The Makarov File

by Peter Kozmar

  Within seconds the helicopter lifted off, it continued to climb as it cleared the airfield and beach, before levelling out and crossed a small stretch of clear blue water. The pilot banked hard to the right and flew parallel to a strip of white sandy sun-kissed beach on a small island. “That’s Long Island, it’s the fifth largest island in Antigua and has some of the best beaches. You must visit while you’re here.” Andy agreed, it did look inviting, especially after winter in Washington and the cold temperatures they’d left behind in Moscow.

  Hampton interrupted Andy’s thoughts, “We’ll be landing soon.” As if on cue, the helicopter started to descend. Andy looked towards the front and saw a large luxury super yacht anchored off the island with a helipad on the rear deck. The helicopter made a complete circuit of the yacht while the pilot checked the landing pad for obstructions and to get a feel for any crosswinds. The pilot lined up with the rear of the yacht and slowly approached. The yacht’s crew, dressed in whites, were on station, one of them waved fluorescent orange batons to guide the helicopter down. “After we land, please stay inside until the pilot has shut her down and given us the nod,” Hampton instructed.

  With the helicopter on deck and the rotors stationary, the pilot welcomed them to the Babushka. They removed their headsets and, by the time they had unbuckled from their seats, the crew had opened the helicopter doors for them to alight.

  Andy watched as a silver-haired, heavily overweight man, wrapped in a white bathrobe and carrying a full champagne flute, approach the helicopter. He instantly recognised Mikhail Chousov from the file photographs. Chousov looked tanned and relaxed. Andy climbed out of the helicopter holding his backpack closely followed by Gamzova. Their overnight bags were unloaded and whisked away by the waiting crew; Andy assumed that they were being taken to their cabins on the yacht.

  “Welcome to the Babushka. You must be Mr Flint, and you, the lovely Ms Gamzova.” Gamzova looked a little taken aback by his charm. “Ms Gamzova, I heard about your bravery at the airport and your single-handed action in stopping that awful man. What a terrible thing to happen. Absolutely terrible, but at least you’re okay. That’s the important thing.”

  The two men shook hands. Gamzova gave him her hand, however, instead of the handshake she was expecting, Chousov pulled her towards him before gently kissing her on both cheeks. “I have a great weakness for beautiful women.” Andy managed to control the laughter that was trying hard to escape and, instead, smiled as Gamzova blushed. Chousov held her hand for longer than was comfortable before slowly letting go.

  “Anthony will show you to your quarters. Once you’ve had a chance to freshen up you must both join me in my private spa pool for a discussion over drinks.” He looked, with amusement, at the clothes they were wearing and said, “I have a range of swimwear available for you both and, afterwards, the wardrobes are full of clothing for you to use. You are not the first guests to arrive unprepared for the climate. My crew make sure there are a range of clothes available in various sizes so help yourselves, I will see you shortly.” Chousov drained his glass and handed it to one of the crew. He turned and left, leaving Andy and, the still blushing, Gamzova with Hampton.

  “If you’ll please follow me, I will give you a tour of the facilities as we make our way to your cabins.” Hampton led the way towards the interior of the yacht where masterpieces hung from the walls and artwork was placed in their sightlines. Andy had never expected to be exposed to such luxury, but everywhere he looked spelt decadence to a level that Andy didn’t know even existed. And I’m not sure people will believe this even if I did take photos! He was vaguely aware of the commentary from Hampton but he wasn’t really interested, he just needed a shower and fresh clothes. I seem to be making a habit of turning up unprepared with a new wardrobe waiting for me … I could get used to this! Finally, they climbed a highly polished wooden staircase to what appeared to be accommodation levels; Andy didn’t dare touch the bannister for fear of leaving a sweaty hand print behind.

  “This level is for our guests. Ms Gamzova this is your cabin,” Hampton opened the door and gestured for Gamzova to enter, “We don’t lock the doors on board, but there is a touch screen with a privacy option should you choose not to be disturbed. Relax and freshen-up, there are clean clothes in the closet, I’ll come back and collect you in half-an-hour.”

