by Peter Kozmar
Hobbs frowned and leaned forward, “Why is Ana Martirossian involved?”
“Right, this is where it gets complicated,” Andy leaned away and scratched his head, “Vladim has been kidnapped. Ana has asked me to find him. So to help me, so I can help them, she got me the lawyers... By the way, when heading to Moscow on the agency jet, I received a call from the Kremlin. How did that happen?”
Hobbs shrugged, “I don’t know the full picture. Somehow the Kremlin heard you were travelling to Moscow. They put a call into the White House. The White House called the Agency. During the call the White House demanded the contact number for you on the jet. The Kremlin then called you.” It was Hobbs’s turn to lean back and spread her hands out, “I don’t think too much about it, not my decision and well above my paygrade. I don’t make the decisions on accommodating Russian requests, I just do as I’m told.”
Two waiters, wearing black uniforms with red trim, approached their table, each carrying a large tray with several dishes. Andy and Hobbs watched in silence as the waiters carefully set their table, then quietly slipped away.
Andy spoke again, “Several Russian oligarchs, like Vladim, have gone missing, while others have simply signed their businesses over to the Makarov Corporation. The Russian Government wants to know who’s behind it and put a stop to them, however, for political reasons, they can’t be seen to be involved.”
“If the court case goes your way, what will you do?” Hobbs asked as she started to scoop egg fried rice and sweet and sour chicken into her bowl, then reached for her chop sticks.
“I’ll be heading to Saint Petersburg with Luba Gamzova. She’s the FSB agent the Kremlin have assigned to work the case with me. I don’t have a choice on that, but she’s okay and we are working well together. I want to see the site where Bruce was found and visit the site of the shooting of the Embassy team as well as see the hotel the Vectron team were abducted from. I’ll also be looking into Vladim’s abduction. I want to go to his last known location, a restaurant where he met with five other oligarchs. I’ll look into locations where he called and, finally, see if I can follow the clues he gave Ana when he called her.”
“He called her?” she sounded sceptical.
“Yes. I was in the room when the call came in. They had a pre-arranged plan to follow in the event of him being kidnapped which bought him a few weeks. During the call Vladim delivered some clues which I’ll follow up when I’m in Saint Petersburg.” Andy reached for the spicy prawn noodle dish and scooped some into his bowl, then took two satay chicken skewers. He made a start on one of the two skewers. Andy paused from eating, “I used Insights to read what the Agency had on me.”
Hobbs looked annoyed, “You know that’s a breach of protocol?”
“Only if I was an employee of the Agency, which, when I last checked, I’m not.” He took another bite from the skewer, “I read the annual reports written by Chuck which gave negative recommendations and you signed off on all of them.”
“Oh, come on Andy, you’ve admitted you’re a drunk. You’ve had some financial problems. You were … are a mess. There’s no way I could justify bringing you back with reports like that about you.”
Andy felt himself shaking with anger, “The first five years I was a casual drunk because I couldn’t get back into the Agency. The reports said ‘I’d gone off the rails and lacked self-control’. When the work dried up, and my contacts closed me out, the money problems got worse and that’s when I started to drink more.”
Hobbs picked up her drink and studied Andy as he continued, “I read the job references Chuck wrote. I thought he was writing about someone else. I had to read them three times before I realized he was talking about me. He said, of my time at the Agency, I’d been ‘mediocre and failed to make any impact’. He said I’d been a ‘low-level analyst and part-time translator who struggled to work collaboratively with teams’. After receiving those references, no employer would offer me a position. He made me unemployable. He played a big part in turning me into an alcoholic.”
Hobbs took a sip of her wine and placed the glass down, “Sorry, I didn’t know any of that. It’s wrong!”
“Too late now! But at least I know what happened. Chuck happened.”
Hobbs tried to defend herself, “My hands were tied. The annual report is written by an authorised party and I have to go on their recommendation, regardless of my feelings. Chuck wrote the reports and I signed them off. I had no reason to doubt him. I didn’t know anything about what he wrote for your job references. I honestly didn’t.”
