by Peter Kozmar
“I’ll give you what I have in the next hour. It will be later this evening or tomorrow morning before I have the rest of the material you’ve requested.” Andy recalled that Dortman had served with German Military Intelligence, so he’d expect him to be thorough.
“Thanks.” They were interrupted by the arrival of one of the hosts.
“Mr Flint, my name is Tanya, I’m here to take you to your suite. Have you stayed with us before?”
“No. This is my first time and I don’t have any luggage.”
“That’s not a problem, your clothes have already been delivered to your room,” the host smiled at Andy.
Dortman spoke before Andy could be led away, “I will be with you in an hour but now I have to arrange for the information you have requested to be retrieved.” He turned and walked away purposefully leaving Andy alone with the host.
As they walked to Andy’s room, Tanya outlined a number of treatments that had been planned for his day. “Mrs Martirossian didn’t known what state you would be in when you arrived. So she arranged what she thought would be appropriate, but if you want to change anything just let me know.” Andy didn’t ask if it were travel or alcohol she had warned them about. Once in his suite, Tanya removed her phone from her pocket and questioned Andy on his health, allergies and asked about any medications he was taking, prescribed or otherwise. As Tanya entered the data into the on-line form, Andy wondered what world he had just walked into.
***
Before dinner, Dortman had handed over a large file and a sealed envelope containing Vladim’s emails and social media login details. He took a minute to go through them, explaining what Andy would expect to see in each of them.
Andy took a sip of the mocktail he’d ordered while he waited in the bar for Ana to arrive for dinner. It tasted healthy and quite nice. He reflected on the treatments Ana had booked for him, which he’d found to be surprisingly pleasant, email and couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed.
He saw Ana entering the bar. He stood and went to pull out the chair on the other side of the table. She paused awkwardly as he remained behind the chair waiting for her to sit down; it was as if she wasn’t expecting the gesture or maybe it reminded her of something Vladim would have done. “How has your day been?” she asked as she decided to take the offered seat, the earlier contempt in her tone replaced with a slight nervousness.
“My ‘day’ has been unusual. Yesterday, I was in Washington, languishing in a drunken world of self-pity and debt, now, less than twenty-four hours later, I’m in the Alps, debt-free and helping an old friend who’s in need.” He saw her glance at his mocktail, a momentary look of disapproval crossing her face. “It’s ok, no alcohol,” he said. He didn’t miss Ana looking towards the bartender, who nodded once to confirm Andy’s statement. Before they had a chance to talk the maître d’ arrived to inform them that their table was ready.
***
Two other couples joined them at their table. Ana sat next to Andy and kept the conversation flowing. Andy learnt the first couple were, an Executive from the Disney Corporation and her husband, an artist. The other two were Wall Street Hedge Fund Managers who had been committed to each other for several years and obsessed about Kylie Minogue. The conversation moved to Ana and Andy when the artist commented that they made an unusual couple.
“This isn’t my husband,” Ana pointed at Andy, “my husband is away on business.”
“Oh, I see! It’s like that is it?” he said with a wink.
“No, it is not like that. Mr Flint is here to discuss an offer of employment,” Ana used the clipped tone that Andy knew meant the subject was closed. Time to be chivalrous and save the damsel from embarrassment. “I am an old family friend. I’ve known Ana’s husband, Vladim, longer than I’ve known Ana.” Ana nodded as Andy continued, “I attended their wedding.” He stopped as he realized that wasn’t a happy memory to dig up as he’d arrived at the church drunk and carried on drinking at the reception; eventually he had been thrown out of the venue into the street.
“My, you do go back a long way,” the artist commented cheerfully. He hadn’t noticed Ana’s folded arms and stern expression or Andy looking down at his plate, avoiding eye contact.
“I’m sure Mr Flint can tell us all about our wedding,” her tone filled with sarcasm.
“Oh, please do,” one of the fund managers said excitedly, as he clapped his hands together while looking at Andy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ana subtly move her wine glass to the left side of her plate. The table fell silent, all eyes fixed on Andy. How do I describe the happiest day of her life when I can’t remember and made it memorable for all the wrong reasons?
Hans suddenly appeared at Andy’s shoulder. “Sir, there’s an important call for you,” he whispered, just loud enough for the rest of the table to hear. Andy stood, excused himself, and followed Hans. Once outside the dining room and away from prying ears, Hans turned and said, “Sir, there is no call, Mrs Martirossian signalled to have you removed from the table.”
“Oh, right, do you think I should return in a few minutes to keep up the charade?” Andy asked slightly annoyed at his treatment but also relieved that he didn’t have to relive the wedding experience.
“Better not, having a guest removed is usually a last resort. Your meal will be delivered to your room.” Andy nodded and, for the second time in his association with Ana, he accepted his ejection from the party and went to his room.
***
The following morning, after breakfast, Dortman handed over a thick envelope, “This should be all of the information you asked me to provide.”
Andy held the heavy package. “I’ll analyse the information when I’m back in Washington,” Andy replied.
Dortman looked surprised, his composure quickly changing, he looked panicked. “You’re not going to Saint Petersburg to follow Mr Martirossian’s movements and find him?”