  Gamzova entered the cabin and opened a closet where her winter coat was hanging; her overnight bag was on the small luggage rack. Gamzova smiled at the group, her complexion had returned to its usual color with no trace of pink, she waved with one hand and closed her door. The privacy light came on.

  Hampton continued down the corridor to a cabin on the opposite side of the corridor, he stopped and opened the door. “The port-side suite is yours,” Hampton said allowing Andy to enter. Andy’s coat and overnight bag were waiting for him in their allocated spaces. “If you need anything use the phone and dial zero or you can call me or the duty officer from the tablet on the desk. We have high speed internet if you want to check your emails or watch some movies while you’re here. I’ll be back in half-an-hour to collect you and Ms Gamzova and take you to Mr Chousov. I recommend some swimwear.” Hampton turned and left Andy alone in the cabin.

  Andy didn’t relish the idea of revealing his poorly maintained body to the world. In his younger days he could run a mile in under five minutes and be comfortable with a hilly twelve miles. Today, he couldn’t run a hundred meters without his lungs exploding and his legs in a state of near collapse. Losing his job had catapulted him into a downward spiral that had taken its toll on his body. As a mirror of his life, his body was a sorry reflection of the poor choices he’d made and he wasn’t about to expose himself more than he felt comfortable doing.

  Andy familiarised himself with the layout of the cabin. A large ultra-thin touch-screen television was attached to the wall in front of the bed and its remote control was on the bedside table. A small writing desk and chair was positioned to offer views through one of the many large portholes. Andy crossed to the porthole and peered out at the view of Long Island only a few hundred meters away.

  After taking in the view for a few moments he turned his attention back to his cabin. A door led to a dressing-room complete with fitted closets. Andy slid a door open and found an assortment of casual shirts and trousers of various designs, colors and sizes. In the drawers, was a wide selection of socks, underwear and swim-shorts. To the right of the drawers was a shoe rack with an assortment of sandals, flip-flops and sneakers. Andy backed out of the closet and moved into the white-marbled bathroom with a large walk in shower complete with shower gels and luxury shampoos. The sink had shaving equipment with an array of shaving foams and after-shave lotions.

  Two bathrobes, each with Babushka carefully embroidered in the fabric, were hung up in the bathroom; the same monogram appeared on the large white bath towels. Andy decided to take a shower and clean himself before his dip with Chousov. The shower revived Andy and gave the opportunity to wash the accumulated travel grime and sweat away. He felt much better afterwards and selected dark blue swim-shorts and a pair of white sandals before wrapping himself in one of the bathrobes.

  He lay on the bed and relaxed as the yacht gently rocked with the motion of the sea, he felt himself drift off, but as he did so he was disturbed by a knock at the door. He jumped up and quickly put his overnight bag and backpack inside the closet with the two touching at a slight angle. He bent down and opened the zipper on the overnight bag, just a fraction. Old habits die hard! He closed the closet.

  He made his way to the door and opened it to see Hampton with Gamzova standing behind him wearing a bathrobe matching the one he was wearing. They were led up another level. “This is Mr Chousov’s private level. Only come here if you are invited by Mr Chousov or if you are being escorted by me or one of the crew.” They both nodded.

  They were led into a comfortable lounge area. On one side was a stateroom and on the other, beyond a set of open glass doors, a
large outdoor spa pool. Andy moved slowly towards the spa pool, taking in his surroundings. He noticed a photograph of a young man at what looked like the opening of the Sochi Winter Olympics. The young man had a beaming smile and waved a large Russian flag.

  Andy saw Mr Chousov relaxing in the spa pool while enjoying a glass of champagne. “Please join me. Come in! Come in!” Chousov sounded quite animated and insistent, his speech had a slight slur. Hampton blended into the background while Andy and Gamzova removed their footwear and bathrobes.

  “You have a lovely yacht. Did you design it yourself?” Andy asked.

