Anatoly’s voice was barely above a whisper. His demeanor was calm and enchanting, full of confidence from years of doing deals ten times as big as this one. It was no hair off of his chest if the man chickened out. It only ensured that he’d be dead well before his enemy.
Toni gave a long thought to his choices and then stuck his hand across the table. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, feeling like he was out of options and time.
Anatoly shook his hand and smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you. Now, why don’t you and I grab a bite to eat and your men and mine can go and take care of the particulars. I don’t like logistics very much. I have Vasily for that.”
Toni wasn’t used to such a calm meeting, but he quietly greeted the change. Most men with this kind of power spent hours touting their horns or talking just to hear themselves speak, but Anatoly was different. He was only about business. It couldn’t have been easier if he had ordered them online and paid with a credit card. “Okay, sounds good,” he said, relaxing his tense shoulders.
With the snap of Anatoly’s fingers, three women came out of the kitchen with trays of food and more drink for the two and entered into the party room ready to serve.
Toni looked over at the tallest redhead waitress wearing a tight-cut uniform and black heels and cut a naughty grin. “Is she on the menu?” he asked, sitting up in his chair.
Anatoly looked over at the woman and narrowed his eyes on her. He could see that she was at least attracted to Toni, but he really didn’t know much about the girl accept that she was a good worker. “I don’t know. You have to ask her. We’re not into the sex shit,” Anatoly said a little offended. Motherfuckers always expected Russians to sell pussy. He shook his head at the absurdity. Like he had to sell something that was thrown at him like rice at a wedding.
“Just guns huh?” Toni asked.
“Just guns,” Anatoly said, sizing the man up. He knew that Toni was not expecting a man his own age to be running such a large operation. What he was expecting was a lot of unneeded fanfare, not a quiet meal in the back of a restaurant.
That was the difference between the Medlov men and everyone else. They focused on the job and they did it professionally. For a two-block radius, all cell phones and computers had been jammed for the meeting and spotters and snipers were on buildings all around them. It would have taken an army to get inside of Mother Russia tonight.
The word through the underground networks was that The Medlov clan was the easiest to work with because of all of their intricate vertical integration, their thousands of distribution checkpoints, their banks, their workers and most importantly their word. If the Medlovs’ said a thing would happen at a particular time and place, it happened no matter what. Not one deal had gone sour to date, and the clients were always protected. With a near 100% success rate, they were sought out by organized crime syndicates globally, but everyone knew that if you crossed them, you’d have to face the most torturous death imaginable. So, you had better be good for the money and your word.
Toni looked over at Anatoly and knew that he was witnessing the real deal, and he didn’t know whether to be happy or really fucking afraid.
Conversely, Anatoly looked at the food as the waitresses set the plates down on the table and picked up his napkin with a clear mind. Business was over. It was time for him to relax. Shoving the napkin down the front of his black Versace tailor-made shirt, he rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Shall we dine finally, I’m starving?”
“Let’s,” Toni said, picking up his shiny, silver fork.
Just then, Anatoly’s phone rang. His body stiffened to the sound. How he hated an interruption, especially during a deal. It showed the slightest glimpse of disorganization.
It could only be one of two people at this hour.
Renee or Dmitry.
Either way, he had to pick it up.
Every cell phone was jammed, except his. That was the way it always was. And Renee knew what he was up to, so she wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.
With a sigh of frustration, he ran his hand over the crisp white tablecloth to smooth out the wrinkles and scooted out of the black leather booth. “You’ll have to excuse me for a minute,” Anatoly said, pulling his phone out to see it was his father.
Vasily walked in front of Anatoly and opened the French doors that lead out of the private room to the rest of the restaurant.
“Papa?” Anatoly said concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“Someone has kidnapped Anya,” Dmitry said without emotion. His voice was hollow and hard.
Anatoly wanted to ask his father to repeat himself but he knew better. Instead, he waved Vasily off and walked towards the back of the restaurant where it was pitch dark. His feet made an echo on the hardwood floor as he disappeared into the shadows.
“When?” he finally asked when he was sure no one was around him or could see the apparent worry in his face.
“About thirty minutes ago. Davyd is dead also. It looks like they were ambushed while taking Anya to school. Several workers nearby saw a helicopter shortly after the shooting. There is no sign of her, no note, nothing, just a few dead bodies that we’re trying to trace.”
Anatoly felt a strain in his stomach like someone had just punched him. He pushed his body up against the wall and tried to be as clear-headed as he could, but this was his baby sister, a girl who had given him a reason to live during many dark moments in his life.
“Are the police involved?” Anatoly asked with his head dropped.
“For the moment.”
“How is Royal?” Anatoly asked, concerned about his stepmother.
“She has gone…insane,” Dmitry answered, looking behind him at the hysterics happening in the next room.
