by Peter Kozmar
Arkaday’s composure changed as they sat, and he became serious as he spoke, “Our President called me this morning, quite unexpectedly, he asked that I meet with you. He speaks very highly of you, so how could I refuse? And here you are.” Andy knew that any Russian who ignored their President’s request would feel the burning heat of his wrath when they least expected it.
“I hope we haven’t delayed your vacation?” Andy replied gesturing towards the luggage.
“No, not at all, my pilot can wait.”
“Are you travelling far?” Andy asked.
“I have a Greek Island which I purchased for an absolute pittance during the Greek financial crash. They practically gave it away. The island has a mansion and a few cottages which I’ve upgraded to meet my taste. It’s incredibly beautiful, the only place I can relax.”
Andy moved the conversation on, “Could I ask you about your recent business sales?”
“Mr Flint, I’ll speak in confidence with you, only you.”
Gamzova looked across to Andy, her eyes betraying her silent protest at being excluded, but knowing she would have to leave to enable Andy to find out more. So she made it easy for everyone, “Mr Arkaday, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave and wait for Mr Flint in the lobby.”
The two men watched in silence as Gamzova stood and walked over to the elevator. The doors opened and then closed after she had stepped inside and then started the descent back down to the clinical marble entrance hall.
“I understand that you are looking into my business dealings at the invitation of the President, but what I explain to you must not be disclosed to anyone. Not even him. Do I have your word on this?” Arkaday’s eyes fixed on Andy looking for any sign of a lie to be told.
“You have my complete discretion Mr Arkaday,” Andy replied. Arkaday stopped staring at Andy, his expression slipping to reveal an underlying tiredness.
“I’ve been a fighter all my life. I started as a street-fighter and became very good at it. However, I needed discipline and structure in my life. My parents pushed me into joining the army and whilst enlisted I took up boxing. I represented the army at many inter-services competitions. It taught me to be tough, never quit, and fight through adversity and challenges. It provided great training for when I left the army and started my businesses.” He paused briefly to sip some water from a glass on the table. “I battled to grow my businesses. I found it tough, but I could see first-hand the results of my hard graft. Did you know I had been made an Honorary Colonel for my services to boxing and the army?”
“No, I didn’t,” Andy replied honestly. Another piece of information not on the file.
“In my businesses I prefer to recruit former soldiers to give them careers and brighter futures. To date, I’ve taken on over five hundred veterans.”
“You really are giving back to your country, you clearly deserved the honor,” Andy replied.
Arkaday fell silent for a few moments. “I’m a personal friend of the President. I’ve trained with him at fitness camps, pushing ourselves harder and undertaking challenging activities, like building and living in snow caves in sub-zero temperatures, and hunting wild bears.”
So where is this going? What’s made you give it all up and run?
“A month ago, I went to a nightclub in Saint Petersburg where two men befriended me. We got on well and I found we had many interests in common. I thought I’d be in for a great night, or that’s how it started …,” his voice trailed off and he looked down at his feet, shaking his head, “… after a few drinks I can’t remember what happened. The next thing I remember is waking up naked and alone in my apartment with no memory of that night …,” for a second time Arkaday’s voice trailed off as he continued staring at the floor, “… a few days later a package arrived. It contained intimate photos and a video.” Arkaday came to an abrupt stop clearly emotional and struggling to continue.
“Go on Mr Arkaday, once I know what happened, I may be able to help,” Andy hoped he sounded encouraging as he wanted to know what had caused the man in front of him so much torment. He didn’t know whether he could fix it, but at least if it was out in the open, he’d have a chance.
“It’s too late for me. Maybe you can stop them from doing this to someone else,” his hand trembled as he drank from a bottle of water to calm himself before continuing, “They had pictures of me having sex with the men I’d met at the bar. I don’t remember it. Then, a day or so later I received an envelope containing an ultimatum: sign over The Phantom Group and retain some personal assets – enough to live comfortably – or face public humiliation and business suicide when the photos and video were released to the press.”
