by Peter Kozmar
He turned towards Andy and said, “Your apartment will be fumigated and refurbished for when you return.” Andy looked puzzled. “It’s written in the contract you read and signed.” Andy racked his brain, he couldn’t remember seeing the clause, then again, all he could remember was how much they were going to pay him.
Dortman continued, his accent getting thicker as he absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding ring, “Every new employee gets their accommodation cleaned … in case Mrs Martirossian decides to visit. We had an embarrassing incident a few years ago when she paid a visit to the home of a new employee and had been reduced to tears by what she saw. It has never happened since.”
They turned off the I495, skirting around Andrews Air Force Base through Camp Springs on the MD5, before turning right onto the I223. Within minutes they arrived at the entrance to the airfield where they were greeted by a private security guard carrying a clipboard and a side arm. He checked their names were on his list and waved them through. The BMW drove to a nearby hanger where the Martirossians’ Gulfstream G550 waited.
Dortman climbed out of the car before the chauffeur had got out to open Andy’s door. Andy handed over his apartment key to the chauffeur, just as a thought popped into his head. He leaned in close to the chauffeur to make sure they weren’t overheard before saying, “When you see Mr Williams, ask him to remove all of the booze from my apartment, and I mean all of it, even if it’s unopened.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you. The alarm code for my apartment is one, two, three, four.” Andy turned and quickly made his way up the stairs of the Gulfstream.
He noticed Dortman on his cell phone and sat down opposite him as Dortman’s call continued, “As he said in the email, he sends his apologies. He appointed me to attend the meeting in his absence with full authority to act on his behalf. I’m to report back to him with the highlights.” He looked at Andy, breaking his gaze when he caught Andy looking directly at him. “Thank you.”
Dortman ended the call. He looked as though he were about to say something, but instead turned his head to look out of the window into the distance, turning his wedding ring absentmindedly as the safety briefing was given. Andy closed his tired eyes, trying to ignore Dortman who radiated a nervous efficiency. To sleep, he needed to blot out Dortman and his intense energy.
The ground crew attached a tug to the nose wheel and waited for their instructions from the captain to guide the jet out of the hangar. From the comfort of his wide leather seat, he saw the BMW pull away heading back to the city. The tug gently eased the jet out from the artificial lights of the hangar and into the bright winter sunlight. The Gulfstream’s engines started to whine loudly and the navigation lights flashed brightly as the pilots readied the jet for take-off.
Once in the air, Andy hit the recline function and the seat flattened out, within minutes Andy was sleeping soundly … the first time in many months.
CHAPTER 2
The smell of freshly brewed coffee woke Andy from his deep sleep. He felt drowsy and needed to wake up, so he reluctantly pushed the button to bring his chair upright. He accepted the flight attendant’s offer of coffee. Returning with the hot drink, the flight attendant smiled and informed him that the shower was ready for his use and that his new clothes were in the bathroom. She pointed to a door at the rear of the jet and left him with the strong coffee to bring him round.
He was relieved to get out of his clothes and freshen up. The sharp razor moved effortlessly across his face; it felt good to get rid of the stubble that had become his constant companion over the last few months. He got in the shower and washed away the remains of the sleepiness. He took his time putting on the new clothes relishing the feel of the crisp material on his skin. Dortman had been right, they had thought of everything and that included the perfect sizing for his clothes, and a new watch, nothing flashy, just the time and date. He looked in the mirror, his hair was a little longer than he liked, but otherwise he was looking pretty good.
Andy re-entered the main cabin and made his way back to his chair. He saw Dortman was engrossed in a book so he coughed politely to get his attention. Dortman looked up from book on his lap and made eye contact. He looked Andy up and down seemingly satisfied with the transformation he had cleverly orchestrated.
“Thanks for the time piece,” Andy said as he held up his wrist to show off the watch.
“It is so you have no excuse to be late,” Dortman replied.
Having had enough of the all the special attention, he pointed to Dortman’s pristine dark woollen three-piece suit, “One of yours?”
“It is provided by Mr Martirossian. He likes to keep his planes stocked in case he needs to travel at short notice.” Dortman’s smile made him look much younger than Andy had initially thought. “Luckily, we are the same size and have the same taste in clothes,” he chuckled. Andy sat back down in his seat and picked up the hot coffee that was waiting for him. “You slept well?” Dortman asked.
“Yes, I needed it,” Andy admitted, “the shower’s a lot better than the one in my apartment. I hope you didn’t mind that I used the shaving kit?”
“That’s what it’s there for. The Martirossians believe while travelling with them, or on their behalf, you must be refreshed and look presentable when you arrive at your destination. We all have important jobs to do and they want us to perform at our absolute best … without any distractions.”
Andy laughed, “I’ll mention that at my next job interview when I negotiate my travel conditions.” He made himself comfortable in his seat and reached for the wireless Bose headphones, conveniently placed nearby, with the intention to listen to some music. I could definitely get used to this, he thought to himself.