  “My son, Alexi, designed the Babushka and, after she was built, took responsibility for the fit-out. I’m too busy to get tied up with vanity projects like this. He likes to use the Babushka to entertain his lady friends, if you know what I mean.” Chousov had a glint in his eye, making Andy believe it wasn’t just Alexi who used the Babushka to charm his lady friends.

  Andy and Gamzova climbed into the spa pool with Chousov. A steward dressed in white deck shoes, long white socks, shorts and a monogrammed white polo shirt appeared on the deck behind Chousov causally awaiting further instruction.

  “What would you like to drink? Will you join me with a glass of champagne?” Chousov asked.

  “That would be nice,” Gamzova replied.

  “I’ll have a glass of chilled sparkling water with a slice of lemon,” Andy replied, deliberately not looking at the glass in Chousov’s hand.

  “Champagne not good enough for you Mr Flint?”

  “I’m afraid flying makes me ill. My doctor insists I drink sparkling water with a slice of lemon for twenty-four hours after every long flight,” Andy lied, “so no alcohol.”

  “You should see a different doctor. I couldn’t take that advice,” Chousov chuckled as he turned to the steward, “A glass of champagne for Ms Gamzova, a fresh glass for me and some chilled sparkling water with a slice of lemon for Mr Flint.” The steward nodded and left with his instructions.

  “I’m sorry that you got caught up in that attempted bombing, if it weren’t for Ms Gamzova’s skills, you wouldn’t be here. The bomber must have mistakenly believed I would be on the aircraft and made an attempt to kill me.”

  Andy thought Chousov almost sounded sincere.

  “Andrew. Have the crew been taken care of?” Chousov called out. Hampton stepped forward from the shade.

  “No, sir, not yet.”

  “Give them both two weeks paid leave with immediate effect. Let them take one of the jets to the house in Bermuda, include their partners and children. Have the staff treat them as guests and not employees. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll see to it.”

  “Oh, give them a loyalty bonus of ten thousand dollars each as spending money as well.” Chousov appeared to be thinking for a moment, then continued, “When they get back have them meet with Doctor Abbot for a full psych evaluation. The stress of the incident, and the realization that their lives could have ended, may affect their performance. I don’t want them flying me or my family without the all clear from Abbot.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hampton stepped back and disappeared again. Andy couldn’t be certain whether the performance he’d witnessed was real or for his benefit. He was still puzzling over his current circumstances, sitting in a spa pool in the Caribbean on a super yacht with a Russian billionaire and an FSB agent, when their drinks arrived.

  Andy spoke next, “Mr Chousov, thank you for your hospitality, but we’re here on business.”

  “I know, I know,” he spoke quickly waving his hands theatrically in the air, “I have something I need to discuss with you too, but, as my guests, you can go first.” He smiled.

  “We’ve been asked to investigate the recent change in ownership of several Russian companies and unusual events which have occurred for their founders . Has anything unusual happened to you?”

  Chousov snorted, then spoke, “Apart from someone attempting to blow up one of my aircraft with me in it?” Chousov placed his champagne flute down on the side of the hot tub. “It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. There have been a series of misfortunes affecting those in my employ: my Financial Director was kidnapped, tortured and murdered in Moscow; my Head of Security went missing, I fear his fate is the same; two members of my Board died of food poisoning within a day of each other in different countries; and, another two resigned recently claiming stress. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Has anyone made contact with you directly?” Andy asked.

  “Yes, a few days ago I received a demand to hand over the ownership of AVX Global.”

  “Did they say who you were to hand AVX Global to?”

  “They called themselves the Makarov Corporation. I told them, I’m not handing over the company I built with my bare hands to anyone. The company I worked regular ninety-hour weeks because I couldn’t afford to employ more staff. The company I sacrificed food on the table, so I could pay suppliers when times were tough.” Andy watched Chousov’s face contort in anger and his body shake with rage. “I am NOT handing it over to them! And it’s why I’m on this yacht far away in the Caribbean.”

  “How have you managed?”

