The Russian Problem (Darby Stansfield Thriller Book 2)

by John Charles

  Tatiana looked at me with a blank look. Then it dawned on me. She didn’t understand the word landlord and was misusing the word mistress. I thought it was cute and didn’t bother to correct her. “Okay, let’s meet your mistress.”

  “Let me warn her first. She doesn’t know you are here. Wait, okay?”

  Tatiana returned a few moments later with a smile. “She’s eager to meet you. Come.”

  Antonina Filipovich was standing in the living room waiting for us. She had a big smile on her face and her hands were clasped pleasantly in front of her.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Privet,” she said as she shook my hand. She directed us to the kitchen where she had already prepared tea and had some cookies on a plate.

  Tatiana handled all the translation between us and immediately dove into telling me all about Antonina and her about me. The landlady listened intently. She was eager to speak to a real American, the first she had ever met. She asked about a dozen questions through Tatiana, even asking for me to point out where San Francisco was on an old world map that still showed the USSR. Soon all that was left of the cookies that Antonina had put out were a few crumbs.

  Tatiana was ready to get outdoors and show me her beautiful city. So we helped with the dishes and then gathered our belongings. Before leaving, I gave Antonina a hug and said, “Spasiba.”

  I called Elana on her cell and told her I had started my day date early with Tatiana and that’s why I missed breakfast with the group. She wished me luck and reminded me that we were leaving tomorrow and to be in the hotel lobby at eleven thirty sharp. Not a problem.

  Tatiana and I had a great day together. I for one loved that she took me to the open market where they sold everything from produce to fresh cheeses to just butchered animals. My favorite sight was the rabbits hanging on hooks. You knew what it was because of the white fur left around their ears and paws.

  We eventually made our way to Gorky Park after lunch at the market. The park itself was fairly empty. It’s like we had it all to ourselves. There was a tiny amusement park. And when I say tiny, I mean just a couple rides, and they didn’t look safe. I started dragging my feet hoping this wasn’t where she wanted to go.

  “Are you scared, Darby?” Tatiana asked as she playfully pulled me towards the Ferris wheel. No one was riding it. At first I thought this park was the remnants of a long forgotten amusement park. The rides were old and battered and didn’t look operational. As far as Tatiana was concerned, it was normal. She had to call the operator over to the ride. He was at the snack booth making time with the young lady inside.

  This particular Ferris wheel had individual compartments that sat four people. We got inside, though I made Tatiana sit opposite me to even out the weight. I didn’t want the compartment tilting too much to one side.

  Tatiana scooted over to the window as we were lifted up. “This is so much fun. Is been a while since I ride this.”

  “Uh huh.” I was doing everything I could to stop myself from crapping my pants. I kept thinking our cage would break and drop to the ground. When we moved into the descent, the cage would drop for a second before catching itself. It scared the shit out of me. This happened each time.

  Tatiana couldn’t stop laughing at me. “Relax, Darby. You’re not gonna die.” I eventually had to laugh because the situation was so silly. She paid me back when we found a bench in a lovely area of the park—a remote area. Fooling around out in the open was exhilarating. I didn’t care if someone saw us.

  The next morning I returned to the hotel a little after eleven. I ran smack into Elana in the lobby. One look at me told her I got lucky. She smiled and then put on a stern face. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”

  “Got it.”

  I hurried up to my room to collect my things. Everything I had brought was heaped on my bed exactly how I left it. No maid service, I guess. I opened my suitcase and threw everything inside as quickly as possible. One last look around showed that there were no stragglers. I grabbed my bag and headed down to the lobby.

  It wasn’t until I reached the check-in counter at the airport that I noticed my suitcase was damaged. It wasn’t new, but it certainly wasn’t an antique on its last leg. Did the airline do it and I just missed it? I had no idea. This was the first time I had noticed the tiny holes, about six or seven of them.