Anatoly could hear his stepmother in the background, her voice shrieking in anger and pain. “I’m on the way, papa.” He wanted to say more, to comfort him, but he knew that his best show of support would be to do as his father asked.
“Call Gabriel first. Tell him to drop everything and come also. Bring Vasily with you and have a few of your most trusted and skilled men there on standby. For that matter, bring Renee and Brigitte for safe keeping. Anya may not be the last on the list to collect.” Dmitry gritted his teeth and growled. “I want my fucking daughter back alive, Anatoly.”
“I want my sister back alive, Papa.”
“Then get here and let’s get this done.”
With that Dmitry hung up the phone.
Anatoly stood in disbelief. Whoever would be stupid enough to do this had to expect a war of epic proportions. Anya of all people. His father’s pride and joy. It occurred to him at that moment that he might not live through this one. His father did not play about family. He would be out for blood.
Suddenly, he was more paranoid than ever. Pulling his gun out of the holster attached to the back of his pants, he checked it, and then called Vasily over. “V, come here,” he said in a whisper as he waved him over.
“Da?” Vasily answered as he walked quickly to his boss. Even he knew something wasn’t right. He stood square shouldered and waited for an order or at least an explanation. Being Anatoly’s personal bodyguard for over four years now, he could read his body language and anticipate his needs even before he spoke.
In the darkness, they stood face-to-face.
Anatoly leaned over and whispered into his man’s ear. “Anya has been kidnapped.”
Vasily was not expecting that. His gaze narrowed as he listened further.
Anatoly hit Vasily on the chest as he talked. “Look. Get that fucker, Toni, out of here. And make sure someone gets him his shit on time. We’ve got bigger things to handle now. Get my fastest jet ready to go in two hours. We leave tonight for Prague. You. Me. And Renee.” Anatoly looked down the hall to make sure that no one was listening. “And call up my personal team. I want them ready when I call. I don’t know if she’s here in the states, but if she is, then I’ll need them to be mobile and ready.”
“Da, da, boss. I’m on it,” Vasily said, turning around. He tried to conceal his shock as he walked off, but in honesty he was flabbergasted. Anya Medlov?! Who would be so stupid? He heard his boss’s voice at his back.
“And V… don’t trust anyone,” Anatoly said frowning.
“I never do.” Vasily nodded and disappeared back into the closed dining room.
Chapter 4
When Dmitry told Gabriel nearly a year ago to find a country to live where the US did not have an active extradition treaty, he never thought the old man would send him to Africa, but that was where he and Brigitte ended up.
Cape Verde to be exact.
It seemed that Dmitry had deep ties in Angola and Cape Verde, and owned a sprawling mansion in the hills of Mindelo. When they arrived, the place was deserted with only a few workers to tend the land and keep the home clean. But it was a safe haven, somewhere no one would ever look for Gabriel and his new girlfriend.
Although he had never laid eyes on this small group of islands off the west coast of Africa, the government knew his last name well. He was immediately given a job at the Instituto Superior de Engenharias e Ciências do Mar (Institute of Marine Sciences and Engineering) as a professor and welcomed into the community as something of a super star.
Life was great, or at least it was better than his life had ever been before. He had short working hours, no more deception and drama and plenty of time to spend with Briggy. He referred to it as his permanent vacation, and it was all courtesy of Dmitry Medlov.
The beautiful coastal city of Mindelo was fantasy land, if you had the right amount of money. It was a tropical paradise with all the normal trappings of an exotic locale – unique customs, bizarre wildlife, an abundance of palm trees, beaches and fishermen and unbelievable serenity.
From the outside, it could have easily passed for the Caribbean, but this obscure little place that most had never heard of was the home to many retired crime bosses and the meeting ground for billionaire bad asses like his uncle.
On the other hand, the locals were very poor with thousand-year old customs and superstitions and steered clear of the foreigners, only coming into contact with them if they worked in their houses or on their land, which created large gaps in socioeconomic groups.
Cape Verde didn’t get much press on the news and had very little to offer the larger world. So it was a quiet place where those who did not want to be found could go successfully undetected.
But hidden among the vast hillsides and lush jungles were many mansions and many different types of people from all over the world. There were Russians, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Americans, Australians, Armenians and even a few Israelis. They all moved about the small island doing their business uninterrupted. It had been the perfect choice for a Medlov man.
Here money truly talked and the more money you had the more invisible to the outside world you could be, regardless of who you used to be – a drug lord, a war lord, a crime boss, an assassin or even a defunct American special agent.
Though he was far from home, Gabriel was rich beyond his dreams, and everyday was calm and relaxing, full of the enjoyments of luxurious imports and frequent travels in their family plane. Even Brigitte, whom he was at first worried would go stir crazy in such a small locale, had fallen in love with their new home.
