Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella)

by Ty Hutchinson

  Chapter 18

  It was near noon when I woke up the second time. I lay in bed for a few minutes while my mind tried to make sense of what happened earlier with Elana. It was all very strange, but soon enough the pieces of the puzzle fell into place and I remembered our conversation.

  I knew I wasn’t going to tell Elana or the others about what happened the night before. If she brought it up again, I would blame my grogginess on a sleeping pill. I needed it, considering what I had just gone though.

  Looking forward to a hot meal, I showered, dressed, and arrived in the lobby all under thirty minutes. I made my way over to the hotel restaurant. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, the restaurant was dark and the doors were locked. It was strange because the rest of the hotel seemed lively and operational. I walked over to the front desk attendant and asked the pretty blond why the restaurant was closed. She just shrugged and went back to her book. I guess service hasn’t quite caught on in Minsk.

  “Is there any place around here I can get a quick bite?”

  She pulled out a map of Minsk and began drawing arrows on it. “Walk east on Masherava Avenue, this street is out front, until you reach here. This is Niamiha Street. There is a cafeteria on the corner. It’s very good and cheap.”

  “What is the name of it?”

  “I forget but there is a building and it’s on the second floor. Look for a large metal sculpture of Russian men on a building.”

  “And you have eaten there?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Well if the locals eat there, it can’t be that bad. “I’m just not interested in a tourist type of restaurant.”

  “I didn’t say it was a restaurant. I said it was a cafeteria. Do you know what that is?”

  Cafeteria? Restaurant? I don’t give a shit which one it is. I nodded with a smile and grabbed the map off the counter. I wondered if she was a product of communistic upbringing.

  Once outside my cell phone rang.

  “This is Darby.”

  “Yo, Darb, how are things in candy land? Tell me you’re pigging out.”

  “Tav, man, the sweets are incredible. So many hot women your eyes would fall out. We had our first social last night. It was insane. These women couldn’t get enough of my Darbyness.” I totally got lost in telling Tav all about the women at the social and how I felt like I was surrounded by a pack of wild female animals all fighting to mate with me. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

  I was still on the phone with Tav when I reached the corner where the cafeteria should be. The blond from the hotel was right about the large metal sculpture on a building—soldiers and farmers going forth with stoic looks on their faces.

  I hung out on the corner for another twenty minutes while I finished my conversation. I had been going on and on about the girls and the social so much that I totally blanked out on the kidnapping ordeal. I didn’t remember until I stuck my hand in my pocket and found Natasha’s bracelet. What a way to rain on my own parade.

  I knew I wasn’t mentioning it to Elana or any of the other guys on the tour. However, whether to tell Tav was a different story. But of course I had to tell him. He was my best friend.

  “Darb, I don’t get it. How is it you always end up in the middle of shit every time you leave the country? Were you trying to get clients over there?”

  “I swear to God I wasn’t. This trip is one hundred percent pleasure. Dumb luck I guess. Like I said, she came running up to me asking for help. What was I supposed to do? She was crying, had been beaten, and looked no older than fifteen. You would have helped her, too.”

  Regardless of the situation, Tav was right. This was the second time I had been involved in an overseas kidnapping. It had happened in Hong Kong. But to be honest, my travels to Hong Kong were for the sole purpose of conducting business with a local Triad gang. So the odds were greater that I would find myself in trouble there. This trip, on the other hand, was all for fun. It was a total coincidence that I ended up in the middle of a sex trafficking scandal. I hoped this wasn’t turning out to be a theme with my travels. That would suck.

  “So, now what?” Tav asked.

  “Nothing. She left last night with those men. It’s over.”

  “You don’t have to go to the police and give a statement or anything? What about your tour guide? You tell her yet?”

  “Look, this is over. Telling them will dredge it up. It’s done.”

  “Hey man, your call.”

  “Plus, I get the feeling they don’t trust the police here. Natasha and her people were dead set on handling things themselves.”

  Truth is, I hadn’t wanted to ask Natasha or Oleg any unnecessary questions. I didn’t want to be any more involved than I was. Sure I was still worried about the other girls that Natasha had spoken of, but what could I do? She said that she would help them. I’m going to trust that she follows through on that promise.

  “I’m just glad everything worked out. I’m supposed to be here fixing my love life, not playing hero. From here on out, I’m focused on only one thing: the social. And tonight these women would be in for a special rice crispy treat—something completely Darbytastic.”

  Tav snorted.

  “Well look, Tav, I was just about to grab a bite to eat, so I’ll talk to you later.”

  “What?”

  I covered my phone with my hand to muffle the traffic at the corner. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Cool. Oh wait…I almost forgot. I caught Harold snooping in your office.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah I went up there to take another look at that flier and I bumped into him coming out of your office. ‘Busted’ was written all over his idiotic face.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Speak up; I can’t hear you.”

  “What. Did. He. Say?”

  “Oh, he told me to get the fuck out of the way and then hurried down the hall acting all nervous and stuff.”

  “I wonder what he was doing.”

  “Darb, you don’t keep any of your consulting stuff at work do you?”