  23

  San Francisco, California

  The next morning, I arrived at Teleco at a reasonable hour. I waved to Stewie, the talkative front desk guard, while on my way to the bank of elevators. If you stop to say hi, he’ll keep talking and there will be no polite break in the conversation that can be used to escape. The trick is to wave and walk—never wave and stop.

  For someone who just flew back from Belarus the day before, I didn’t feel tired at all. I might have had a little jet lag, but I couldn’t tell. I grabbed a cup of the morning brew from the kitchen on our floor and relaxed at my desk. I liked drinking the company swill now that I was a heavy. The heavy-hitters are Teleco’s finest. Therefore it only seems right that the coffee we are served is heavy-hitter coffee, no more generic crap. We drink Lion Coffee, straight from the Hawaiian islands.

  On the way back to my office, I ran into Hillary Kate, literally. I almost lost my coffee, but my arm did graze her boob. Hillary was looking extra sexy this morning, especially in front of the sunlit windows at the end of the hallway. Her golden wavy locks fell to just below her shoulders and reflected an angelic shine—god rays. She wore a thin blue and white sundress and the sun did a lovely job of painting an outline.

  Hillary is one of the three hottest admins at Teleco. The rest of the trio is Alix Layng and Maggie Dolen. My pet name for the awesome threesome was HAM. Since my first day on the job, I’ve wanted to date them. But I soon discovered that HAM didn’t date bottom-feeders, the sales force that services the mom-and-pops and not the Fortune 500s. Unfortunately, all sales associates started off as bottom-feeders. Feeding on the sixth floor blows. I spent two and a half years there.

  But now that I’m a heavy-hitter, things were going to be different. I was batter up, looking for a hit. Bumping into Hillary was opportunity intersecting with luck. “Sorry about that, Hillary. Didn’t see you.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “Oh, no rush. My brain was all caught up spinning sales strategies… You know I’m a heavy now, right? My office is right down the hall.”

  “Really. I didn’t know you got called up.”

  Liar. It was announced in an e-mail.

  “Oh, yeah. A couple of months now.”

  “Let me check it out.”

  “What? My office?” I chased after Hillary as she headed down the hall.

  “Let me guess. It’s this one,” she said, pointing.

  “How did you know?”

  “Because it looks like you haven’t moved in yet.”

  She entered my office and slowly walked around while twirling her hair. Having had enough of my barren wasteland, she plopped herself down in a chair. I took a seat at my desk. She looked around more, not saying anything. Finally her eyes settled on mine.

  It was clear to me that she had just opened the door and it was now up to me to come inside and close that deal. Our eyes remained locked. This was going to be a game of whoever turns away first loses. I wasn’t about to lose. Let the chase begin.

  “My office could use the help,” I said. “Definitely needs a woman’s touch.”

  “Too bad you don’t know any.”

  “Damn shame.”

  “I’m pretty busy, but I might be able to help you out.”

  “Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner tonight.”

  “What makes you think I’m available for a date at the last minute?”

  “What makes you think this was going to be a date?”

  “The desperation in your voice.”

  “Sorry, that’s the sound of someone feigning interest.”

  She said nothing, her eyes still screwed tig
htly on mine. No wavering, no blushing, no crack in her defense. She was a pro at this. But I stood my ground and returned every volley.

  Suddenly Hillary stood up, straightened her dress, and walked out of my office. When she was halfway out the door, she turned back to me. “Meet me at Quince.”

  I said, “I’ll see you at 7:00 p.m., sharp.” And then she left.

  I closed my eyes, leaned back in my Aeron chair, and enjoyed the warmth of the Lion in my hands.

  24

  My “me” time lasted for a whole five seconds. That’s when Tav appeared.

  “I just saw Hillary leave your office,” he said looking over his shoulder down the hallway. “What’s up with that?”

  “I have a date with her tonight.”

  “Yeah, and I’m taking the two other parts of HAM out tomorrow night.”

  “I’m not kidding. We’re having dinner at Quince.”