  “Being on my yacht makes it difficult to reach me and we move regularly at different intervals to make it difficult to track. I’ve increased my security detail and I run my global business interests from the Babushka via proxy servers in several different countries to slow anyone looking from finding out where I’m hiding. I know that it is only a matter of time before they work out what I’m doing and how I’m still managing to run my businesses which is why they are picking off the people around me. I employ the best people to protect me,” he leaned forward towards Andy, close enough for him to smell the tobacco on his breath, “which is why we need to talk … I have a proposition for you both.”

  Intrigued, Andy spoke before Gamzova could get her words out, “Go on.” Andy gave Gamzova a don’t interrupt me look, he could see she didn’t look happy about what was unfolding but Andy wanted to find out more about Chousov and this was the opportunity.

  “I only employ the best people whether they are accountants, lawyers, pilots or investigators. Today I have a big problem. It is a threat to me, my family and my businesses. This Makarov Corporation, whoever they are, want to take all of this away,” he pointed to the yacht, “I can’t let them do that … not without a fight.”

  “I know the Kremlin’s asked you to investigate what’s happened to a number of my contemporaries, the people I do business with, socialise with … and some I call friends,” Chousov paused long enough to drain his glass. “An investigation for the Kremlin isn’t good enough. Whatever’s going on has to be stopped before they get to me. I want you to work for me, to protect my interests, that way I’ll be first to know what’s happening … and when they’re stopped.”

  The steward returned and replaced Chousov’s empty glass with a full one, then served Andy and Gamzova their drinks before becoming invisible again in the shadows, waiting for the next orders.

  “Why should I put you first?” Andy asked.

  “Five thousand dollars a day, plus expenses …” Chousov pointed his glass at Andy and then at Gamzova, champagne spilled from it into the hot tub, “… for each of you.”

  Andy smiled at his continuing good fortune. This is getting complicated I can’t stay with Chousov for long, I’ve the court case and must get to Saint Petersburg to find Vladim. He felt conflicted. I’ve got Hobbs on my back and the Kremlin shadowing me. Not much pressure. It dawned on him, in a moment of self-realisation, that he had a personality type which made it difficult for him to say ‘No’.

  Andy sipped his drink as he considered his options. On one hand, a very tempting offer. On the other, a friend in need of rescue and a crime syndicate using his work to profit. Looking at the bigger picture, he’d decided they were all connected in some way. He’d created the Makarov file and now someone was using it to build a global criminal netwo
rk and make more money than he could imagine. He needed to figure out who and stop them for good, oh, and rescue Vladim.

  “I accept your generous offer.” Andy replied looking over at Gamzova who showed no emotion. Probably trying to reconcile the offer of a large sum of money to do what she was employed to do by the Kremlin. He needed to bring her over the line, “Luba, you’re with me on this, right? We’re a team. Think of the bigger picture.” Andy fixed his gaze on Gamzova, who looked to him as if she could kill him on the spot, but somehow managed to continue to smile for their host.

  “Yes, I’ll work with you,” Gamzova replied. Her eyes locked on Andy. He could tell she wasn’t happy about being surprised and placed into a situation she hadn’t had a chance to think through. He would square it with her later but, for now, he found it amusing to see the restrained anger and false smile.

  “Good, I’ll have Anthony draw up the papers for you to sign and ensure we can pay you.” To one side Hampton stepped forward, nodded and headed away to prepare the paperwork. Chousov placed his glass down and rubbed his fat hands together, “Now, what can you tell me about the Makarov Corporation?”

  “Before we do that, I’d like to understand more about AVX Global, to figure out why they targeted you.”

  “Okay,” Chousov fell deep in thought for a moment. “Where should I start?”

  He paused again. “I had been a Senior Administrator with a career built in Moscow. When the Soviet Union started to collapse, I received a posting to Saint Petersburg. I saw a great opportunity to deliver services to our Government. From personal experience, I knew many Government workers were lazy, didn’t care about their work and were drunk most of the time. With the right staff, I could deliver better services more cost effectively. I could deliver more with less.