  “Nah. That office is bare and that’s exactly how it’s going to stay. I always thought Harold was the type to snoop. What a weasel.”

  “By the way, did you toss that Russian flier? I was going to show it to Lois; she was curious.”

  Lois Burkhardt sat next to Tav and I when I was a bottom-feeder. She was the redheaded mother hen on the floor who took a special liking to Tav and I. She would always bring in baked cookies for us. “No, it should be on my desk.”

  “It wasn’t. I wonder if that cretin took it…?”

  “Do me a favor. Keep an eye on that smelly donkey until I get back.”

  “I will. I might even do a little investigating, Tav style.”

  After talking to Tav, I headed inside the building and worked my way up the steps to the second floor. Sure enough, the smells of Belarusian cuisine caused my nostril hairs to snap to attention. My stomach rumbled with giddiness. Blondie from the front desk was right.

  The restaurant was indeed cafeteria-like. There were all kinds of hot and cold entrées prepared. I pointed and they scooped it onto a plate for me.

  I sat down and proceeded to eat like a champ for only two dollars. Wine, women and song. I liked my life more and more.

  Chapter 19

  That night I had one rule: Stick with the group. We come together, we leave together. If I got lucky and one of these women wanted to come back to the hotel with me, she would need to ride in the minivan.

  We arrived at the same nightclub at eight sharp. Before we even entered, we could hear the house music booming through the door. Our translators Masha and Lena were already there when we arrived. Each was sipping a glass of champagne while they went around gauging each girl’s ability to speak English. The set up was the same as the night before, except there was an entirely new set of hot women.

  I scanned the women in front of me and forgot all about the kidnapping. Fir
st things first, I needed a beer so I headed over to the bar.

  Gene, the outspoken Silicon dude, caught up with me and told me all about his afternoon date with one of the women from last night. “Darby, let me tell you, this woman is perfect. Her name is Anastasia Krylova. We got along really well. We talked the entire date. We laughed a lot. We just had a ball. And it wasn’t only like friends either. I mean, I think we could be really good friends but there were sparks flying. We never stopped holding hands from the time we picked her up to the time we dropped her off.”

  “We? Did you double date?”

  “No, no. Masha came along to translate. Anastasia doesn’t speak English too well. I’ve already arranged for her to take English classes. It’s all worked out.”

  “Was it weird to have Masha with you guys the whole time?”

  “It was actually quite nice. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Masha is not bad-looking herself. Nice behind with a girl-next-door sort of look. It’s like I had two pieces of candy, one on each arm.”

  “Are you going to see Anastasia again?”

  “Yep. I’ve got a day date with her tomorrow.”

  “Does she know you’re here, mingling with other women?”

  “Well, we never discussed it but I guess she can put two and two together. She knows there’s another social.”

  Yup, there is a social and my idea of it doesn’t include spending it with you. It’s time to do the talk-and-walk. I moved away from the bar while giving him the finger point with a wink. “I think it’s a good thing—keeps people from overreacting.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” he said, trailing after me.

  I already had my Gene sensors switched to ignore when I spotted what had to be the most gorgeous woman there that night. This girl had the right amount of shape in all the right places.

  She was a brunette, slightly shorter than me, with a nice rack and a smile that lit up the room. She wore a tight black dress that was no longer than mid-thigh. It hugged her body and left nothing to the imagination. I made my way over.

  “Hi I’m Darby Stansfield.”

  “Hello. My name is Tatiana Golanova,” she giggled.

  “You’re very beautiful.”

  “Thank you. What do you think of my country?” she asked.

  “It’s very pretty. The streets are clean,” I said. Clean streets? So lame. It’s no wonder I’m single.

  “Yes, they are clean. No one litters. But are you here to talk about streets?”

  I took a sip of my beer to calm my nerves. Relax Darb. She’s interested. “No, sorry. I guess I’m a little nervous.”

  Tatiana grabbed my hand and led me over to a couch. “Why do you come to Minsk for a woman? Are there no women where you are from?”

  “There are but they’re not as beautiful.”

  Tatiana smiled and laughed. And then I asked her to dance. We stayed that way for the rest of the night. I blew off the advances of the other women—and there were many.

  There was something interesting about Tatiana. She was different from the others. I can’t really explain what it is but if I had to, I guess it felt like we got each other. There was no figuring things out. We just understood. That made it special in my mind.

  I also learned that Tatiana was twenty-seven years old, had a university degree, and worked in a department store. Nothing freaky. She had the right type of career as far as my business was concerned.

  We easily made each other laugh. Conversation wasn’t a struggle. Her big brown eyes were very inviting. I usually have trouble looking women in their eyes but not with her. Her hair was soft and full. Every breath I took while we slow danced was filled with fresh spring flowers.

  I wrapped her in my arms, my hands on the small of her back as our hips swayed side to side. I leaned in until only a breath separated our lips. She brought her hands tighter around my neck as I allowed my lips to move to hers for a kiss. I knew we were on the dance floor and everyone was watching, and I didn’t care.

