The Russian's Greed

by Cap Daniels

The sun filtered through the east-facing window of the small hotel room and drew Anya from her sleep.

  Gwynn came from the bathroom with her hair in a towel. “Good morning.”

  Anya rubbed at her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “A quarter to nine, sleepyhead. I talked with the boys already. They’re picking us up on their way to the airport. They’ll be here around nine thirty.”

  “That means I can sleep for another half hour. Try to be quiet.”

  Gwynn turned on the lights and the TV. The French-speaking anchor was reading the morning news.

  Two minutes later, Anya threw back the cover and stomped to the bathroom. She returned with a toothbrush clamped in her grip. “Do you see this?”

  Gwynn looked at the brush. “What are you going to do, brush my teeth for me?”

  “No, I’m going to stab you with it as soon as I can find a way to sharpen it.”

  Gwynn slapped away the weapon and stepped close to Anya. She whispered, “I was thinking this morning while you were sleeping. If they’re paranoid enough to keep our passports and refuse our charms, they’re probably paranoid enough to bug this room. The TV will help mask our voices.”

  “Okay, maybe I will not stab you. Did we say anything incriminating when I came in early this morning?”

  “How should I know? I was barely awake, and you’re the one with the eidetic memory.”

  “Is not eidetic. Is selective photographic.”

  “Whatever. Just get ready to go. There’s a restaurant in the hotel. We can grab some breakfast before they pick us up.”

  * * *

  Breakfast was coffee, Danishes, and fruit.

  “You don’t think they suspect us of being feds, do you?”

  Anya thought about the question. “I do not think so. We would not be here if this is what they believe. I think they are cautious, especially Sascha.”

  Gwynn wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “Speak of the devil . . . They’re here.”

  They left the restaurant and climbed into the Land Rover for the ride back to the airport.

  “Good morning,” Volkov said. “Did you get some rest after your long night at the lab?”

  “Yes, but Gwynn was very rude this morning and turned on French television.”

  He said, “You can get some sleep on the plane.”

  Gwynn tried not to let her fear of Anya sleeping on the plane show on her face. There was no way she’d let her sleep, especially if they had a second “pressurization issue” over the ocean. She laid a hand across Sascha’s shoulder. “Are you coming back to New York with us?”

  “Yes, I have some things to do in the city. I’ll be there for a few days.”

  Gwynn smiled. “Maybe we can spend a little time away from work while you’re there.”

  He met her eyes in the mirror. “I’d like that. We all need an escape from work from time to time.”

  Compared to Sascha’s lab, security at the Yarmouth Airport was nonexistent. Anya recorded every detail of the scene as Volkov handed a metallic change purse to the bulky pilot, who nodded and pocketed the bag that looked minuscule in his enormous hand.

  A fuel truck arrived, and the driver approached the uniformed pilot, who slid a few bills of Canadian cash into his palm. In return, the driver pulled the hose from the jet fuel reel and handed it to the pilot. The oddity of the exchange struck Anya, so she slowed her pace to continue watching the scene unfold. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs into the Hawker, the pilot was beneath the tail of the aircraft. He knelt, pulled the metal change purse from his pocket, and carefully laid it inside the fuel nozzle. He reached above his head, opened the access panel, and removed the fuel cap.

  Making the connection of the nozzle to the filler valve, he tapped on the side of the plane and yelled, “Open up!”

  Anya shot a glance up the stairs to see the second pilot pressing a series of switches on the fueling panel. He looked down the stairs and noticed her. “Tell him the valves are open.”

  Anya leaned down and made eye contact with the muscular pilot. “Valves are open.”

  He gave a nod and opened the valve on the hose, sending jet fuel—and the coin purse—rushing into the ventral tank of the Hawker.

  She climbed the stairs and noticed Gwynn sitting beside Sascha instead of saving the seat for her. Anya chose an empty seat that looked like it would make a perfectly comfortable sleeping nest.