An awkward silence descended on them as each focussed on the meal, not daring to make eye contact. With the meal nearly finished, Andy finally broke the silence, “I believed Chuck to be a friend. I never had many. So you can guess it hurt when I read that stuff about me. I don’t know why he did it, but the guy has some sort of personal vendetta against me.” Andy placed his chopsticks down and looked at Hobbs, “I’ll find some way to pay Chuck back.”
Hobbs held up her right hand, “Don’t go doing anything stupid. You’re just starting to turn your life around. The Agency is paying you good money as a contractor and Ana Martirossian has you under a contract to find Vladim. Indeed, you’ve told me her involvement has got a legal team for you tomorrow. You had none of that over a week ago, but, more importantly, you’re sober. Please don’t throw all that away by challenging Chuck, leave him to me and move on.”
***
Andy arrived thirty minutes early at the Superior Court and, as advised, wore a new suit, freshly pressed shirt and new tie, and a polished pair of shoes. In his right hand, he carried his overnight bag, just in case. He felt nervous as he climbed the steps leading to the courthouse as the full consequences of his actions sank in. Before stepping inside the building, he saw O’Rourke stood to one side. On seeing Andy, O’Rourke strode towards him and offered his hand.
“Mr Flint it’s been a busy morning. We may have a bite. One of the partners has been in a conference with the US Attorney’s office. Looks like there could be a deal. Hopefully it will keep you out of jail.” Andy didn’t know what to say, though he could feel his heart racing.
“Shall we go inside?” was all he was able to ask.
“No, we’ll wait here for Mr Oldham to come get us, we’ve got plenty of time.”
Andy glanced at his watch, “Can you tell me what’s happened?”
“The DA doesn’t want news of a bust, involving an alleged dirty cop, reaching the judge. It could increase the DA’s workload and see some bad guys back on the streets. Plus, the bar has been lobbying to have your case dropped, said they’d over reacted by calling the cops. So the signs are good, but it’s not a done deal.”
Andy started pacing along the top of the stairs. After a few minutes he checked his watch again and looked over to O’Rourke who shrugged when he saw Andy staring at him. When Andy completed the next circuit and faced O’Rourke, he saw O’Rourke’s expression change as he called out, “Mr Flint!” Andy rushed over to O’Rourke who had been joined by a tall, portly man wearing a dark suit with wide pinstripes. The man’s silver tie had the crest of an elite yacht club precisely positioned. “Mr Flint, this is Mr Oldham.” Oldham held out his hand, revealing his cuff link of a silver sailing boat. Andy found Oldham’s grip to be firm, his hand, unlike Andy’s, dry.
Oldham spoke, “The DA has dismissed the case against you and all charges have been dropped. There will be no further action taken against you.” Andy gave a sigh of relief. He felt a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. “There is one condition, which I’ve already said you will agree to.”
“What?”
“You’re banned from the bar, permanently. You go there in two weeks, two months, two years or twenty and you’ll be arrested for breaching your ‘no trespass notice’.” Oldham reached into his briefcase and handed Andy the ‘Trespass’ paperwork. “This explains it all, consider yourself notified,” Oldham closed his briefcase, then smiled at Andy, “Goodbye Mr
Flint, I hope our paths have no need to cross again.” Oldham then moved, with surprising speed, down the court steps just as a dark limo pulled up. He climbed into the rear of the car and, as soon as he’d closed the door, the car pulled out into the morning traffic. Time is money!
Andy turned to O’Rourke and offered his hand which O’Rourke took and shook firmly, “Thank you for everything. This all could have gone badly for me.”
“You’ve got some supporters out there. Don’t let them down and remember my advice. Stay off the booze.” Andy expected O’Rourke to head down the steps with him, instead O’Rourke turned and headed inside the courthouse. Andy took a deep breath then made his way down the steps towards the taxi rank, firmly gripping his overnight bag. The cab dropped him a few parks down from his apartment as his street was unusually busy for mid-morning on a week day. Andy paid his fare and included a generous tip. Someone else might as well share good fortune today. Things are looking up!