He shook his head in disbelief, “When they called, I told them to go fuck themselves. Then, after they finished laughing, they told me that one of the men, the younger of the two, had just turned fifteen. They let it sink in before asking how my army buddies or the President would feel about me being a child abuser. That’s when I realised I had no choice but to agree to their conditions and hand over the business. I still have no memory of that night. I believe I was drugged at the bar, but I didn’t get tested because they cleverly waited a few days before they contacted me, by which time there would be no trace of a drug in my system.”
“Can you remember anything else from the nightclub?” Andy asked.
“They had done their research. They knew where I would be, where I grew up, the movies and music I liked. They knew what I liked to drink and that I fly my own Mig fighter jet.”
“What else?” Andy pushed.
Arkaday concentrated hard as he dug deep into his memory, “I vaguely remember taking some photos on my phone in the bar.” He unlocked his smart phone and handed it over almost afraid of what might be on it. Andy slowly scrolled though the images and came to the photos taken at a nightclub.
“Are these all the photos?” Andy asked, as he held the screen towards Arkaday, who looked at the images and slowly nodded.
Andy removed the image from Arkaday’s sight and scrolled through them. The pictures clearly showed Arkaday with two men. He was drinking and having a good time. Something caught Andy’s attention, he stopped scrolling and enlarged one of the images. He couldn’t be certain what it was, but a loud bell was ringing in his head. Andy finished looking at the photos.
He paused before handing the phone back, “Mr Arkaday, would it be possible for you to send me the images on your phone please? It’s okay, they just show you having a good time. I would like to have the opportunity to look at them in more detail, I think they could be important.”
“You don’t want the blackmail pictures, do you?” Arkaday sounded weak and vulnerable.
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I don’t want to put you through that experience unless it is absolutely necessary, you understand?” Arkaday’s demeanour relaxed at hearing Andy’s answer. He asked for Andy’s email address and within moments the images were waiting in Andy’s inbox.
“If you don’t mind, I need to start my vacation and come to terms with what has happened, I don’t think I will be back here.” He sounded as if the emotion was going to take over so Andy stood and made his way back to the glass lift.
Just as they reached the lift, Andy stopped and turned to face Arkaday. He wanted to be absolutely sure he hadn’t missed anything. “Is there anything else you can remember? Any small detail, no matter how trivial you think it is, might prove to be critical?” Andy asked.
Arkaday rubbed his square, stubble-covered jaw while he thought. “There is one more thing I’ve remembered since we’ve been talking. That night, when I went into the bar, I caught a glimpse of Anatoly Kruputchkin drinking with friends.” What the hell was he doing there?
***
Andy stepped out of the lift and started to retrace his steps across the white marble flooring to the front door when he spotted Gamzova sitting to one side. She looked miffed at being cut out of the discussion and he felt like he needed
to bring her up to date quickly, but not here. It would be wrong to talk not knowing whether the place was bugged. They were moving into dangerous territory and it was unsafe to let the other side know what he’d learnt upstairs.
They made their way out of the building and into the waiting car. The chauffeur went through his usual routine when they told him their next destination. To be honest, all Andy wanted to do was download the pictures and study them in more detail. It would be better if Gamzova wasn’t around, as he wanted some time alone to look at the photos and see if he could work out what was bothering him … and he needed to respond to Dortman or he’d find Dortman knocking on his hotel door demanding information on what he’d been doing to find Vladim.
CHAPTER 16
The car dropped them at the Metropol and, as they stood on the sidewalk, Andy turned to Gamzova. “Look, I know you are cross about being kicked out of that meeting. I will tell you what he said, but I want to work through a few things on my own. I promise I will let you know, but for now I need to be alone so I can think.” He removed his powered off cell phone and waved it at her, “I also have to call Vladim Martirossian’s Rottweiler!” Andy laughed when he saw the look of puzzlement on Gamzova’s face. “Tomas Dortman … his business manager? He’s like a dog with a bone. He just won’t let go of me.”