  When Volkov boarded the plane, he, once again, leaned into the cockpit for a thirty-second conversation. This time, though, he pocketed a pair of American passports before making his way to his preferred seat.

  Before they’d leveled in cruise flight, Anya was sleeping like a kitten, and Gwynn was interrogating the scientist under the guise of getting to know him.

  Almost an hour into the flight, the plane bucked as if it were being tossed around inside a washing machine. Anya opened her eyes to see the thick-chested pilot emerge from the cockpit. Gwynn turned in her seat to make eye contact with her, and Anya gave her a little wink.

  The pilot held up both hands. “There’s no need to worry. We’re experiencing a little turbulence, but air traffic control has just cleared us to descend a little early. We should be back in smooth air in no time, but if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like you to put on your seatbelts nice and snug for the duration of the flight.

  Less dramatic than loss of cabin pressure, but equally effective to explain an early descent and seatbelts, Anya thought as she poised to defend her friend and partner, should it become necessary. Her hand slid instinctually to the four-inch fighting knife concealed in her belt. It was still there and ready for use if muscle-boy fly-guy opened the door again.

  Gwynn dug her fingernails into the arms of the luxurious seat as the turbulence worsened in their descent.

  Sascha pulled her hand from the armrest and wrapped it in his own. “It’s okay. It’s just a little rough air. We’ll be fine in a few minutes. These pilots are excellent.”

  Gwynn squeezed his hand. “I’m just a nervous flyer, that’s all.”

  Anya made a show of tightening her belt, but when she was certain no one was watching, she freed the buckle, leaving it to look as if it were secure. Should Captain America come back out of the cockpit with the intention of tossing her partner into the ocean, every advantage would be crucial.

  As the descent continued, the bumps lessened until the air was smooth, and Gwynn released her crushing grasp of Sascha’s hand. Anya pressed the blade back into its sheath beneath her belt until she felt the click.

  The wheels kissed the runway back at Teterboro, and the pilots taxied the Hawker to Volkov’s hangar, where a customs officer waited to board the plane. The inspection that followed was a bit more thorough than the cursory glance at Yarmouth, but the officer dug no deeper than unzipping a pair of overnight bags and asking, “Does anyone have anything to declare?”

  Volkov’s private fuel truck pulled to the rear of the plane, and the driver connected a nozzle to the fill valve on the ventral tank. Seconds later, he closed the valve, stood, and returned to his truck, where the waiting pilot collected the metallic change purse in a plastic bag.

  31

  SOSTOYANIYE SERDTSA

  (HEART CONDITION)

  The debriefing conducted by Special Agent White was unlike anything Anya had experienced. “We’re on the verge of making the biggest non-drug-related bust of my career. We’ve got one more crucial step to make, and as long as Anya doesn’t blow it, we’ve got these guys nailed to the wall.”

  Anya said, “I promise I will not steal anymore shotguns or break anyone’s nose this time.”

  “Break all the noses you want, Treasury Agent Fulton. Just make sure you put the real diamonds in Volkov’s hand before the sun goes down tomorrow.”

  “Is this the plan? You will make arrest when Volkov has diamonds?”

  “You bet it is, Red Sonja. The second you deliver the real diamonds, we’re crashing the gate, and everybody’s g
oing to jail, including you. I want you to put up a fight, too. Don’t go quietly. The SWAT team may rough you up a little, but Volkov needs to believe you’re on his team the whole time.”

  “In this case, am I allowed to hurt people?”

  “You can get a little rough with them. They like a challenge, but don’t pull a knife on them. They’ll drill you full of holes if you draw a weapon.”

  * * *

  Anya’s attire wasn’t blue jeans and a sweatshirt when she arrived at the office the next morning.

  “You look spectacular, like the gorgeous Russian princess you are.”

  Volkov couldn’t tear his eyes away from the skirt and sweater combination Gwynn had insisted Anya wear to make the diamond swaps.

  “Spasibo, Viktor. I like when you are pleased.”

  “I can’t imagine any man being displeased with you. Are you certain you understand the task today?”