He entered his apartment. His alarm system didn’t chirp as expected. Odd. I’m sure I set it when I left. He jumped as he noticed a figure standing in his lounge. It was Dortman. He doesn’t look happy. Then, Hans appeared from his kitchen with a glass of water. What’s he doing here? His question immediately answered when Dortman stepped to one side, and Hans handed the glass to Ana, who was seated on one of his new dining table chairs. Uh oh!
CHAPTER 29
The sound of the cockpit door closing woke Andy as Dortman re-entered the cabin. Andy could still feel the tension in the cabin. Most of the journey had been made in silence since the meeting in his apartment. “You may want to use the wardrobe and change into more suitable clothing as we’ll be arriving soon. I’ve been told it is minus twelve today, dropping to minus seventeen overnight” Dortman informed them.
Andy turned to see Gamzova, stretching, and Ana, wearing dark glasses and reading a fashion magazine. Hans was seated alone near the rear of the aircraft, looking out of the window.
“Do you want to change first?” Andy asked Gamzova.
“No, you go ahead, I need to stretch first,” she replied.
Andy stood and headed for the wardrobe, locked the door behind him and quickly changed into warm clothes. When he returned to his seat, Gamzova stood and took Andy’s place in the wardrobe.
The aircraft had started its descent by the time Gamzova returned wearing her warm clothing. Less than five minutes later, they were landing in Saint Petersburg and taxiing to the executive jet area positioned discretely to the far side of the busy airport.
Andy looked out at the deep snow and, as they came to a stop, he saw a Kremlin supplied car and driver along with two silver BMW’s waiting alongside the ground crew. As the aircraft’s engines powered down, the ground crew scurried out from the warmth of their vehicles to attended to the aircraft.
“I requested the Kremlin to provide a car,” Gamzova said by way of an explanation, “I didn’t expect Mrs Martirossian to be so generous.”
Dortman smiled politely, “Thank you for your consideration, however, there are three of us and we have a lot of luggage.”
The co-pilot entered the cabin from the cockpit and opened the main cabin door just as a set of metal steps were pushed against the jet and locked into position. Goosebumps formed on Andy’s skin as cold air rushed into the cabin. Dortman was first out of his seat, “We are staying at the Martirossian residence in Petrogradskaya Storona. As soon as you have any news. You must call us.”
At the top of the steps, before he exited the aircraft, Andy looked back at Ana, who no longer wore the dark glasses, her eyes looked red and puffy, as though she’d been crying. Hans was helping her into a large fur coat. Andy quickly descended the steps and climbed into the waiting Kremlin car; Gamzova following only seconds behind him.
***
The Government car sped through the streets, its flashing red light warned motorists to move out of the way and ensured the traffic police would not stop it. As they arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel, a Concierge, dressed in a heavy woollen grey coat, leather gloves and a top hat, stepped forward from the warmth of the entrance. The Concierge opened the door of the car for Luba who quickly stepped from the car.
“I’ll arrange for your bags to be taken to your room,” he touched the tip of his hat as Gamzova passed him. Andy stepped from the car, placed his backpack over his right shoulder and firmly gripped his overnight bag in his hand as he headed for the entrance. A Bell Boy, not dressed for the winter, wearing a shirt and waistcoat moved quickly to the waiting car to collect Gamzova’s holdall.
Inside the hotel, Andy was impressed by the airy marble lobby with its high vaulted ceilings and welcoming warmth. As he approached the reception desk, he stopped and removed his overcoat. He saw Gamzova speaking with the receptionist and heard the receptionist confirm their reservations were in order and their rooms ready. When the receptionist asked for a credit card to complete the check-in process Andy handed over his for the receptionist to take a copy. The receptionist returned his card with his electronic room key.
“You have adjoining rooms on the Executive Level on the sixth floor. Breakfast is from six-thirty until nine. The restaurant will be opening for dinner shortly. May I make reservation for you?”
Andy returned his card to his wallet and kept his room key in his hand. “No, I think we’ll eat out this evening, thank you,” Andy replied.
