‘Hi, Connor, thanks for the en-route update,’ she said. ‘Is Little Bear safe in his cave now?’
‘Yes,’ Connor replied, glancing back through the doorway at Feliks. The boy still sat with his head bowed over the hot chocolate. ‘But I think he’s suffering from shock.’
‘I’m sure he’ll recover. How are you doing?’
‘All the better for hearing your voice,’ he admitted, and could almost sense Charley smile at the other end of the line. ‘You can tell Amir his XT torch makes a fine weapon.’
‘You did well to deal with four hostiles. And on ice!’
‘It was certainly a challenge. I just wish you’d seen Jason’s counter-attack.’ Connor laughed. ‘He was the most dangerous thing on that rink. A human cannonball! To be honest, I don’t even know if Jason was intentionally trying to hit the attackers or not. It seemed more luck than skill!’
‘The Principal’s safe, and so are you. That’s all that matters,’ said Charley. ‘I spoke with the colonel, by the way. He insists he didn’t know about Feliks’s former bodyguard. But he admits there are a few holes in the information Mr Malkov provided.’
‘A few holes?’ exclaimed Connor. ‘The shooting of a bodyguard seems a pretty big hole to me! You mean there are more surprises to come?’
‘Hopefully not,’ replied Charley. ‘Oh, and the colonel denies ever saying the size of the contract is worth the risk of a buddyguard or two. He insists that he said it is never worth the risk.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘I don’t know what to believe at the moment.’ There was a pause on the line. ‘How’s Jason?’ Although her tone had lightened, Connor sensed she meant something more than this.
‘He’s OK. Why?’
‘Well, Ling wants to talk with him and he’s not answering her texts.’
‘Oh … I think he’s just focused on the mission,’ Connor replied, wondering why he was covering for his partner, especially when he owed more loyalty to Ling than he did to Jason.
‘Give him a prod to call her, will you? Ling’s still really upset. You know, after their split. I think she wants to make up.’
‘Sure,’ said Connor. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes, in your update, you mentioned additional support in dealing with the hostiles? What additional support?’
‘We had help from a school friend of Feliks’s,’ he explained. ‘A girl called Anastasia.’
‘What’s her background?’
‘She’s new at the school. A boarder on a music scholarship. Really nice girl with … well, some surprising talents.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s very switched on, has fast reactions in a crisis and seriously impressive self-defence skills,’ Connor explained, smiling at the memory of her pounding her attacker into the ice.
‘I hope you’re not falling for this Russian girl!’ said Charley, her tone sharp but teasing. ‘Remember, I’ve some seriously impressive self-defence skills too! Perhaps you’d like a reminder?’
Connor laughed. ‘No, thanks. I’ve witnessed them in full force on Richie. Don’t worry, Charley, I’ve only got eyes for you. But I am interested in Anastasia for another reason.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ve been thinking … she has the potential to make an excellent Buddyguard recruit.’
‘Really?’ said Charley. ‘Well, if that’s the case, I’ll dig a little deeper into Anastasia’s background before you recommend her to Colonel Black.’
‘Hey, Jason, hold up!’ called Connor, running down the hallway as his partner headed towards the mansion’s personal gym. To keep themselves fit for the job they worked out daily, enjoying the state-of-the-art weights room with computerized running machines, indoor pool and sauna and steam room. ‘We still need to debrief after today’s attack.’
Jason stopped and turned, a towel slung over his shoulder. ‘Debrief what? Principal’s safe and sound.’
Connor nodded. ‘True, but we need to debrief our handling of the situation.’
Jason shrugged. ‘There was a situation. We dealt with it. Job done.’
‘It wasn’t exactly textbook perfect,’ said Connor. ‘In the park, you didn’t always stay on point. That meant the Principal was unprotected. And you couldn’t ice-skate. You should have mentioned that, so we could plan our protection better.’
‘Hey, my skating was good enough to take out two heavies,’ said Jason, stabbing a finger at Connor’s chest. ‘Besides, you overreacted to the funfair shooting gallery.’