  She nodded with confidence. “Yes, I will exchange each of your stones for the six diamonds in the shops if they have not sold since I saw them two days ago.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Anya raised an eyebrow. “There is change of plan?”

  “Yes. Wait here.” He turned for the vault and returned a moment later with a stack of cash and the metal change purse. “Here are the diamonds. You’ll want to sort them so you don’t make a mistake during the exchange.”

  “I understand, but why do I need all this money?”

  Viktor tapped his fingers on the banded bills. “This is contingency money in case someone gets suspicious. If you believe you have been caught, immediately purchase the diamond but negotiate the price. Five percent is reasonable, but first, ask for ten percent off.”

  “I will not get caught. This is for certain.”

  Viktor smiled. “Even the best get caught sooner or later, my angel. Take the money. We cannot afford to have you discovered. Diamonds in the city are a small community, and that community talks incessantly. This is a temporary game at best. Knowing when to get out is the key, but before that time comes, you and I will make a fortune together.”

  Anya slid the cash into her purse and separated the stones in the order of the shops she would visit. “Speaking of making a fortune together, we have not discussed my percentage.”

  Viktor lowered his chin. “You agreed to a set rate of five thousand dollars per week.”

  Anya handed her purse to him. “You are correct. This was our agreement, so I will go back inside office and continue matching stones. This is what we agreed.”

  Volkov waggled a finger. “I should’ve known. You’re a shrewd one. What is your proposal?”

  Anya reclaimed her purse and counted ninety thousand dollars in banded bills inside. “I will bring to you six diamonds at end of day, and I will keep money. If I have to make purchase, I will keep nothing.”

  “No one can exchange six diamonds in the same day without getting caught at least once. There’s no chance of you keeping that money, but I’ll agree to your terms just to teach you a lesson.”

  The more courteous driver held the door for her, and Viktor gave her a peck on the cheek for good luck. “I will see you in a few hours. Oh, and just in case you get any ideas about running off with my diamonds and my cash, don’t forget how accidents can happen. Poor Veronique.”

  The longing to break his neck was almost impossible to resist, but instead, she bowed her head in submission and slid onto the rear seat of the Bentley.

  The warehouse door opened, allowing them to pull onto the street before it quickly closed behind them.

  “If you wouldn’t mind,” Anya said, “I must go to my apartment before you take me to Diamond District. I have small medical condition, and I did not take medicine this morning. I was so excited for today.”

  The driver looked up in the mirror and sighed. “Mr. Volkov made it clear that I was to drop you at Forty-Seventh and Sixth and nowhere else.”

  “Then we must go back inside so I can explain to him about my heart condition.”

  The driver checked his watch. “You’re just going to run straight up, grab the meds, and right back down, right?”

  “Yes, I promise I will only be a minute.”

  He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “If he finds out, we’re both dead, so don’t hang me out to dry.”

  “I will not, I promise.

  “Me neither, but you can’t tell the boss. Oh, and how ’bout you leave your purse in the car? You know, just for a little insurance for me.”

  She gave him the smile she’d practiced endlessly in the woods outside Moscow when she learned to turn her body into the bait no man could resist.

  Traffic was heavy, but they made the drive to Times Square in fifteen minutes. Anya didn’t wait for him to open the door. She bolted from the back seat and up the stairs with her purse tucked beneath her arm.

  The driver rolled down the window and yelled, “Hey! The purse!”

  She ignored him and continued through the door and into the elevator. When she returned to the car, she slid onto the seat. “I am sorry. It is habit for me to always keep purse under my arm in city.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, “but only ’cause you’re back. I just wanted a little insurance policy to make sure you weren’t going to rabbit on me. It’s all good now. Did you get your medicine?”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  “Yeah, my sister’s got a heart thing, too. Vitribu-something or another. I don’t know. But she takes a pill every day.”

  “Same for me. Thank you again for making the stop.”

