“You must give me something.”
Borgdanov sighed. “All right, all right. If you give us Arsov and then behave yourself, we will not smash your balls and we will not kill you. Okay?”
Nazarov looked at Ilya, who was still standing with the hammer in his hand. “What about him?”
Borgdanov looked over at his subordinate. “Ilya?”
Ilya scowled and lowered the hammer. “Da. But I am going to smash this Arsov’s balls for sure.”
“We’ll see,” Borgdanov said, turning back to Nazarov. “Now where is Arsov?”
“In our secret warehouse on Copeland Road in Southwark. Number 516.”
“And who is there with him?”
“Just two men to take care of the unreliable whor— the girls.”
“And no one else?”
“Just the kids,” Nazarov said, then flinched as he saw Borgdanov’s jaw tighten and Ilya tighten his grip on the hammer. “I have nothing to do with the children,” he blurted. “That was all Arsov’s doing. The perverts pay a fortune.”
“What else is in this warehouse?”
“Just the drugs. It is our distribution center. Heroin, cocaine, Ecstasy, that sort of thing.”
“All right.” Borgdanov wrinkled his nose and turned to Ilya. “I think our tough guy shit himself. Cut the bastard loose and take him to the toilet to clean himself up. If he makes one wrong move, kill him.”
***
“Brutal but effective,” Dugan said to Borgdanov as they waited for Ilya to return with Nazarov. “If Anna feeds this warehouse location to McKinnon, the cops can free the captives and scoop up Arsov and a couple of his men at the same time.”
Borgdanov hesitated. “We want this Arsov, Dyed. I think the police do nothing.”
“They can do plenty if they catch him with captives and drugs.”
Borgdanov’s skepticism was apparent. “I think with smart lawyers is never a sure thing. This Arsov is very clever.”
“And if he turns up dead, the police are going to be looking for us, and that’s not a distraction we need while we’re still trying to get the girls back. Thanks to you, we know where they are, and we should be concentrating on freeing them and leave Arsov to the police. Besides, if we take out Arsov and his thugs by ourselves, what are we going to do with his captives? They’ll need more help and support than we’ll be able to provide. And just taking out Arsov won’t solve the larger problem, because some other London-based thug will just step into his role. But if the police scoop up Arsov with a bunch of drugs and witnesses, they have at least a fighting chance of wiping out the whole Bratstvo operation, at least here in the UK. If, as you fear, he manages to escape or beat the charges, you can hunt him down later.
Borgdanov gave a reluctant nod. “Da, everything you say makes sense. I will think about it. Ilya will not be happy, but I know he will agree that nothing should interfere with our ability to rescue Karina and the others.”
Dugan let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Now, what are you going to do with Nazarov.”
“Perhaps you should not concern yourself with this, Dyed. In fact, is maybe better you wait for us outside in the warehouse, da?”
“Just a damn minute, Andrei! You promised Anna you wouldn’t kill—”
Borgdanov held up his hands. “Calm yourself. We will not kill this scum, though you know he deserves it. But we cannot let him go or turn him over to the police either. If the police know we got information by force, I think your stupid law maybe will prevent them from raiding this warehouse, da? So we cannot give him to police, and we cannot let him go. We do not have enough people to keep him prisoner, and even if we did keep him prisoner, sooner or later we must either give him to police or release him, and either way he will eventually go free, I think.” Borgdanov’s face hardened. “And to this, I cannot agree. He deserves some punishment. He was here long time before Arsov, so I do not believe that he has nothing to do with selling children and these other things. You do not rise to a position in the Bratstvo without killing many people along the way.”
“I can’t argue with that, but what’s left?”
“As I said, we have a plan. Now if you just go into the warehou—”
Borgdanov looked up as the toilet door opened, and a naked Nazarov re-entered the large office, trailed by Ilya still carrying the sledgehammer.
“I’ll stay,” Dugan said.
Borgdanov shrugged. “As you wish.” He turned to face Nazarov.
“Nazarov! Take three steps forward and stand at attention!”
Obviously puzzled, Nazarov took three slouching steps toward Borgdanov and stood up marginally straighter, shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Ilya.