Then, just as he was settling down to work through the channels, an announcement came over the aircraft speakers: “This is your Captain speaking. I trust that you had a pleasant flight with us today. We are now on our final approach into Geneva and will have you on the ground in around ten minutes. The cabin crew will now prepare the cabin for landing and I will see you on the ground.”
The Gulfstream descended in clear skies; the tall, rugged peaks from the surrounding snow-capped mountains glistened in the golden light of the winter sunrise. The aircraft turned sharply and continued its smooth descent over the still waters of Lake Geneva. A few pleasure craft were already on the lake carving through the water and leaving white trails in their wake.
The landing at Geneva International was uneventful and, after taxiing to the Executive jet terminal, they were greeted by a waiting Immigration Official who boarded the jet as soon as the aircraft door was open. The flight attendant presented all their passports to him. Dortman had told Andy that the details had already been emailed in advance to the Swiss Authorities. The Official swiped the passports through a portable reader and checked the photos matched the passport holders. He removed a small stamp and ink pad from his satchel and stamped each passport with their entry visas before returning the passports to the flight attendant and welcoming them to Switzerland.
As soon as the Immigration Official had completed his business he exited the aircraft. It was quick; nothing like the long queues you’d expect at Immigration. Dortman stood and headed for the open door, Andy took this as his cue and followed close behind. Dortman paused at the door and turned to look back at the flight attendant, “Have the crew and jet ready to depart in twenty-four hours. I will call you if our plans change.”
“Yes Mr Dortman.”
Dortman turned to Andy. “We’ll be travelling to see Mrs Martirossian. The outcome of that conversation will determine where you go after that.”
Why is Ana hiring me? I’ve always dealt with Vladim, where is he? Andy had met Ana Martirossian on a couple of social occasions and had only managed brief, strained conversations. She wasn’t fond of him; tolerating his presence in her life because of his friendship with Vladim. She did not understand the relationship because she did not know the history they shared, b
ut then, she didn’t want to know, suffice to say, he was a fly in the ointment.
Another dark BMW waited for them at the bottom of the steps, its driver wearing a smart dark suit, white shirt and black tie. Walking down the steps, Andy could see his breath and felt the morning chill cut through his clothes. He was grateful for the short distance between the plane and the car. Once they were settled, the driver started the engine and exited the airfield.
The forty-minute drive passed quickly and they arrived at the entrance to the cable car in a picture-postcard alpine village. The early morning sun had finally climbed high enough over the surrounding mountain peaks for its rays to hit the west side of the valley floor. The impressive feat of engineering impressed Andy, his eyes followed the cable car wire running up the sheer rock face of the mountainside towering above them. He wondered for a moment how they had managed to achieve such a task and how many lives were lost during construction.
Andy could hear Dortman speaking fluent French to the staff at the terminus and, after a moment, signalled for Andy to join him inside a waiting carriage. The glass doors closed silently behind them and, after a few seconds, they started their gentle ascent up the mountain. The glass cable car offered excellent views of the surrounding mountains and the valley floor, now a long way below them. Andy firmly gripped one of the hand rails for support as he felt the cable car rock gently from side to side as mountain winds buffeted their little glass bubble. Dortman avoided the hand rails and instead held his cell phone up and took a photograph of the impressive view before thumbing through the menus on his device.
Andy noticed Dortman glance across, and, as if reading Andy’s mind, Dortman spoke, “This is nothing. On clear days like this, the winds pick up in the late afternoon as the warm air on the valley floor rises and sucks down the colder mountain air.”
“What happens then?”
Dortman looked at Andy over the top of his phone, “If it gets bad, they’ll take it easy as we pass the pylon. If it’s really bad, they’ll cancel the service until the winds die down.” Andy nodded, not feeling reassured, but he continued to enjoy the spectacular views. He noticed that the cable car didn’t slow down as it passed over the pylon, nevertheless he maintained a firm hand grip on the rail as the cable car dropped a few meters as it cleared the tall structure. A few minutes later they arrived at the high-altitude terminus built into an exclusive health resort perched on the top of the mountain … where Andy had his appointment with Ana Martirossian.
Even from what little he’d seen, Andy could understand why the world’s richest would want to spend their free time here. As the glass doors opened, Dortman and Andy were warmly welcomed by a member of staff, dressed in a uniform of white sneakers, white cotton trousers, a pastel blue shirt and tailored white linen jacket. The jacket sported the resort’s corporate logo on the breast pocket. She offered both men a warm smile.
“Mr Flint, Mr Dortman, welcome to the Pinnacles,” she spoke in English with strong a French accent, “Mrs Martirossian is finishing an exercise class. I will take you to her suite and she will be with you shortly.” The staff member guided Andy and Dortman the short distance to the suite where they were asked to wait in a large reception room.
The room had a minimalistic appeal with Norwegian Pine flooring and an open fireplace set in black marble. There were two large black leather sofas facing each other separated by a glass coffee table and, to one side, a relaxation pod which looked out over an entire wall of glass offering unimpeded views over the valley below and surrounding mountains.
Dortman made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, periodically checking his phone, while Andy lingered by the window, looking over at the snow-covered mountains. He found it hard to believe that less than a day ago he had been in his apartment, drunk out of his mind, and now he faced one of the most beautiful views in the world. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Martirossian wearing a white bathrobe with her hair wrapped in a white towel. She was accompanied by a tall, athletic young man.