  She stepped from the car at Forty-Seventh and Sixth with everything she needed tucked beneath her arm. When she walked into the first shop, she did a double take when she saw Special Agent Johnathon Johnny-Mac McIntyre leaning against the counter and talking with one of the brokers. He immediately looked away from the leggy blonde wearing the skirt she thought would get the attention she deserved.

  She spotted the gentleman who’d shown her the eighty-thousand-dollar diamond two days before and gave him a little wave.

  He blushed and held up a hand. “I see you’ve come back. Your stone is still available, but a couple came in here last night and fell in love with it. It may not be here much longer if you don’t grab it today.”

  Anya pulled a chair to the glass case. “Let me take one more look at it, please.”

  Instead of pulling the entire tray, the man plucked the stone with his tweezers and offered it to her. She reached up, took the tweezers from his hand, and stared at the broker.

  “Ah, forgive me,” he said. “I almost forgot. Here’s a loupe.” He handed her the magnifier and waited patiently for her to examine the stone.

  As she studied the facets, Johnny-Mac dropped the loupe he’d been using. As it bounced across the top of the glass case, he made a show of dropping the tweezers and diamond. This gave Anya the diversion she needed to make her first exchange. The trade happened too fast for even the security cameras to catch, and she handed the lab-created stone back to the broker as she pocketed the authentic, natural diamond.

  “How much did you say it cost? I am sorry, but I cannot remember.”

  He gave the stone a look through his loupe. “It is a beautiful diamond. I’m sure you know quality when you see it. Since there is other interest in the stone, it’s risky for me to discount it for you.”

  She laid a hand across his wrist. “But I saw it first.”

  “Yes, you did, so because of that, it’s sixty-five for you. But only today. If you walk away, I have to rescind the offer.”

  She smiled. “It’s a fifty-five-thousand-dollar diamond, and I have cash.”

  He recoiled. “I’m sorry, but sixty-five is the best I can do.”

  She shrugged, stood, and walked from the shop. The pen camera protruding from Johnny-Mac’s pocket captured a barely perceptible wink and nod from the Russian.

  Five more shops yielded nearly identical results with Johnny-Mac present for the firs
t, third, and sixth. Other agents masquerading as customers in the three remaining shops captured the video evidence the Justice Department needed, and Anya never came close to being caught by any of the brokers. Her hands moved like lightning as she exchanged stone after stone with Sascha’s near-perfect replicas.

  This time, the driver was waiting at Fifth Avenue and Forty-Seventh with the rear door held open. “I hope you had a pleasant day of shopping.”

  “I did,” she said as she situated herself on the rear seat. “It was perfectly delightful. I am sorry you had to wait for me all day.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “Mr. Volkov pays me well.”

  “I am sure he does.”

  Approaching the warehouse, Anya noticed a telephone service van parked thirty yards down the street from the entrance. Beyond the van, a pair of traffic cones stood to eliminate any unwanted visitors from turning onto the street. As the driver made the turn into the warehouse, Anya saw the eyes and salt-and-pepper hair of Supervisory Special Agent Ray White in the cracked mirror of the van.

  As the door closed behind the car when they pulled into the warehouse, Anya turned just in time to see a fiber-optic camera lens being slid beneath the rubber seal of the heavy door.

  32

  SNOVA PROPAL

  (MISSING AGAIN)

  Supervisory Special Agent Ray White keyed the microphone on his two-way radio. “The clock is running. I need everybody on their toes. When we hit it, we hit hard, and everybody comes out alive. Call your positions.”

  “Entry Team is go.”

  “Commo is go.”

  “EMS is go.”

  “Legal is go.”

  “Perimeter is no go.”

  White keyed up again. “Stand by. Perimeter, say condition.”

  “Perimeter is no go. There’s a garbage truck broken down in the alley on the southeast corner. We can’t get in position.”

  “Roger, stand by, Perimeter. Legal, Command-One.”

  “Go for Legal.”

  White said, “Can I move that garbage truck by force?”

  The attorney from the Southern District of New York said, “Stand by, Command. We’re checking.”