“Eyes on me,” Borgdanov yelled, and when Nazarov hastened to comply, Borgdanov nodded to Ilya.
Without hesitation, Ilya stepped to one side and drew the hammer back to take a side arm swing as if he was chopping a tree. He landed a crushing blow to Nazarov’s back, expertly centering the rounded point of the hammer on the man’s spine just below the shoulder blades. And like a tree, Nazarov went down, collapsed in a heap on the floor.
For a long moment the quiet was broken only by Nazarov’s strangled sobs.
“Jesus Christ!” Dugan moved back a step.
“I-I can’t feel my legs,” Nazarov sobbed as Borgdanov knelt beside him, speaking English now.
“And you will never feel them again, you worthless piece of shit. And in the future, while you’re sitting in a wheel chair, wallowing in your own filth in some shit hole of a government nursing home, I want you to think about all the people you hurt and the lives you destroyed, da? Now we are going to dump you naked in the street beside the nearest charity hospital. I suggest that you tell the authorities that you have amnesia and that you never regain your memory. Because there will be a big raid on the warehouse, and we’re going to make sure that the Bratstvo know that you were the informant. So you see, my friend, they will be looking for you, and you will not be able to run and hide. So it is best you remain anonymous, da? Then you can live out the rest of your miserable life begging God for forgiveness. I suspect He is more charitable than Ilya and I.”
“You promised!”
“I promised not to kill you, and you are still alive. I promised not to crush your balls, and they are still there. The fact that you will never feel them again is not my problem. Oh, I keep my promises, Nazarov, and I will make you another one. If you ever open your fucking mouth, I will have Ilya visit you again and apply his hammer a bit further up your spine and remove the use of your arms. Understood?”
“You bastard!”
“I assume that means yes.” Borgdanov turned to Ilya. “Put some tape over this asshole’s mouth and help me get him to the car.”
Dugan watched as Ilya complied, and the ex-Spetsnaz men each hooked a hand into an armpit and began dragging Nazarov toward the door. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t what had just transpired. He trailed the Russians, trying to figure out how much of this to share with Anna.
Chapter Sixteen
Kairouz Residence
London, UK
Dugan watched Alex pace the room, wringing his hands. “How long before we can mount a rescue, Thomas?”
Dugan shook his head. “The Kapitan Godinais in the middle of the Atlantic. They’re already out of reach from this side, and according to their AIS signal, it looks like three days minimum before they’re in chopper range of the US coast. I’ve called Jesse Ward, and we’re working on a plan, but we have to be discreet. Like Anna, Jesse’s helping us off the books. By the time he got official approval for an op like this, presuming that’s even possible, it would be too late.”
“Yes, of course.” Alex continued to pace. “But assure Ward we’ll fund whatever resources are needed—”
“Alex! You’re wearing a hole in the rug,” Gillian said. “Come sit down and finish listening to what Tom has to say. This is all stressful enough without you d
ashing back and forth like a bear in a shooting gallery.”
Alex bristled, then seemed to compose himself. He sat down beside Gillian on the sofa and she took his hand. “I’m sorry to be cross, dear. But we’re all overwrought, and we can’t let our emotions rule us, especially at this point.” She turned to Dugan. “Finding the girls’ location was brilliant, Tom. We can’t thank you enough.”
“You can thank the Russians.”
“And speaking of our Russian friends, where are they?” Anna asked, then narrowed her eyes. “And just exactly how did they get this out of Nazarov?”
“I dropped them off at our apartment,” Dugan said, ignoring the second part of the question. “Nigel has been there unsupervised, and I didn’t want to leave him alone too long in case he might decide to do something stupid like storming into one of the clubs by himself.”
“Answer the question, Tom.”
“Borgdanov and Ilya can be quite convincing.”
Anna sat quietly for a moment. “Is Nazarov still alive?”
“He’s definitely alive and enjoying the finest care the National Health Service can provide,” Dugan said, then added, “Under an assumed name. He’s disappeared, and it's better for all concerned if he doesn’t reappear, so you should really let it rest. You’ve often pointed out to me that MI5 is intelligence, not law enforcement, so it seems to me if you get the intelligence, how it was collected should make no difference as long as you personally didn’t violate any laws.”