“Mr Flint,” Mrs Martirossian offered her hand to Andy. Her grip felt loose, her skin incredibly soft to his touch and warm, but her smile appeared cold and forced, “I trust Tomas has been looking after you?”
“He’s been great,” Andy replied, giving her companion a glance. He too looked well-groomed and highly-manicured while dressed in a brand of exclusive sports clothing complimented with an expensive smart watch on his wrist. He held out his hand for Andy to shake while his gaze remained fixed looking over Andy’s shoulder at Dortman.
Shaking the man’s hand, and noting the faded line on his finger where a wedding band would normally be, Andy looked to Ana Martirossian for an introduction, she obliged. “This is Hans, my personal trainer and masseur, he also provides close-quarter protection as he’s formerly Kommando Spezialkräfte … the German Special Forces,” she added at Andy’s confused look.
She gestured for Andy to sit, before nodding at Dortman who, with practised ease, pulled a file from his attaché case and handed it to her. Hans quietly slipped away, returning a moment later with a glass of chilled spring water which he carefully placed on the table between her and Andy. He moved behind her and started to gently massage her shoulders.
She began, “Mr Flint. You were selected for the CIA straight out of University. Fluent in Russian it was only natural you were assigned to the Russian Desk upon graduation. You were immediately posted to Moscow where you orchestrated the successful defection of a high value asset. During this time, you met my husband and developed a close personal friendship with him. I understand he is indebted to you for helping deal with his Russian mafia problem and arranging the generous funding to grow his business.
“You returned to Langley to undertake psychiatric evaluations and advanced training. After three months, you were given the ‘okay’ to return to the field. While you showed natural talent, your chain of command didn’t want you in Moscow at such a critical point in history, but, against their better judgement, they allowed you to return. You conducted another high profile operation which went against your operational orders. As a result, they sent you to the Ukraine, running agents across the border into Russia where you stopped a coup of the Russian Government and an invasion of the Ukraine by rogue Russian military units. You met your, now, ex-wife back in Washington. She helped nurse you back to health after you were seriously injured in the Ukraine.”
Mrs Martirossian read with a quiet, clear voice that commanded his attention. From the size of the file, Andy knew she was giving only a summary of its contents, though it wouldn’t have surprised him if she had the whole file memorised. She continued with the monologue of his life. “Posted back to Russia you continued to impress. You were even recognised by the White House for your dedicated service, and then, it all went downhill.”
She winced slightly and paused as Hans massaged what appeared to be a particularly stiff knot in her right shoulder. It was long enough for Dortman to look up from his phone with curiosity. She relaxed, as the knot was released, resuming her tortuous precis of his fall from grace. “Following 911, your Government’s focus changed to Afghanistan and the Middle East and with the change in strategy you were suddenly out of a job and, then, out of a marriage as you became best friends with the bottle … your life quickly unravelled after that,” she looked Andy in the eye over the top of the file, “And yet … my husband still trusts you with his life.”
Andy shifted awkwardly, and then shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? We met under different circumstances and I helped him then, he’s helping me now.”
“You should thank Tomas, he is former German Military Intelligence,” she stated, “there isn’t much he misses.”
Andy leaned forward, and as he did, Hans stopped the massage, alert to the potentially threatening movement. Andy noticed but chose to ignore Hans, instead he looked Ana Martirossian in the eye and said, “So what exactly am I doing here Ana?”
Surprised that he ha
d chosen to address her with such familiarity, Ana placed the file on the coffee table, “Vladim has a problem and I need someone trustworthy to solve it. You were not my first choice, but Vladim trusts you, so I’m expected to trust you.” She paused to make sure Andy was clear that, despite Vladim’s faith in his friend, she wasn’t convinced. “You are not the same person as you were all those years ago, however, I have clear instructions, if anything were to happen to Vladim, I am to reach out to you. It’s against my better judgement and, I believe, a mistake, but maybe, when you hear what has happened, you will not let Vladim down.”
Andy was concerned. Vladim, what the hell have you got yourself mixed up in this time? He watched as Ana stood and went to the window. She folded her arms across her chest and looked out across the mountains. “Vladim wants me to put his life in the hands of a drunk,” she said in a whisper, her voice trembling with emotion. She shook her head in despair, “What was he thinking?” Andy saw a tear creep out from the side of her eye and work its way down her cheek. He felt the anguish of her disappointment in him and decided he needed to pull himself together to prove that Vladim’s faith in him was not misplaced.
Dortman interjected in sharp German, Andy recognising the language but not the meaning of the words being snapped across the room at his employer. Ana replied in kind, her voice not tripping on the German words, pitch equally as emotive as that of her employee. Dortman responded, his words met with silence, and a steady glare from his employer. For Andy’s benefit, he switched back to English, “Flint speaks Russian, knows Moscow, and can tell when people lie. He is detached, analytical and highly focussed when on task. Your husband instructed you to retain his services if something like this happened.” Like what happened?