Connor held up his hands. ‘Fair enough, which is why we need to debrief before I put in our official report to HQ.’
Jason rested a hand on Connor’s shoulder and smiled. ‘Listen, mate, you go ahead and do the debrief yourself. You’re in command on the ground. I’m just a lowly 2 i/c.’
He strode off towards the gym again. Connor fumed. Jason was playing him for a fool – both disrespecting his authority and using it to skive off his duties.
‘There’s also the matter of you and Anastasia,’ said Connor pointedly. ‘Perhaps I should mention that in the report?’
The implied threat stopped Jason in his tracks. He shot Connor a glare. ‘What matter?’
‘Come on, Jason.’ Connor sighed, not really wanting an argument with his partner. ‘You’re hitting on her when you know Feliks likes her too. You can’t do that to a Principal. It’s a conflict of interest that will cause issues.’
Jason blinked as if something didn’t quite compute. ‘But Anastasia’s way out of his league.’ He sailed a hand into the air. ‘I mean, way out.’
Connor shrugged. ‘Anastasia doesn’t seem to think so. In fact, she shows more interest in Feliks than in you.’
Jason made a face. ‘Oh, give over! You’re just jealous.’
‘No, I’m not,’ snapped Connor. ‘I’ve got Charley back at base. Talking of which, you’ve got Ling.’
Jason squared up to Connor. ‘Listen, mate, me and Ling split up. So I’m free to do what I want. And, just to be clear, she ended it. Broke my heart. But I’m not going to mope around.’
‘Well, if you’re so upset about breaking up, why haven’t you called her back?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘Yes, it is. I’ve covered for you so far. But Ling is keen to talk to you. Sounds like she wants to make up. What was that argument about anyway?’
Jason crossed his arms and stared at Connor. After a long silence, he said, ‘You!’
Connor frowned. ‘Me?’
‘Yeah, Ling was going on and on about me needing to be nice to you,’ explained Jason, rolling his eyes. ‘That I should accept being 2 i/c to you on this mission. That we should be combining our strengths and not competing all the time. That once I got to know you, then I’d come to respect your skills as a bodyguard. Blah … blah … bl–’
Connor started to laugh.
Jason scowled at him. ‘Why are you laughing?’
‘Because Charley said the exact same things to me about you!’
‘Then you know why me and Ling argued. And why we –’ he pointed to himself and Connor – ‘will always clash. We’re too alike.’
‘We don’t have to clash,’ said Connor, getting exasperated. He clenched his fists, wanting to thump some sense into his partner.
‘Mate, it’s like our arm-wrestling match,’ Jason explained, edging closer. ‘I won, but you won’t accept it. Likewise, you may have won command of this operation, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.’
With that, Jason strode off and disappeared into the gym, leaving Connor furious and frustrated in the hallway. Connor punched the wall with his fist, making a knuckle-sized dent in the plasterwork. It hurt his hand, but he felt a whole lot better for it.
Steam rose in great wafts from the hot coals. The sharp scent of eucalyptus infused the air, clearing the lungs of the two great men who sat sweating on the wooden benches in the banya. Bell-shaped felt hats kept their h
eads cool and protected their hair from the intense heat.
Roman Gurov whipped himself with a bundle of birch branches, getting his blood flowing – and venting his frustration.
‘It’s good to beat the toxins from one’s body, eh?’ said his comrade, who was just a ghost among the wreaths of hot steam.
Roman laid aside the birch branches, savouring the tingle of his lashed skin in the humid heat of the sauna. He just wished it was as easy and pleasurable to get rid of Viktor Malkov.
A fierce prolonged hiss like a nest of vipers cut through the sweltering haze as his comrade ladled another scoop of water on to the glowing coals.
‘Tell me, how did your latest move against the Black King work out?’ he asked, dropping the ladle into its bucket and leaning back against the spruce-panelled wall to let the heat roll over him.
Roman let out a heavy sigh as the scorching wave of steam hit him. ‘The pawn’s capture was thwarted by unexpected resistance.’
His comrade gave him a hard stare. ‘Unexpected?’