In fact, this very evening the Medlov’s were having dinner with the Prime Minister of Cape Verde, an old friend of Dmitry’s, who wanted to make sure that they were still enjoying themselves in his little paradise.
Running in from a late class, Gabriel jumped out of his black Hummer at the front of the circular drive in front of his white, colonial mansion with large pillar-like columns and ran inside past the maid, who waited patiently at the front door for him.
“Evening Patu,” he said as he ran up the stairs. “Babe, are you getting dressed?” he screamed out to Briggy as he hiked the staircase. “Fuck! Sorry, I’m late. The class was later than I expected.”
Since Gabriel had left the service of the country as a special agent for the DEA, he had grown accustomed to his new life of relaxation and making acquaintances with very questionable characters. He had also lost his since of time. Never having to check in or be held accountable to anyone made him less rigid about his schedule. He often referred to it as don’t give a fuck syndrome but enjoyed it immensely.
As he rounded the corner and headed down the corridor to his master bedroom, Brigitte stepped out in a simple black evening gown with her golden blonde hair pulled up in a curly tendrils. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
“How do I look?” she asked in a thick French accent.
Gabriel stopped in his tracks. “Like…” he walked up to her and kissed her lips. “Thirty-five million dollars.” He ran his hand down her side and created goose bumps.
She licked her lips at his quiet proposition. “I missed you today.”
“Well, I missed you, too.” Walking into the bedroom, he looked out of their bay windows at the storm in the distance, darkening the clouds and rocking the tall palm trees. “Looks like we’ve got trouble coming tonight of all nights. I hate the storms here. It’s the only thing that makes this place unbearable.” He threw down his backpack and kicked off his shoes.
Briggy agreed quietly. The last storm had ruined all of their outside furniture and turned over the family jeep. With raging winds, golf ball-sized hail, monsoon-type rains and underdeveloped road construction, a storm could put the city out of commission for weeks.
Walking up behind him to look at the darkening clouds, she ran a hand over his muscular back and thought about the bright side. “If all there is to complain about is the weather when you live in a place like this, then there is nothing to complain about, love. Now, get dressed. You’re going to be late. I laid your tux on the bed.”
“Leave it to you to be a glass-full type of gal,” he said as he pulled off his shirt and threw it on the wicker basket. Turning around, he licked his lips as he watched her as she finished dressing. “I wish we had more time. I’m horny as hell. I just… I want to see you do that pretzel thing again.”
“There will be time after,” she flirted, walking over to her vanity to put on a diamond necklace.
Never in a million years did Brigitte think that she would have a life like Lady Medlov. Now, here she was putting on flawless diamonds, living in a mansion of her own and engaged to the most beautiful man in the world. She looked up at all seven-feet of him and felt eternally grateful. Gabriel had saved her. He had picked her. She could have been back in Prague, still serving as a maid to his family, but he had changed her entire life with a kiss.
Gabriel could see the look of gratitude flash over her face as it often did. He had learned that about her. She found beauty in the smallest of things, and that is why he found so much beauty in her. “Here, let me help you with that,” Gabriel said, taking the necklace out of her hands and snapping the clasps together. He leaned down and looked into her mirror at their reflection; his green eyes sparkled back at her. Suddenly, a naughty thought was inspired. “Maybe we’ll take a bathroom break like at Monsieur Labeau’s home last month.”
The idea made Brigitte clench her thighs together. She knew all too well what her boyfriend was capable of. A month ago during the black tie gala at Labeau’s, Gabriel had realized how bored she was with the other guests and found a way to spice things up a bit. Sneaking up to the second floor, he took her into one of the guest bathrooms and went down on her for nearly thirty mind-blowing minutes. It was so good until she had to stuff a towel in her mouth to muffle the screams.
“Do you think that we could pull it off again?” she asked, getting turned on herself.
“Of course,” he said, biting his lip. Just then, Gabriel’s cell phone rang. “Hold that thought,” he said, bending down and kissing her shoulder.
As he looked at his phone, he got an eerie feeling. It was Anatoly. He hadn’t heard from his cousin in months. Raising his brow, he smiled
at Brigitte and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“What’s up, man?” he said.
Anatoly cut through the formalities. “Anya has been kidnapped.”
There was a varying reaction in Gabriel’s face. Leaning over the ivory banister, he looked down at the first floor of his home and heaved a heavy sigh. “When?”
“Thirty-five, forty-minutes ago,” Anatoly answered quietly. “I just got a call from papa. He didn’t tell me much over the phone.”
“Where are we meeting?” Gabriel asked as one of his maid’s smiled and walked past him with a hand full of clean towels.
“Prague. Bring Brigitte. Head out tonight. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
Gabriel shook his head in understanding of his many directives and chose to ignore his insulting tone. “I’m on the way.”
Saving Anya Page 4