“Still, how do you suggest that I present this to McKinnon, who DOES have legal restrictions on how information can be obtained?”
“Say you obtained it from a confidential informant whose identity you can’t disclose for reasons of national security. Trot out the Official Secrets Act. You folks seem to use that as much as the US uses the Patriot Act.”
Anna nodded. “I suppose that might work. McKinnon wants the bastards so badly I’m sure he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If we act fast, we might be able to roll them up before you leave.”
“That fast?” Dugan said. “I’m sure our Russian friends would be relieved to see Arsov behind bars before we head to the US to prepare our little arrival party for the Kapitan Godina.”
“When do you plan to leave?” Alex asked.
“We can leave anytime within the next thirty-six hours and still make it,” Dugan said. “So I figure we’ll take off as soon as Arsov’s behind bars.”
“Hear, hear,” Alex said. “I’ll call and have the Gulfstream serviced. Gillian?”
“I’ll have our bags packed within the hour. We’ll be ready.”
Dugan looked back and forth between the pair. “Just a minute, you two. You’re not—”
“We most certainly ARE,” Gillian said. “Surely you didn’t think we were going to sit here by the phone when Cassie’s in danger? We’re going, and that’s final, Tom.”
Specialist Crimes Directorate 9 (SCD9)
Human Exploitation/Organized Crime
Victoria Block, New Scotland Yard
Boadway
London, UK
“I’m not even going to ask where you got this information, Agent Walsh,” Detective Inspector McKinnon said. “I’m only going to ask if you’re confident of its accuracy?”
“I am,” Anna said.
McKinnon grinned. “Well, then it’s bloody perfect. A single location with only three Russians and a large number of captives and illegal drugs — we may be able to sweep up enough evidence and testimony to smash their entire UK operation.”
Anna hesitated. “About… before…”
McKinnon held up a hand. “You don’t have to remind me, Agent Walsh. It was obvious we had a leak on the last operation. They have someone on the inside, and I don’t know who.” He sighed. “Given the amount of money they have to throw around, it’s not surprising. And the last operation was so large that keeping it quiet was all but impossible. You can’t run an operation of that size without involving a lot of people.” He smiled again. “But that’s what’s so perfect about this setup you’ve given me. They have all their eggs in one basket, and I can mount this op with a half-dozen men. And I’m not taking any chances on a leak. I’m not even using my own men. A mate of mine in CO19 owes me a favor and got me authorization to use five of his SFOs. Trust me; I’m keeping security very, very tight on this one. I’m not even logging the paperwork until immediately before the strike.”
Anna raised her eyebrows at the mention of CO19, the London Metropolitan Police Firearms Unit, made up of highly trained Specialist Firearms Officers or SFOs, the elite of the London Police.
“CO19 lads. Impressive. It would seem you still have some support from on high.”
McKinnon shook his head. “I fear I’m rapidly running out of favors to call in, Agent Walsh, so I hope this works. At any rate, we can’t afford to pass up this opportunity. I intend to hit them hard and fast.”
“Fast means when?”
“How’s tonight sound?” McKinnon asked, then added, “Would you like to ride along? After all, we wouldn’t be there without you.”
“Absolutely,” Anna replied. “And about that, I was wondering if—”
McKinnon’s face clouded. “No way. Your civilian colleagues will have to sit this one out. And you’re to keep this absolutely confidential. I’m not taking a chance on a leak from ANY source. Is that clear.”
“Perfectly.”
Dugan and Anna’s Apartment
London, UK
“What do you mean we cannot be there?” Borgdanov demanded. “If not for Ilya and me, this policeman McKinnon would still be standing around with thumb up ass!”
“DA!” Ilya said, nodding his head in angry agreement.
“And you both know quite well that McKinnon can’t officially KNOW that you two got the information or how you got it,” Anna said. “And unless you want to taint the case completely, the best thing you can do is stay as far away as possible. McKinnon’s right about that. He’s not trying to slight you; he’s trying to make sure some slick slimy solicitor doesn’t get these bastards off on some technicality.”