‘Our assets were defeated by a bunch of kids!’ explained Roman, his expression seething as red-hot as the coals in the stove.
His comrade raised an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘And who are these kids?’
‘According to my source, the target’s second cousins, although we’re having trouble verifying the family connection. Also a girl, a friend from the target’s school.’
‘Yet she too took out a trained asset?’
Roman nodded. ‘The man can barely walk.’
‘Impressive,’ said his comrade, picking up his own bundle of birch branches. ‘Still, the kidnap attempt will have got the Black King’s attention.’
‘Yes, it did. But it’s only hardened his resolve!’ Roman muttered irritably. ‘He’s using the failed attack as a sympathy vote and rallying cry for his cause.’
His comrade began to lash himself, leaving a rash of red scratches across his broad back. ‘So, what’s your plan now?’
Roman barely paused to consider this. ‘Kill the king.’
His comrade stopped whipping himself and shook his head in mild disapproval. ‘Don’t want to make him a martyr.’
‘What do you suggest then?’
‘Better to kill a man’s reputation,’ he replied, standing and stretching out his back. ‘Destroy his credibility and you destroy the cause.’
Roman weighed up this option as his comrade stepped out of the sauna, crossed the marble-floored antechamber and dived head first into a plunge pool of ice-cold water. Enduring the sauna’s heat a few minutes longer, Roman thought, But what’s to stop me killing both the man and his reputation?
‘Your bodyguards can’t come in,’ said the maître d’ with an apologetic but unyielding smile.
Viktor frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘House rules,’ replied the slick-haired man, his hooded eyes narrowing in distaste at the dagger tattoo just visible above Lazar’s collar line. He gave Timur an equally derisory glance. With his bulging muscles and semi-automatic pistol barely contained by his jacket, Timur looked like a suited bear and was totally out of place among the elegantly dressed guests at Vivosti, Moscow’s most fashionable and expensive restaurant.
‘They must wait in the lobby,’ insisted the maître d’.
Viktor turned to Lazar and Timur with a shrug. ‘The price of exclusivity, I suppose.’
His two bodyguards grunted, clearly unhappy with the arrangement. But Connor and Jason walked straight into the restaurant unquestioned with Feliks and his father. As the maître d’ escorted their party through the frosted-glass doors and over to their table, Connor saw that Dmitry and his family were already waiting with Anastasia.
Viktor greeted his adviser with a firm handshake, then turned to his other guests. ‘So you must be Anastasia,’ he said warmly, briefly glancing at Feliks in clear approval of his son’s taste. ‘I had no idea Feliks’s friends were so elegant and refined.’
Anastasia’s pale cheeks flushed. ‘It’s a pleasure meeting you too, Mr Malkov. I’ve been looking forward to it.’
‘Viktor – call me Viktor.’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘You’re from the southern provinces, are you not?’
‘No,’ said Anastasia, a frown marking her brow. ‘Why would you think that?’
Viktor shrugged. ‘Your accent sounds southern. I thought you might be from the Rostov region where I began my political career. Anyway, you’re welcome and I’m truly thankful for your assistance at the ice rink.’
‘Oh, it was nothing,’ she replied, lowering her gaze and studying the handbag she clutched.
‘Not according to Connor,’ said Viktor, raising an eyebrow. ‘In fact I’m seriously thinking of hiring you to protect me!’
Anastasia met his eye. ‘Don’t you already have protection?’
‘Yes, but not as deadly as you!’ Viktor laughed. Then he turned to embrace his adviser’s wife, a tall woman with a cascade of golden blonde hair and large drop diamond earrings that hung like glittering chandeliers. ‘Ah, Natasha, so good to see you,’ he said.
Natasha glanced past his shoulder. ‘No date?’
Viktor smiled agreeably. ‘Too busy for romance.’
Natasha tutted in mild disapproval, then directed her attention to Connor and Jason. ‘And who are these fine gentlemen?’ she asked.
‘Feliks’s cousins,’ Viktor replied, stepping aside. ‘Connor and Jason.’