  “This I gotta hear.” Tav took a seat and made himself comfortable. “Go on. Explain the impossible.”

  “It wasn’t even like I planned to do it. I bumped into her, literally. Almost spilled an entire cup of coffee on her.”

  “That I would have liked to have seen. She was wearing a thin dress—definite nippage.”

  “Anyway, she was looking fine, as usual. So I apologized, hoping this would lead to more conversation.”

  “And she liked your apology and suggested dinner?”

  I heaved a hard breath. “You gonna let me tell the story?”

  “Sorry.”

  “So I let her know I’m a heavy now. She pretends she doesn’t know and I have to prove it by showing her my office; that’s how I get her in here. Mind you, the whole time she’s fighting me, but not too hard. She’s interested, but doesn’t want it to show.”

  “I’m jealous,” Tav said.

  “I know she’s playing hard to get. I’m thinking I gotta zig in the opposite direction.”

  “You zig while everyone zags.”

  “Exactly. I pretend I’m not interested—”

  “Not interested. The psychological mind trip.”

  “Right. Next thing you know, this girl’s telling me to meet her at Quince. Fine, I tell her, 7:00 p.m.”

  “She says where. You say when.”

  “Yeah. No one has the upper hand. We both walk away as equals.”

  “The perfect outcome.”

  I rubbed my chin for a moment and then looked back at Tav. “It is, isn’t it?”

  Tav shrugged as he stuck his hands into his pockets. “You don’t even need an overseas trip to get women. You got HAM in your hand right here. Speaking of, that’s why I’m here. How was the rest of the trip?”

  “Come on. I’ll tell you about it over a bowl of pho. I’m starving.”

  “Only if we hit up the Golden Flower, my fave—”

  “—Favorite place on earth. I know, I know.”

  25

  Fifteen minutes later, we entered the Flower. The Golden Flower was a Vietnamese restaurant and Tav’s favorite place to eat. It was small, which meant it was always crowded with locals. Tour books haven’t discovered it yet, thank god. A big bowl of Pho was cheap and would only lower your funds by about $7.00.

  The breakfast crowd had mostly cleared out so there was no squishing and squashing our bodies through a tight maze of tables. We sat at the first available one. We shunned the menu and ordered two big bowls of Beef Pho. This stuff was great in the mornings.

  “I met someone special over there. Her name is Tatiana.”

  “She hot?”

  “Beyond belief.”

  “Hotter than Hillary?”

  “Tav, these women are all smokinghotkovas. Trust me.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “I met her the second night and we hit it off. We had plans to spend the next day together, but when I got back to the hotel, I didn’t feel like waiting and called her. I ended up back at her place that night.”

  Tav rubbed his hands together like Oliver Twist getting a second bowl. “You’re like Casanova all of a sudden. More please.”

  “I think it’s the heavy-hitter status. It’s made me more confident.”

  “It’s your mojo. Don’t lose it.”

  “So we hook up and we go all the way. It was great. She’s got a nice body and all. But what was really cool—she was a nice girl. I mean, we got along really well. We had the same interests, the same sort of humor. It just worked.”

  “Then what?”

  “Well, we spent the next day together having a great time. In fact, I never returned to my hotel until the following morning, and that’s only so I could collect my stuff before heading to the airport.”

  “That sounds great and all, but now what? I mean, do you, like, e-mail each other and stuff?”

  “Well, I like her. She likes me. We talked about it and agreed we would keep in touch via e-mail, text, and Skype video—just play it by ear. If things continue the same way, I can see myself flying back for a visit.”

  “And then you kiss and marry and there’s a baby carriage?”

  I chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but there was a guy who actually proposed to a girl while we were there. Alonzo Forrester was his name—worked at Smucker’s, up in Chico. Don’t think he ever had a woman before. He brought a diamond engagement ring with him just in case he met the right woman.”

  “Really?” Tav said, letting his mouth hang loosely. He sat up in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah. I had heard about guys asking women to marry them after knowing them for only a couple days, but I didn’t think it was true.”