“Please enjoy your stay. If you have any requests, or need to reach us, dial one from the telephone in your room.”
Andy nodded, turned and headed for the ornate lifts. The receptionist handed Gamzova her electronic room key and she joined Andy waiting for the lift. Once inside Andy tapped his room key against the security panel and selected the sixth floor. He turned and looked at his scruffy reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. The doors closed and for the first time in hours they were alone. “Let’s eat out tonight and share what we’ve learnt.”
“Okay. I’ll call and arrange for a car.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d prefer to move around on foot or use cabs. We can use the Government cars in Moscow where the traffic is heavier and we need the security.” The lift doors opened silently, Andy gestured for Gamzova to lead the way. Their rooms were just a short distance from the elevator. They reached Andy’s room first, he turned to Gamzova. “I’ll come and get you at a quarter-to-seven,” Andy said as he used his electronic access card in the security lock. The lock gave a quiet beep, a green light blinked and the door’s locking mechanism released.
“See you at a quarter-to-seven,” Gamzova replied walking past as he opened the door.
Andy stepped into the reception area of his suite and inserted his room key into the card holder on the wall as the door closed. The lights came on and the hum of the aircon heating stepped up a notch. He walked through the reception room and passed a large red couch with intricate gold embroidery and ornate wooden legs which faced a large, original painting of the Winter Palace.
The living area had tea and coffee making facilities on a sideboard along one wall and a highly polished hand-crafted wooden table with two matching hand-carved chairs next to a large window. To the right he saw a casual seating area with two more red couches facing each other separated by a glass topped coffee table. Beyond the casual seating area was a writing desk with complimentary stationery and a matching leather chair.
Andy moved into the bedroom and tossed his overnight bag onto the large king-sized bed which had many pillows together with notes on which to choose for his favored sleeping position. I’d never even thought about this! The bedding was suitably masculine and felt luxurious to his touch. He placed his backpack on the floor next to the side he usually slept on.
Then he went to check out the bathroom. He walked in to find a stand-alone bath with graceful legs holding it off the floor. A walk-in shower, with multiple jets, large enough for two people. Well at least I get to choose! There were two sinks each with its own mirror. A range of comp
limentary soaps, gels and hair products were found neatly lined up in the cabinet under the sinks, along with a whole load of accessories … he noted that even the toilet paper was embossed with the hotel’s insignia. I could spend weeks in here and never set foot outside the suite! He knew he would not be allowed to do this – he was here on business – so he chose a revitalising shower gel, stripped off and walked into the shower. Time to wash the travel out and have some luxury while I do so.
***
At quarter-to-seven, Andy donned his heavy winter coat, grabbed his electronic room key and made his way down the corridor to Gamzova’s room. Andy knocked once and Gamzova opened the door almost immediately, as if she had been waiting and was about to come searching for him. “Good you’ve showered and changed too, I’m ready to eat,” Gamzova said as she stepped into the corridor and walked quickly to the elevators, “I’ve made reservation at the Pushka Inn. It’s not far from the hotel.” You must be hungry!
They stepped out of the hotel into the freezing night air; both took a sharp intake of breath and shivered, before pulling their coats closer to their skins in an attempt to keep the cold out. For extra measure Andy thrust his hands deep into his pockets to keep them warm. He found the cold helped sharpen his mind and enable him to focus. Jeez, it’s freezing!
It had been many years since Andy had been in Saint Petersburg and the walk through the busy evening streets brought back memories from a lifetime ago. On reaching the Pushka Inn, Andy climbed the steps first and held the door for Gamzova, he had fleeting waves of different emotions. Initially of sadness, at how his life had been for the last ten years, then happiness, at his recent change in good fortune, and finally, joy at travelling the world in the company of an intelligent woman who, he could see, would go far if she stayed out of trouble.
The Maître d’ approached Gamzova. He had a good fifteen years on Andy, sporting a full head of silver hair and a beaming smile. The Maître d’ opened his arms in a welcoming gesture in readiness to embrace Gamzova. “We have a reservation for two at seven, under Gamzova, FSB,” she informed him.