As she looked at him, she realized that for Ivan, she would do just about anything. All he had to do was ask.
***
After the money was transferred to Smirnov by Dmitry’s people, the phone call from Smirnov’s camp came. The boss wanted to meet. He was feeding right into Dmitry’s hands and Dmitry right into his. The evening had an ominous feeling to it, even despite its dazzling beauty.
As Dmitry emerged from the hotel escorted by Smirnov’s men, he felt both vulnerable and empowered. Flanked by five brooding mafia types in dark suits and dark shades at least a foot shorter than he, Dmitry allowed them to place him in the back of a white Land Rover in front of the hotel.
Even though they were supposed to be intimidating with their barely-hidden weapons, it was Dmitry that caused the unease.
Filthy, unshaved and in a dirty pair of jeans and a hoodie, he looked like more like the man who had recently walked out of a prison and committed a mass homicide than a billionaire.
Deafly quiet and watching everyone, he slipped inside the car and widened his stance, making one man have to ride in the car behind them.
Square-shouldered and stealthy, he sat with his legs open and his hands comfortably in front of him.
The men could not help but stare at him, marveling at the remarkable likeness that the stranger shared with the boss. They had the same eyes, the same hair, the same height and the same killer stare that nearly always preceded mayhem.
However, Dmitry had no interest in impressing Smirnov with suits and swagger tonight. And he knew that by the time that he laid eyes on him again, he would already know what was about to happen.
Total anarchy.
Prior to the car pulling up to pick him up, Dmitry had already instructed Davyd to stay put there and keep things looking as though everything was normal until just the right time. That had made Davyd even more uncomfortable. He went everywhere with his liege, even into the depths of hell. It was his job to protect him, to ensure his safety even over his own life. But Dmitry would not allow it today.
“The time will come for you to prove yourself, brat. Right now, I need you here,” Dmitry had said to Davyd, patting his dear old friend on the back.
“Who will protect you?” Davyd asked.
“God, if he is willing,” Dmitry had answered with a smile. “And if he won’t then, there is nothing you can do anyway.”
He had left Davyd up in the suite with his men, forced to wait it out-a horrid torture. But Dmitry knew that this was one time that he had to leave his men behind and go into the darkness alone.
However, one thing that Smirnov did not anticipate was that Dmitry knew exactly where he was going. Khalid had purposefully informed him of their exact location, even though he knew what the boy would do. An ambush was more than likely, it was fore surely coming. Though Dmitry was not sure why his new ally had given rise to the change of the guard. Maybe it was because the old man had a son as well, and he knew if Smirnov had no regard for his own children, then he would definitely have no regard for Vladimir. Maybe Khalid wanted more of the action or maybe the old man was simply tired of the unneeded blood baths and continued reign of terror. Whatever had provoked him to give him the information, Dmitry was grateful to Khalid and would remember the favor when the time came.
“You have to put on this,” a man sitting in the passenger seat of the Land Rover said, passing Dmitry a black bag for his head.
“I’m not putting that on,” Dmitry said, looking at the bag.
“This is not option,” the man pushed.
“I know it is not an option,” Dmitry snapped. “I’m not putting a fucking bag over my head. “Fuck off,” Dmitry said, sitting his head back.
“You put bag on or we put it on for you,” the man answered, turning around in his seat. He swallowed hard at the sight of Dmitry, clenching his wide jaw and glaring at him like he was ready to bite his head off.
“Try,” Dmitry said with a smile. “And I’ll snap your neck and turn this truck over. I’m no suka. You can try, little errand boy, but you will not succeed. And your boss will be very angry if the deal does not go down. Your choice. Your fucking funeral,” Dmitry said, locking his eyes on the man.
The man knew Dmitry was serious. He looked over at the man driving the car. “Chto vy dumaete ?” he asked his colleague. (What do you think?)
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Dmitry answered. “I’m not doing it.”
“Kakaya raznitsa, sdelatʹ inache?” the driver said, hunching his shoulders. (What difference does it make?)
The man looked at Dmitry one last time and turned around, knowing that he had been punked out, but he also knew that he had come within an inch of defending his own life. The bodyguard smiled as he turned his head, knowing that in time he would get the chance to kill the rich bastard, maybe even tonight. So his friend was right. What difference did it make? They had patted him down for guns, trackers or phones. Dmitry was alone, unarmed and unprotected. Plus, he didn’t know where he was going. He could look out the window all he wanted. His ass would still be his at the end of all of this.
The drive was short and before Dmitry knew it, they were pulling up exactly where Khalid had said. The limestone plant appeared to be empty and dark from the outside, but from the inside, it was guarded by several men carrying automatic weapons.
Entering the gate, they drove to the loading dock of the dilapidated factory and got out.
“I see him,” Arie said as he looked through her scope.
