly swallowed his own tongue at this suggestion. He’d said how ghoulish that was to think solving the pattern would require more victims. He was stunned at such a leap she made.

  Yet, that was all Kevy had done her entire life. Leap. Being a woman, they had been rougher on her in basic training when she’d entered into the FSS. Since then, everyday had been a challenge and she had leapt over each obstacle put in her way. The men would even play pranks on her in the training camp. She had to have a small room of her own, being the only female there. Yes, there had been some who’d been nasty mean about a woman being in the elite FSS squad training. Then there had been some that just thought she was some kind of novelty. Maybe a quota by Putin, to allow females into the Federal Security Service and he could boast that Russia was with the times.

  Then there were some that had really pissed her off. Whispering and smirking among the ranks, that woman had slept her way there. This, she had qualms with. Real fucking qualms, the kind of qualms men lost their front teeth over. She had earned her way there and not while being on her back or her knees. She still got angry over this accusation even to this day. But she had taught many of those a lesson while they did practice defense fights. Many of those naysayers or accusers would be staring up at her from being on their backs as she had managed to toss them down in bouts. She now snickered as she remembered those stunned expression on those tough Russian faces of men who had believed females could not do any damage to them. Well, they’d thought wrong now, hadn’t they?

  After that, it had been smoother sailing for her at least at the prank, sneers, and jeers level by her so called colleagues.

  Now, her colleagues would be laughing at her again. Sitting here in the house of the most feared man in all of Russia. A kingpin criminal that could never be touched by the FSS or any other organization, lest they be destroyed from the ground up.

  Raising her head, she wondered yet again. They pulled her from the case. But why? Maybe it was that she and Angus had gotten nowhere. She thought about it, then shrugged. If so, then why not just officially pull her and him from the investigation? Why sequester her here in this huge luxurious palace?

  She gazed around at the ultra-modern room she had been given. It was larger than her whole flat. They had maids, servants, cooks even butlers. It was astounding. To think that people in Russia actually lived like this. Well, not lots of people, just a criminal like Sergi Constantine.

  Yes, she felt he was just that. Yet, he had more power than almost anyone in Russia. It was simply vexing to know he could force the FSS to do anything.

  She had just about had it with all this as she shut her laptop. She knew all there was to know about this case. She should though, as she’d been on it since day one. Feeling more disgusted every minute, she was gearing up to go and see where this man was. This Sergi. To ask why—

  A knock sounded on the door to the room she was in and it startled her. So much so, she hadn’t
even realized she had taken her weapon up and was pointing it at the door.

  Rolling her eyes at the auto response when it would be a wild idea that Sergi meant to have her killed. She tucked her weapon into her back waistband and went over to the door.

  Yanking it open, there stood a very handsome but older man. He raised an eyebrow at her.

  She placed her hands on her hips. “I am glad to finally see someone. I need you to tell your boss, I want a meeting and I want it now!”

  The man then smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied in perfect English.

  She furrowed her brow. “That’s it? No excuses, no ‘I will relay the message’ then I sit here for a whole ‘nother day and stew?”

  He shrugged. “I will not be delivering the message.”

  “Oh!” Angrier now, she again, got into her argument stance. “So you will just keep me here and not tell this Sergi that I wish to see him?”

  “There is no need, young lady.”

  “No need?” She huffed. “I am an FSS Inspector. He cannot keep me here without—”

  The man burst into laughter.

  Her eyes rounded. “Listen Mister Butler, this is not funny. Bylad! You need to take me to—”

  He raised his hands as he still chuckled. “I am so sorry. I should not have let this go on that long.”

  She nodded. “You are right you should not have. Now take me to him!”

  He stepped into the room past her then turned around to face her as his blue eyes sparkled at her.

  Her eyes narrowed at him.

  He extended his hand to her. “Sergi Constantine, at your service.”

  Her eyes widened. “W-what?”

  He grinned. “You are a fire woman. Not that I mean it as in attraction. Just that, I like fire…In people that work for me. It means they will get it done.”

  Blinking her eyes at him, she didn’t know which insult to address first. “Work for you?”

  He nodded and finally withdrew the hand she obviously refused to shake. “You are still FSS, but you will now be working with the Bratva.”

  Kevy was utterly stunned. “The largest crime organization in this part of the world, has the audacity to make an FSS officer work for them?”

  Sergi’s smile dropped as he took a step closer to her. His blue eyes locking with hers. “I will address two issues before you go any further. We are known as that, but we are mostly legal now. It has taken me thirty years to clean the Bratva up.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “And so what is the second issue?”

  “We will not have to force you to work with us. In fact, you will be the key to catching this Magician killer.” He cocked his head at her. “Would that not be something that you would like to accomplish?”

  Kevy dropped her arms to her sides as his words registered. “Me?”

  He nodded. “If you will stop scowling and…” He motioned over to the counter in front of the kitchenette the room had. “…allow me to make us some tea, I can outline a plan that I am sure you will want to be a part of.”

  Now Kevy cocked her head at him. “I do not know which part of that is more shocking. Sergi Constantine making me tea or the fact that you have piqued my interest with this plan.”

  He stared her for a few seconds then he burst out into laughter.

  Kevy then smiled. This man was not what she had pictured nor did he seem the least bit sinister. Curiosity was eating at her to know what this was really all about. “So, first, let’s see how good you are at tea.”