  “Tatiana, are you busy tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “Cool. Uh, would you like to spend some time together? Maybe you can show me your city.”

  “That sounds like fun. I would like that.”

  Yes! I was totally psyched. We agreed that I would pick her up at her apartment at ten in the morning. I couldn’t wait.

  At the end of the night I said my goodbyes and gave Tatiana another long, warm kiss. She tasted so good—it was hard to stop at just one. But the horn of the minivan was calling and so was Tatiana’s ride. I stuck to my plan of traveling back to the hotel with the tour.

  Something inside of me said it was the safer bet.

  Chapter 20

  It was a little after midnight when the two men in the four door blue Volga noticed people exiting the nightclub. Tipsy, half-naked beauties stumbled out of the doors in small groupings with their arms interlocked. Their gossiping showed no sign of running out of steam.

  Even though the bartender from the club had called saying the Americans had shown up, they had waited outside in the cold for almost three hours so they could confirm it with their own eyes.

  Earlier in the day, someone from the hotel had delivered a roster containing the names and passport pictures of all the guests, highlighting the Americans. Viktor circled the picture of the American who was on the eighth floor. Viktor had a hunch these Americans were probably here on a love tour—that meant nightly socials.

  One by one the loud American men exited the club sporting their arm candy. One by one the two men in the car compared them to the photo. The third man to exit matched the photo. The passenger made a call on his cell phone.

  “Hello.”

  “We have a match with the picture.”

  “Good. You know what to do.”

  The passenger hung up and continued to watch. Once the blond lady had pried the women off of their arms, she escorted the men right into the minivan.

  The Volga stayed a good distance behind the minivan, careful not to be noticed. When the van stopped out front of the Hotel Yubileinaya five minutes later, the Volga passed, took the next right, and then parked. They had their orders: Wait, then kill.

  The passenger removed a bottle of vodka from a bag and poured them each a drink. They cheered and then swallowed the nectar of Russia. Next he pulled out a smoked sausage and cut slices off with an old pocketknife. It would be awhile before they made their move.

  Wait, then kill.

  A little after two in the morning, both men were buzzed. They had drunk the entire bottle of vodka, more than they had intended. The Volga was an older model and the heater didn’t work well, so it was their way to keep warm in the freezing ice bucket.

  It was time. They made their way to the hotel. In their long, black overcoats, there was nothing specific about them—just two figures. The streets were empty and quiet. The bitter weather was sure to keep any sane person at home. This was all part of the plan.

  Wait, then kill.

  Once in the lobby, they approached the young man asleep at the front desk. The driver leaned in and whispered something to the kid, most likely a fresh graduate from the university with a degree in hotel management—probably why he got the overnight shift. The clerk wrote a room number down on a piece of paper and handed it over along with a room key. The two men returned the favor with an envelope. The kid was shaking the entire time, but three months’ salary was worth it, especially when paid in Euros and not Belarusian rubles.

  The two men then got into the elevator. They watched the numbers change until the doors opened on the eighth floor and they exited into a semi-lit hallway. It was quiet except for the loud snoring coming from room 806. But that wasn’t the room they were interested in; they wanted room 813. They counted the doors off one by one until they both stood outside the room, listening for any sign of movement inside. There was none.

  Wait, then kill.

  The driver pressed his ear against the door for a few seconds. Stil
l he heard nothing. They both pulled HK 9mms out of their jackets and screwed on sound suppressors. The driver slowly pushed the door handle down before slipping the card key into the slot. He waited for the beep then pushed far enough to hear the mechanism click. The door was open.

  The driver pushed the thin door further, just an inch. The light was off. Both men listened for movement. They could still here the snoring from room 806. Or was it coming from inside room 813? They wanted no surprises. A sleeping man had none. Plus, they had been drinking. After hearing what happened to other man who made a mistake, the last thing they wanted to do was screw up and disappoint Viktor.

  Wait, then kill.

  After a whole minute of listening, they finally decided to act. Slowly the driver pushed the door open bit by bit—always a push, then a pause to listen. They repeated this until both men stood quietly in the room with the door closed behind them. By now their senses were on high alert. Adrenaline raced through their veins. They were used to roughing people up. Rarely were they asked to dispose of them.

  From where they stood, they could just see the outline on top of the bed.

  “Now, quickly,” the driver whispered.

  They raised their guns and emptied their clips into the sleeping fool.

  Killed.

  Chapter 21

  San Francisco, California

  Harold made a beeline for the elevator, wanting to quickly get back to the comfort of his office on the sixth floor. He now had what he wanted in his possession— the flier with the Russian women on it—and he couldn’t wait to take a closer look at it. Ever since he saw it in Darby’s office, he was dying to know what it was about.

  Closing his office door, Harold took a seat. He reached down the front of his Dockers and pulled the flier out. Slowly, panel by panel, he unfolded the slightly pornographic material, savoring every bit of it. He was already hard with anticipation. Saliva pooled around his tongue forcing him to slurp. It was disgusting to hear if you were standing outside his office—which is exactly what Tavish was doing.