Dmitry stepped out and looked south into the darkness. He could not see his men, but he knew that Ivan was there watching.
“This way,” the bodyguard who was itching to kill Dmitry said, pointing with his gun up the staircase to the only door.
“Do you have a cigarette?” Dmitry asked as he walked up the stairs in front of the men.
“Da,” one of them answered, reaching into his pocket.
“I want one smoke before I go in,” Dmitry said, standing at the top of the staircase. He ran his hand through his blonde locks.
“One cigarette and then you go in with boss,” the man said, passing Dmitry a cigarette and a light.
Dmitry hated cigarettes, but slipped it in between his lips and lit it. Taking a puff on it, he clasped it in between his index finger and his thumb and raised his other three fingers. Then stretched his left hand out.
Ivan was already looking through the scope by then and shook his head.
“Eight minutes,” Ivan said aloud to his team. “Let’s move closer for the take. We don’t have much time.”
Finishing his cigarette, Dmitry threw down the butt on the ground and stepped on it. “Ready,” he said with a smile.
One of the bodyguards opened the door and allowed the rest of the men, including Dmitry to go inside.
Chapter Eight
The limestone plant had be retrofitted inside and transformed into a germ-free white lab. The entire place was lit up inside by large halogen lights hanging down on the sterile surroundings to illuminate the various workstations and divided by transparent glass partitions for the scientists who were working on the NightStar project.
Bodyguards stood post high above on a suspended walkway, where they were able to look down on the workers and in the bottom far corner was a control center where security watched on several monitors all of the movements both on the inside and outside of the building.
Dmitry was brought inside by the bodyguards with him and walked through the main entrance into the center of the building, where a make-shift board room had been set up.
As Dmitry made his way to the room, he saw Smirnov and Khalid waiting for him, sitting and talking to one another. They both looked up when the door opened and Dmitry was escorted inside. Smirnov had a smirky smile, but Khalid had a death stare.
“Gentlemen,” Dmitry said, taking a seat before instructed.
“Glad you could make it,” Smirnov said, narrowing his stare on his son. He picked up his cup
of coffee and sipped it slowly, looking down at the table, obviously in thought, then sat the cup back down and smacked his lips. “Well now, since we’re all here, why don’t we begin,” Smirnov said, looking over at Khalid, who said nothing but did raise his brow.
“First thing first, thank you for your investment into the NightStar project,” Smirnov said, pushing up to the table. He placed his large, cold hands on the shiny wood and looked over Dmitry. “I hope that you also have the papers appointing me to the Hutton Industries board.”
“I do,” Dmitry said, pulling the papers from the inside of his gray hoodie. But before he pushed them across the table to Smirnov he stopped.
“How do I know that when I pass these over to you and you sign them, that you won’t kill me?”
Smirnov laughed aloud. “Where’s your trust, my boy? Don’t forget that you are my blood.”
“I wasn’t aware that that counted for much,” Dmitry said, raising his brow and placing the paper in front of him.
Smirnov looked at the paper and then back at Dmitry. He chuckled deviously under his breath. “That paper may be the only thing that keeps you alive.”
“Well, that doesn’t exactly evoke trust,” Dmitry said, putting his hand on the paper.
“Did you really come all this way to ask questions, or did you come here to make a deal, boy?” Smirnov asked.
Dmitry twisted up his lips. “I just have a couple of questions first, and then I’ll be better able to answer that question.”
“Alright,” Smirnov said, entertaining Dmitry for the moment.
“NightStar is nuclear, correct?”
“Da,” Smirnov answered snidely.
“And unsanctioned?”
“Da.”
“And untraceable?”
“That’s the whole point.”
“To go to the largest bidder, who could even be Russian enemies, English enemies?”
“They could be fucking American enemies for all I care. This is about supreme profit and power. No one is doing what we are doing. I’ve hired the best and brightest scientists in the world. When they are done, NightStar could very well insight World War III or save the world entirely. I don’t really give two shits as long as I get paid.”
Dmitry looked at Khalid and suddenly understood why he had chosen to turn on his old friend. The man had gone mad.
“So, this project is about the highest bidder.”
“Exactly.” Smirnov frowned. “You behave as if it bothers you. What do you care? You’re a rat from the gutters with no political ties. I’m surprised that you can even read with the limited education that you’ve received. This is high as you can go, my boy. I’m the pinnacle for you.”
Dmitry shook his head. “You’re right about that.”
“So, what are these questions about then? What difference does it make? You’re not wealthy enough to lead this, you’re just wealthy enough to become an investor. Hutton is just the tip of the iceberg. Once we move into the second phase of the project, then we’ll have everyone from the middle east to Africa involved. Don’t think too highly of yourself. Be glad that I’m letting you in on this at all.”
“Well, why do you need Hutton Industries?”