She nodded she understood even though she couldn’t see why Andy would compare a person to a dog and find it amusing. “Since you’re going to be busy for the next few hours, I’ll head back into the Kremlin and make enquiries around what happened at the morgue with the switched out bodies. Maybe we’ll get a lead.”
“Are you going to be okay getting there?” Andy asked, he knew a dumb question the moment it left his lips, as the Kremlin was directly opposite the hotel. As if on cue, Malchik and four of his security team appeared from inside the hotel.
“I think I’ll be fine,” she smiled, “I’ll call you later.” This time Andy smiled, turned away and made his way into the hotel. Two of Malchik’s security team trailed behind Andy as he headed through the hotel to his room, they broke away as he stepped across the threshold of his room.
Once inside his suite Andy made a cursory look around. Housekeeping had been, as the room looked spotlessly clean; they’d even changed the towels in the bathroom. Andy opened another bottle of complimentary mineral water and sat at the writing desk overlooking the Kremlin. He removed his laptop from his backpack and powered it up. He ignored its battery indicator warning of thirty percent charge. That will still give me an hour.
He connected to the hotel’s complimentary Wi-Fi and clicked on the Insights application logo and waited while the laptop moved at a snail’s pace to link up with the network. The moment he dreaded had arrived. He needed to power up his cell phone and knew there would be messages from Dortman which he’d have to deal with. Within moments of his cell being in service the display showed he had four voicemails and at least half-a-dozen text messages from him. He read the text messages.
Do you have an update?
Why aren’t you answering your cell.
Update please!
Please pick up. I’d like to speak with you.
Update please! Mrs Martirossian wants an update. Where are you?
CALL ME NOW!
Andy keyed his username and password when prompted. The screen changed and a few seconds later he received a text message and keyed the 8-digit code into the box on the screen. The CIA application opened and informed him of the results from his queries. Andy leaned forward and started opening the search results.
The first set of results were around Vladim’s emails. The report showed each of the three email addresses Vladim used in the last three months. For each email account, the report sorted his recipients from most popular to least popular together with the locations where each of the recipients accessed their emails. Further down it showed a world map with the number of emails received per country. Andy could see that most of Vladim’s emails were destined within Russia, mainly Moscow, then Saint Petersburg. Outside of Russia his emails went to London, Geneva and New York.
Andy looked at the recipients with the least number of emails, one email in particular caught his attention, so he clicked on it and a brief message from Vladim to an unknown recipient filled the screen. ‘Don’t call me. I’ll call you tomorrow’. This had been in response to a direct instruction. ‘Call me or else!’, followed by a Russian cell number. The message had originated in Saint Petersburg in the Moskovsy District. Andy made a note of the cell phone number together with the email location. He doubted the sender would still be around to find, but at least he had a place to start looking for Vladim.
Next, Andy looked at the social media and news feeds that Vladim had been browsing over the last three months. He spent the next hour skimming over the articles Vladim had read. These were mainly Russian news headlines and international business or serious crimes. Andy rubbed his chin as he puzzled over what he saw as he clicked onto the links to view the articles. Why would Vladim have developed a healthy interest in news articles on crime? A few minutes later Andy knew why; each story concerned a Russian businessman or woman who’d been either murdered, kidnapped, raped, beaten or tortured by ‘assailants unknown’.
Finally, he selected the report on the five mystery phone numbers Vladim had called. He looked at the piece of paper and compared it with the telephone number from the cryptic message. The phone number was on the list. They were all Russian numbers; four were used once and didn’t appear again, but the fifth, was a land-line in Saint Petersburg.
“Burner phones and a land-line,” Andy said out loud to the empty room, “Let’s see what you can tell me.” The pre-pay phones had been bulk purchased from a mobile retail store on Nevsky Prospect in Saint Petersburg. They were part of a batch of twenty phones and pre-pay connections purchased in cash.