Andy felt guilty, he hadn’t been completely honest with Dortman, or Ana, and maybe now was the right time to fill in the details. “Look, I got into a bit of bother in a bar after I’d had one too many,” Dortman looked horrified. “You know how it is …,” Andy shrugged.
“No. Mr Flint, I have no idea, ‘how it is’!” Dortman replied, his clipped German accent sounding more pronounced. He looked completely aghast that Andy could even suggest he might know what having ‘one too many’ might be like! Are you angry at me or at the person who put the dossier together failing to provide a complete record?
“Okay, so I got into a fight and the staff called the cops. Next minute, I’m in cuffs and spending a night in jail. I’ve been bailed to appear in court in a week. So I can’t see myself going straight to Saint Petersburg to track Vladim down, but I can use my time before my court date, to look at the data you’ve provided and do some digging.” Andy tried to sound positive about his situation.
“What happens if the judge decides to jail you? How will you find Mr Martirossian from behind bars?” Andy’s smile evaporated, he’d not considered the real possibility of facing jail time.
He shrugged and looked away, “Anyway, for the record, you whisking me out of the country has probably just made matters worse as I’m not supposed to leave town, let along take a trip to Europe, and now I’m a flight risk, who is likely to be arrested as soon as we touch down.”
“I will arrange for your return to Washington, however, before you leave I need all the details of your arrest. When? Where? What happened? The name of the arresting officer? Which station they booked you into? Your arrest reference number and the date, time and location of your court appearance.”
“Fine!” Andy replied, he was relieved to have the matter out in the open.
Dortman stepped forward so that only inch separated them. “Anything else you might have omitted that we may have to clear up for you?” Dortman hissed, his hands by his side, clenched into fists.
“No.” Andy replied meekly; he’d got used to eating humble pie a
nd knew when to quit.
“Who is your lawyer?” Andy’s heart sank, the room filled with an awkward silence. “You don’t have one do you?”
“Look, this happened before you arrived in your fancy car with your gleaming jet and all this,” Andy waved his hands around, “I couldn’t afford to pay my mortgage let alone find a lawyer to defend me pro bono!”
“Get me the details … Now!” Dortman demanded.
Andy left the breakfast room, his hands trembling as he carried the envelope. Alone in his room, the pull of the liquor cabinet had never been so strong. Stressed and angry with himself he needed to calm down. A single drink wouldn’t hurt, would it? He walked towards the cabinet then stopped just short. “You’re just one big fuck up!” he said aloud to himself. He threw the file onto the table, sat on one of the couches and buried his head in his hands. Tears welled in his eyes as he lost himself in his own dark thoughts. Andy snapped back to the present by a knocking on his door.
“Just a moment,” he called out as he wiped his eyes before he headed to the door.
“Mr Flint, may I come in?” Andy stepped aside and held the door open as Hans walked into his suite and closed the door behind him. “Mrs Martirossian is disappointed and Tomas is, understandably, very angry,” Hans said as he walked to the far side of the room and looked out of the window.
Andy felt a lump form in his throat as the tears welled up again, “I didn’t know I’d be asked to solve a kidnapping case and start right away. I’ve got some loose ends of my own to tidy up, but I know I can help. I know I can find Vladim.”
Hans turned to face Andy, “Mr Martirossian believes in you, so Mrs Martirossian must trust and believe in you too, no matter how far you have fallen, over time she will calm down.”
“Dortman wanted to attack me.”
“I understand he nearly did. It took all the powers of his self-restraint to prevent himself from striking you. You were lucky!” he shrugged matter-of-factly.
“Why is he so angry?” Andy asked. Hans is the only one who appears calm and detached from the situation, why’s that?
“Tomas has incredibly high standards and is very hard on himself, even for the most minor things. He is responsible for Mr Martirossian’s wellbeing and safety. He believes he has failed to carry out his duties and now Mr Martirossian is in danger. He believes it’s his fault. He’s directing his anger at you as you don’t appear to comprehend the gravity of the situation.”
“He’s wrong. I do!” Andy protested, “I really do!”
“Tomas has given you instructions to give him all of the details of your court case. Do it now, he will be able to help you. Once your ‘situation’ is resolved, you can find Mr Martirossian.”
“I’ll write it down now,” Andy stood and headed to the writing desk. He reached for his cell phone and started to write down the information on a sheet of Pinnacles headed paper. Hans looked over his shoulder as Andy struggled to navigate his battered old cell phone. When he’d finished Hans stood back.
“One more thing,” he said, “and listen well.”
Andy looked up, “Go on.”
“Don’t make any more mistakes. You need to apologise to Tomas, for not being honest with him, gather your files and leave.”
“Understood,” Andy said as he nodded.
Hans turned to leave and, as he reached the door, he stopped and faced Andy, “For the record, I have never seen Tomas so angry, I know what he’s capable of and I can’t be responsible for what he would do to you. I thought I should warn you.” He opened the door and left.
Andy spent the next five minutes reading the details he’d written down and checking his phone to make sure he’d got all the information Dortman needed. He placed the sheet in an envelope, he picked up the file he been given and headed out of his room.