  Sergi kept laughing as he turned and headed for the cabinets.

  Chapter Six

  Andrey and all the men were in their own rooms at the Constantine mansion. It was close to midnight and he did or should have felt severe jet lag but he did not feel that.

  He hadn’t yet looked over the USB he was given. He just wasn’t ready. He knew what he would see. But his mind would only see his sister Natalia in every victim image. He’d tried to sleep and apparently, he wasn’t ready for that either.

  She had been beautiful, like their mother. Long blonde locks and sky blue eyes. She had been so young when… he shook his head. He had tried to block any thoughts of that poor girl from his mind for many years now.

  Their parents had died suddenly, and they had died together when a truck hit their little car on a snowy night on the back roads of Russia. It had been sudden and swift.

  Andrey had been fourteen and his sister sixteen. She had vowed to take care of him. The town’s people had tried to help, but most were poor back then.

  Andrey had wondered for the last year his sister had been alive, how had she come home with food, bread and staples. He had asked and she had said she had taken in laundry work, sewing, and cleaning other people’s homes.

  He had wondered who in their village had that kind of valyuta. Yet, he did not challenge her answer. He had been too busy trying to make his own money in any way he could. He had never forgotten a talk his father had with him when he was about twelve. Dakar his father had said,” If anything ever happens to me, you will have to be the man. Take care of your mother and sister. Guard them with your very life.” So this had come back to haunt Andrey after his parents died.

  It was only after Natalia was killed, did he learn that she had taken… that she had... He still couldn’t face this. She had become a mistress to someone, selling her young body to feed herself and her brother. To pay for wood in the winter, fresh vegetables in the summer. It had sickened him but grief had wiped away all the shame he felt that she had been forced to do something that had already ruined her life, her future. He got over it, as she had no life to look forward to when she was dead.

  Andre was still in the bed, now tossing and turning while the past chased him. He could not seem to shut it all down. It was now out of the bag or the Pandora’s box, so to speak and he couldn’t get it back in. Getting up, he put on his jeans and a t-shirt. He needed to get out. Outside. The fall air was cool, maybe if he took a walk he might get rid of this frustration and anger and he would be able to sleep maybe a few hours.

  How could he sleep at all though? To know there was a killer that was copying the exact way his sister’s killer did… it tampered with his mind, his emotions, his life.

  He’d had it all put away neatly for so long. He had killed the motherfucker and the local police had taken him away and buried him. That was when Valentin had showed up. He’d told Andrey that he would help him. That he was actually a hero for stopping such a fiend, so that he would never kill again.

  But he was killing again. No, not him but someone that obviously knew him. Or was that even the case? Someone could have just picked up the mantle after reading accounts… no, it had all been covered up, back then. No press was allowed as Valentin was head of the province for the town Andrey and his sister had lived in.

  Valentin’s name was coming up too much here in Andrey’s mind. He had also been missing today in those chambers. What did he have to do with any of this that was happening now? Besides being the Bratva leader of that area, back when. He pushed it all away as best he could and went out the door.

  He headed down the hall and stopped at the top of the stairs.

  There going down the steps was a woman. Not dressed like a servant and not familiar. Maybe a relative of Sergi’s? He watched her for a minute.

  She looked around as if she didn’t know where to go.

  Ok, not a relative.

  Long raven jet black hair cascaded down her back and nearly reached her ass. And what an ass it was, Andrey realized.

  Then she headed on through the foyer.

  Curiosity and a sense of something else he couldn’t identify urged him to follow.

  He then saw the front door close. Andrey followed and eased the door open.

  There she stood on the top of the flagged stone steps. She gasped and whirled around, a gun in her hand.

  Andrey backed up. This, he hadn’t expected. He slowly raised his hands.” I am not here to
hurt you.”

  Her green eyes took him in. From his knees, all the way up along his torso to his chest then to his face.

  Andrey just felt himself being ogled to say the least. Interesting.

  “Who are you?’ she asked still aiming the gun right at his chest.

  Andrey still had his arms up. “I could ask the same thing.”

  Her dark brows rose. “Oh, smart ass eh? Umnyy malyy.”

  He smiled. Smart boy. “Oh, so you are Russian.” He thought he’d detected an accent, but she had been speaking casual slang style English.

  “Oh, I am.” She nodded. “As are you, despite the perfect English.”

  “So can you holster your weapon?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. You do look…dangerous.”

  Andrey smiled. It was the first smile he’d had in a few days. “Oh, I am.”

  Her eyes sparkled, as she was genuinely interested. “So, again, I have to ask… who are you?”

  Andrey tilted his head at her. The way she stood, they way she held her weapon. It was skilled and military like. “My name is Andrey Bannick.”

  She raised a brow. “And that tells me what?’

  He kept smiling, as this woman was highly interesting to say the least. “You asked my name. I gave it to you.”

  “No.” She smiled back. “I asked who you were.”

  For a second, he was mesmerized by her eyes, her expression, that killer body and he forgot to answer. “I am in security.”

  She outright laughed at this. “Bolshivik. You are not so good at it, as I got a drop on you.”

  He nodded now playing along with her very amusing game. “That is true.” He still had his arms up in the air and he didn’t even care at this point.