‘Ah, the boys who saved your son. Well, this is my daughter, Tanya,’ said Natasha proudly, introducing a wide-eyed girl with the blonde locks of her mother and the plump lips and pudgy nose of her father.
Tanya smiled shyly and they nodded back. Connor noted no warm greeting passed between her and Feliks, just the weary look of a forced friendship through parents.
Viktor invited them all to sit, offering Anastasia the seat next to his and beside his son. Jason moved swiftly to sit on Feliks’s right-hand side. To Tanya’s obvious delight, Connor took the chair next to hers. But he’d only chosen the seat since – much to his irritation – Jason had stolen prime position beside the Principal. If his partner continued to undermine his authority like this, he’d be forced to raise the issue with the colonel – but he knew that would only worsen the situation between them. Still, his own chair faced the entrance and he had a clear view of the restaurant, making it ideal from a security standpoint.
A waiter presented them with menus and Viktor immediately ordered water, bread, pickles and a bottle of top-brand vodka for the table.
As the others studied their menus, Connor’s eyes swept the room. The restaurant was stylish, with dark woods, granite and glass. A mock waterfall trickled down a neon-lit wall into a tank filled with exotic fish. The eighteen tables were all taken for lunch, waiters slipping like well-oiled machines from guest to guest. Through the frosted glass that separated the lobby from the restaurant, Connor could just make out Lazar and Timur’s bulked-up silhouettes. Although they had to wait in the lobby, at least they could guard the entrance. Connor also identified the fire exit and location of the toilets, as well as the route to the kitchen – just in case they needed a quick escape.
‘Do you need help with the menu?’ Tanya asked, noticing Connor seemed to be staring at it for a long time.
Breaking away from his surveillance of the other guests, Connor shook his head. ‘No, I’m fine. Thanks.’
He took a moment to actually study the menu. Just as Amir had boasted, the contact lens he wore in his right eye instantly translated the Russian into English. The words appeared clearly on the lens’s heads-up-display: Икра … Caviar; Пельмени… Beef Dumplings; Борщ … Beetroot Soup …
As soon as the waiter had taken their orders, Viktor reached for the vodka.
‘Allow me,’ offered Anastasia, taking the bottle and prising open the cap. ‘At home I always pour for my father.’
‘Really?’ said Viktor, with a pleased curl to his lips. ‘He has brought you up well.’
Anastasia selected a shot glass and poured out a measure of the clear liquid, twisting the bottle at the end to prevent drips. Then she served Dmitry and his wife.
‘She could get a job here,’ remarked Dmitry.
‘Oh, I think Anastasia has a great deal more potential,’ replied Viktor, winking at his son.
‘You should raise a toast,’ suggested Anastasia.
‘Agreed. But first let’s get business out of the way,’ said Viktor. ‘Give me some good news, Dmitry.’
Dmitry smiled. ‘I have obtained the permits for the rally.’
‘Wonderful! This will be a momentous day in our country’s history. Have the media been updated?’
Dmitry nodded and the two of them talked a few minutes longer. Then, as Viktor reached for his vodka glass, Connor caught a flicker of movement through the lobby’s frosted glass. Multiple shadows shifted in precise, coordinated yet urgent patterns, all converging on the door.
‘Jason!’ hissed Connor, directing his partner’s attention towards the lobby.
Viktor raised his glass in a toast. ‘To Our Russia!’
‘To Our Russia!’ chimed Dmitry.
Just as they went to down their shots, there came a yell of warning: Lazar’s voice. A group of armed men in black combat gear burst into the restaurant. Guests screamed. Waiters dropped their trays. Connor and Jason both leapt from their seats and grabbed Feliks. They pulled him to the floor, shielding him with their bodies. Connor was glad to see that Anastasia had reacted fast too, diving beneath the table and hiding behind the tablecloth. But Tanya still sat frozen in her seat.
‘Get down!’ Connor hissed at her. But she seemed not to hear. Looking to the fire exit, Connor saw that the gunmen had already covered both entrance and exit. Within seconds their table was surrounded. There was no escape.
‘Viktor Malkov,’ said an iron-faced man, his gun levelled at Viktor’s chest.
It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
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