  “That’s wild.”

  “I’m thinking he found someone his dick likes and he’s running with it. He met the girl the first night, had a day date the next day, and then invited her to the second social. That’s where this guy gets down on one knee and proposes to her in front of everybody.”

  “Did she say yes?”

  “She said yes, but you could definitely tell she was caught off guard.”

  “You’re not gonna do that, right?”

  “No. I like Tatiana, but she’s in Minsk. We’ll see. I have a date to Skype with her later. I’ll have to sneak out and head home early just to chat with her. The time difference is a bitch.”

  “That’s gonna become problematic real soon.”

  “You’re probably right, but I want to give this a shot, even though she’s halfway around the world. Right now, it’s all about rehabbing my personal life. Meaning I need one.”

  I took a sip of my water while Tav was busy readying his chopsticks and squeezing hot sauce into a small dipping bowl when he remembered something else he had to tell me.

  “Oh, get this. Guess what I saw on the mongoloid’s desk?”

  I placed my cup down. “What?”

  “The flier—the one from the travel agent with all the Russian women.”

  “He stole my flier?”

  “Not only that. He was using it as fodder while tugging on the one-eyed snake.”

  I reeled back in my chair. “No way!” The very thought made my stomach quiver.

  “He was behind closed doors. I heard weird noises. So did Lois and a few other feeders who had gathered around. I knocked and when he opened the door, his shirt was sticking out through his fly. He’s got all the signs of a simple chronic masturbator.”

  “That’s the least of it. It’s bad enough he sticks his nose into everything I do at work. I don’t need him knowing my personal business.”

  Our food arrived and the rule we try to live by went into effect: no talking while eating unless absolutely necessary and both parties okay it.

  26

  After lunch I shuffled papers, rearranged furniture, Googled my name, all in an attempt to kill time. I had nothing on the docket for the rest of the day and so far, most of it was spent talking to Tav about the trip. He thought everything about my trip was awesome—everything but the kidnapping pa
rt.

  Finally at two, I booked it out of there and headed home. I really wanted to catch Tatiana on Skype before it got too late. It was nearing midnight in Minsk, but I was really excited to see her again. E-mailing and texting are fine, but nothing beats video.

  It was a half past midnight there when I finally rang Tatiana on Skype. It was so good to see her again. She had already changed into her nightwear, which was a t-shirt I left for her and panties, blue ones with yellow flowers. She flashed me. It was the first thing I asked. I couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful even on webcam. I wished I were there with her.

  “Did you get my text?”

  “Yes. Why you think I’m up so late?” she said, smiling.

  I smiled back at her. “I know; I’m sorry. Next time I’ll ring you earlier.”

  “Are you happy to be back home?”

  “It’s nice to be back, but I miss you.”

  Tatiana gushed and blew me a kiss. “I miss you too. When you come back to visit?” she asked, while giving me a sad pout.

  Since coming home, I hadn’t given a return trip any serious thought. In my mind I’m always saying, “Yeah I’ll come back,” but you never know until push comes to shove. “I’m not sure. I have to give it some thought and see what I can work out.” Such a bullshit answer.

  Tatiana deflated a little upon hearing my response. “Oh. I hope you come and visit me soon. I wait for you patiently.”

  “I promise to start thinking about my next trip, okay?”

  “Okay.” Tatiana smiled and gave me more puppy dog eyes.

  Suddenly the door behind Tatiana burst open and two men dressed in black entered the room. I immediately recognized the bald guy as one of the thugs that was after Natasha. The other man yanked Tatiana off of her chair and threw her to the floor. The bald man began yelling at her in Russian. Tatiana kept shaking her head as she answered. He slapped her head a couple of times. I swear I could feel the impact. His hand grabbed her face just under her chin and forced her to look at him. Tears were now streaming down her face. The bald man continued to ask the same thing over and over again in Russian.