“Ms. Walsh is right,” Nigel said. “We shouldn’t waste time with this warehouse anyway. Leave it to the police.”
Nigel flushed as all eyes turned to him, the Russians obviously angry at his interruption.
“I-I mean, it’s a distraction, isn’t it?” he stammered. “We should be concentrating on Cassie and the others, not wasting time trying to do the police’s work.”
Dugan laid a hand on Nigel’s arm. “We’re doing both, Nigel. I’ve already made some calls to get the ball rolling on the US side, but we can’t overtake the ship quickly by any surface craft, and just flying over her in a plane won’t do any good. We have to get to her by chopper, and she won’t be in chopper range of the US coast for at least a couple of days. If I thought it would do Cassie any good, we’d be in the air right now. But since it won’t, it makes sense to try to make sure this Arsov character is behind bars first.”
“And besides,” Borgdanov said to Nigel, “do you think Ilya and I would do anything to jeopardize rescue of Karina and the others?” Borgdanov’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Dugan. “I think maybe is better if you send little boy back to his ship. We have too much at stake and too few resources to waste time as babysitters, da?”
Nigel clenched his fists and started to stand, but Dugan grabbed his forearm and restrained him.
“Sit!” Dugan said to Nigel, then turned to Borgdanov. “Nigel’s got a stake in this too, Andrei, so he has a right to be here. And you,” he said, turning back to Nigel, “try to remember that you’re here on sufferance, and that you have the least experience of anyone in this room. Behave accordingly.”
Nigel stiffened and glared at Dugan a moment, then relaxed a bit and nodded.
“Good,” Dugan said. “Now where were we?”
“I believe Major Borgdanov was berating me for incompetence, based on my demonstrated inability to h
ave foreign national civilians included in an ongoing Metropolitan Police operation.” Anna smiled sweetly.
Borgdanov flushed. “I do not know what means ‘berating,’ and I did not say you are incompetent. But I do not think it is right that we cannot at least observe the operation. Maybe we can help, da?”
Anna shook her head. “I’m sorry, Andrei, but that’s not happening. McKinnon was firm on that and I’m already on shaky ground there. We have to play by his rules on this one.”
Borgdanov said nothing for a long moment, and then nodded. “Okay, but we still have tactical radios from first raid, da? So if we are nearby listening in, I think this McKinnon will not know, and we will be there if needed. We do not want to sit here in apartment wondering what is going on.”
“McKinnon’s a bit sharper than that, I’m afraid,” Anna said. “The Met has specially assigned frequencies for their tactical radios, and they rotate them between operations as a routine security precaution.”
“But he will give you these new frequencies, da?”
“I asked, of course, but he refused.”
Borgdanov looked confused. “But why?”
Anna said nothing, but Dugan read the look on her face.
“Son of a bitch!” Dugan said, and Borgdanov turned to face him.
“What do you mean, Dyed?”
“Think about it, Andrei. There was a leak on the last operation from an unknown source. You’re Russian. Arsov and company are Russian. There are plenty of ex-Spetsnaz working for the Russian mob. McKinnon’s not taking any chances.”
Beside Borgdanov, Ilya exploded. “Mat’ ublyudok!” he cursed. “So this policeman thinks we are Bratstvo scum!”
Borgdanov only nodded thoughtfully and rested his hand on Ilya’s forearm. “Calm yourself, my friend. Is only logical for McKinnon to think this. In his position, we would think the same, da? I should have thought of this myself.” He looked at Anna. “The question is, what do we do now?”
Anna looked at the Russians’ faces and knew she was fighting a losing battle. Dugan had managed to convince them to let the police handle Arsov, but they obviously had limited confidence in the Met’s ability to capture Arsov, and were equally skeptical the legal system could contain him if captured. Their forbearance was tenuous at best, and if they were shut out of the operation, she had little doubt they’d launch their own preemptive strike. She sighed and moved to the ‘Plan B’ she’d already put together in anticipation of their objections.
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