Andy could see Insights had evolved over the years as it also included details on the other fourteen mobile numbers and whether they were still active on the network or discontinued. A quick glance revealed ten of the numbers were discontinued and four remained unused. The discontinued numbers had been used briefly in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, no two calls were from the same location. Andy clicked on the notifications tab of the menu options and keyed in the four unused cell phone numbers. Andy selected activated and then, location information to be included in the notification.
He smiled and leaned back in the chair. Progress at last … now for the landline. With his curiosity piqued, Andy clicked on the number and found the single call lasted fifteen seconds. The number belonged to a bakery: Bakery Number Fourteen. Andy opened his Google browser and keyed in its name. Its website showed the bakery in a positive light with many popular reviews. The bakery had a wide menu which included breads, cakes, pies and a wide selection of sandwiches, nothing unusual.
Looks like a misdial … just need to check one last thing before I’m done, Andy thought to himself. He clicked on the map from their website which showed how to find them in the Moskovsy District on the outskirts of Saint Petersburg. “Now that is interesting,” he said out loud to the room. The loud ringing tone on his cell phone distracted him. He saw Dortman’s name on the screen and realised he couldn’t put him off any longer so he answered the call.
“Hi Tomas. How are you?” Andy tried to sound as upbeat as possible.
“I’m fine Mr Flint. Where have you been? Why haven’t you been returning my calls or messages?” he asked in clipped tones. He sounds annoyed … I guess I would too.
“I met with President Putin and he informed me other businessmen have also been kidnapped, much like Vladim, and some have been murdered. I’ve been given assistance by the FSB to help crack the case. My US Government contacts here have been useful too. So, in short, I’ve been trying to find Vladim using every avenue available to me.” Dortman remained silence for several seconds. You weren’t expecting that were you!
“How will this new information help you find Mr
Martirossian?” Dortman enquired.
“Firstly, we know the kidnapping is one of several to have occurred, so it’s not personal, it’s business. Also, from that we've found out, a deal can be made as other victims have been released. That tells us the kidnappers will keep their word, as I said, it’s business. Finally, I know that much of the activity is centred around Saint Petersburg, so I’ll start zeroing in on likely sites where they could be holding Vladim. Next week, after my trial, if all goes well, I’ll fly to Saint Petersburg and hopefully locate and rescue Vladim. That’s the plan as it stands.”
“I’ll inform Mrs Martirossian of your progress and intentions.” Dortman replied sounding much happier that there was some progress and Andy wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere, drunk and broke.
Andy thought carefully of his next words, “I’ve got a few more leads here to follow and then I’ll be heading home for my court appearance.”
“Very well,” came the, somewhat sceptical, reply.
“Look, finding Mr Martirossian is top of my list. I’m talking to the Russians and the American Government trying to work out what is happening here, I believe this is the key to finding Vladim.”
“Very well.” Dortman repeated sounding slightly more upbeat. The two men said their goodbye’s and ended the call.
Andy kept his phone in his hand as he looked for the next entry on the Kremlin supplied file: Mikhail Chousov.
Chousov owned AVX Global Enterprises and was the next oligarch on the list. Andy made a call to Mikhail Chousov’s direct line. Chousov picked up on the second ring. After initial pleasantries Chousov confirmed he’d spoken with his President in the previous twenty-four hours and had been told to expect Andy’s call. Chousov said that he’d leave the travel arrangements to his assistant. Travel arrangements? The line went quiet as Chousov handed the phone over to his personal assistant.
Chousov’s personal assistant spoke with an upper class, educated, English accent, “Mr Flint there is a private jet at Myachkovo airport fuelled up and ready to bring you to Mr Chousov. Andy wasn’t expecting to be flying anywhere other than back to the US in the next couple of days. He wasn’t going there alone either as Gamzova would need to come with him … somehow that felt safer.