“Because it’s quite difficult to buy legitimacy. You should know. You had to fuck a cancerous dinosaur to get your bones.” Smirnov laughed. “You are smart. I’ll give you that. I just don’t know how you managed it. I’ve never fucked at thing older than twenty-two.”
Dmitry bit down his anger. “I did what I had to do,” he said without emotion. “So you’re at the beginning stages now. There really has been no major motions.”
“I have the scientists. They are willing to work for me. They are doctors of fortune. They understand that working for the government will only get them locked up in a lab, maybe even killed afterward. There would be no recognition and absolutely no riches. But working for me, they get the high life.” He said with an exaggerated smile.
“And a heads-up of where the NightStar won’t be when it detonates,” Dmitry added.
Smirnov shook his head and pursed his lips together. “Do you know what happens to a star when it dies?”
“An explosion, I imagine.”
“Not just an explosion. Stars that are greater than eight solar masses when they are born usually end their lives in a gigantic supernova, one of the brightest events in the universe. After this violent and dramatic death, they leave behind a neutron star or black hole and that’s just what this little project is going to leave on the poor bastards that it’s detonated on. The NightStar project is actually named for my lead scientist, Dr. Hamilton McKnight. It’s his research and his desire to explore or add on if you will to Einstein’s Atom Bomb, along with his desire to be filthy rich that has led us to this point. Thank the heavens that he’s more interested in hot young women and cocaine that he ever was with the Nobel Prize.”
“Is he here now?”
“Why? Would you like to meet him?”
“Of course. He sounds like a genius and he’s going to make me a very rich man.”
Smirnov twisted up his lips into another evil grin. “McKnight is always here, under lock and key with the rest of the team. I’ll introduce him to you after our meeting. Now, back to the appointment to the board.”
Dmitry smiled and pushed the paper towards him. “Here it is. Everything that I promised.” His eyes locked on his father.
Smirnov’s long hand reached across the table and took the black linen folder, carefully opened it and read it quietly. The sides of his weathered, tan mouth slowly pulled into a grin. Nearly in slow motion, he looked up from the paper at Dmitry in approval.
“So it is,” Smirnov said, passing the folder to Khalid. “Put this away for later,” he said to his old friend.
Dmitry looked down at his watch. Eight minutes on the dot.
Smirnov instantly picked up on it. “Do you have somewhere to be?” he asked, dropping his smug grin.
“No,” Dmitry said slowly. He grinned back.
Just then the quietness of the meeting was sorely interrupted. A loud, deafening boom followed by a powerful eruption exploded at the dock door, knocking the men who stood at guarding the area back several feet into the wall.
“What the fuck?” Smirnov said, pulling his gun. He pointed it at Dmitry but heard the distinctive click of another gun beside him. He looked over stunned as Khalid stood up with his pistol pointed at him.
“You can’t be serious,” Smirnov said to Khalid.
“Can’t I?” Khalid said, pointing waving his gun for Smirnov to move.
“It’s over,” Dmitry said, standing up. He took his father’s gun quickly and pointed it at the man who came rushing through the door unexpectedly to retrieve his boss.
When the man saw Dmitry he raised his uzi but was too late. Without thought, Dmitry shot him in his head. The bodyguard fell to the ground as blood spattered across the acrylic wall. Quickly, Dmitry turned the gun back to his father.
“You won’t get away with this,” Smirnov sneered.
“I beg to differ,” Dmitry said, nodding at Khalid. “It’s good to have you on board.”
“It’s good to be done with this shit for brains,” Khalid said with his nose turned up at Smirnov. “All the years that I followed you, I never thought I’d see the day when you would blatantly cut me out of a deal or at least not consult me. NightStar? Are you serious? This is fucking psychotic. It’s the worse idea that I’ve ever heard about. And you’re basically inciting a world war for profit, and what do you expect to happen? Do you think that our families or our men will survive it? Just so you can get richer? How much does one man need?”
“Stop being a pussy, you ignorant fuck. What is really the issue here, eh? Is it my project or the fact that I cut you out of it? You’re a flunky for God’s sake, not my equal. You should be glad that I carried you for as long as I did. The only thing you have ever been good for is delivering my messages and running my errands.
You’re a glorified bitch. Hell, I should have killed you the moment you wanted to have a family with that cunt of a wife of yours. You were the one who begged to bend the code just so you could have your little fucked up family. And I let it happen like a fool. Look at you. You’ve become weak and complacent just like all the others,” Smirnov said with his hands still up.
“By others do you mean your own brother?” Khalid snapped. “You have no loyalty. You murdered him because he didn’t need you anymore.”
“I did the world a favor,” Smirnov said with a chuckle. “Are you seriously seeking revenge for that fuck up? I bet you didn’t know that he fucked your wife.” Smirnov laughed. “All this for him?”
The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Book One Page 30