***
Dortman had made himself at home in the reception area, sat in a high-backed wicker chair, in front of the large wood burning fire. He put down the herbal tea and his phone on the side table and stood as Andy approached.
“These are the details of my arrest and court case,” Andy said handing over the envelope. Andy averted his gaze away from Dortman and instead looked down at the floor. “I wasn’t honest with you. I understand I have an important job to do and Vladim’s life is on the line, I get it, and I’m sorry.” He looked up right into Dortman’s steely gaze: “I would like to leave now.”
“I’ll secure you legal representation to deal with this.” Dortman waved the envelope with his right hand, “Once your case is settled, assuming you don’t serve jail time, I’ll expect you to be in Saint Petersburg by the end of next week.”
“Agreed.”
Dortman handed Andy a black business card with white writing, “My numbers are on the card should you need anything or have an update for Mrs Martirossian.” He turned to one of the hosts who gave a nod, “The cable car is here for your departure, a car is waiting at the bottom to take you to the airport.”
Andy reached out, offering his hand for Dortman to shake. Dortman looked at Andy’s outstretched hand with distain and didn’t attempt to extend his hand, instead he looked Andy straight in the eye and, with a curt, “Goodbye, Mr Flint”, turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 4
The Gulfstream, with its flight crew, were waiting as the BMW pulled up by the steps leading to the aircraft cabin. Andy stepped from the car and headed up the metal stairs to be met by an Immigration Officer who appeared through the open doorway and asked for Andy’s passport. The officer scanned his passport and, when the light on the terminal turned green, he handed it back to Andy saying, “I hope you enjoyed your time in Switzerland, Mr Flint, have a safe journey.”
The flight attendant retracted the stairs as the captain fired up the engines. The ground crew prepared the aircraft for departure from the aircraft pad and, under instruction from the cockpit, pushed the Gulfstream on to the taxiway. With the tug disconnected, the jet moved quickly to the runway and, with only the briefest of pauses, powered down the runway and into the grey skies.
To help pass the time Andy scanned the range of international news print available for him and selected a copy of The Times. The front-page led with an expose about a British Cabinet Minister who, much to the surprise of his wife, had been caught out having simultaneous affairs with two women. One of them a lawyer with links to the Russian Government. This had all come to light when the Minister’s private apartment in London had been burgled while he had been out at dinner and a treasure trove of Cabinet and Secret documents had been stolen. The Prime Minister had stood by the Minister and repeatedly stated that his position at Cabinet and within Government remained safe. However, the paper reported his marriage was over. The front page also contained a smaller article on the continued civil war in the Central African Republic.
Andy moved onto page two where he read about the United Nations voting to create a permanent unified peacekeeping corps under its own command. The force would be similar to the French Foreign Legion where any nationality could apply to join, and the recruits would swear allegiance to the UN. Initially the force would comprise of a few hundred infantry and support staff and grow to several thousand. Most world leaders supported the initiative as it meant the UN could deploy rapidly, be more assertive in its force projection and effective when it intervened through a simplified command structure. Andy wondered whether his son, Mark, would know much about the background to the creation of the new peacekeeping corps, since he’d been working at the UN since leaving the US Army a few years earlier. However, Andy hadn’t been around for Mark and didn’t know what his son did for the UN.
Andy placed the papers down and started to lay out the papers Dortman had given him onto the cabin’s fold-out table. He started with Vladim’s phone records and looked at common numbers dialled over the last three months. From the data he could see Dortman and Ana were most commonly called and texted. The next layer of interactions was with the directors of Vladim’s var
ious companies and his company, Legal Counsel, in London. The list had thinned to less than a dozen numbers in the last month.
Andy recognised the numbers called were landlines in Saint Petersburg and Moscow or Russian cell phone numbers. After another sweep, he eliminated four more of the numbers as being the main switchboard numbers for his businesses. He struck through the cell number of his driver in Saint Petersburg. Andy highlighted five cell numbers which had only appeared in the last month and not cross-referenced from the data in front of him.
Andy started to feel fatigued and his head began to spin after his emotionally charged morning so he decided to get some sleep. Signalling the flight attendant, he put away the paperwork and changed into a sleep suit he had been provided with, returning to a freshly made bed, complete with water on the table and a set of earplugs to block out the hum of the plane’s engines.
***
Arriving in Washington, Andy placed the files into his small backpack and was halfway out of his seat before being reminded by the hostess that officials had to come on board the plane to clear him through immigration. He sat back down. It took twenty minutes for four DHS Officials to arrive. Two inspected the outside of the jet while the other two, carrying clipboards, moved quickly up the stairs to the jet’s entrance.
They entered the cockpit to speak with the pilots. With the external inspection complete, the other two officials entered the jet and joined their colleagues in the cockpit. Moments later, the door opened and the four officials left the cockpit without an acknowledgment of, or speaking to, Andy. The Immigration and Customs Officials arrived and, after brief formalities and passport check, Andy was told he could leave the aircraft.
As he approached the waiting car, the chauffeur opened the rear passenger door, “Welcome to Washington, sir, I trust you had a pleasant flight.”
“I had a good flight, thank you,” Andy replied.