Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1)

by Camille Taylor

  “Well now that our faces are being broadcasted across Russia, we’ll have to change our looks.”

  Elena nodded at the same time she shivered. He pulled her closer to him. She went willingly. “And we have to get out of the cold. It’s supposed to be a record low today.”

  Fantastic, just what they needed.

  He took off his scarf and beanie and tucked Elena’s silky hair up under the wool before wrapping the scarf around her neck. She looked somewhat disguised. At least she wouldn’t be recognized easily.

  “Gorgeous,” he said when he was done and gave her a wink.

  “What about you? You stick out like a sore thumb.”

  She patted down his blonde hair that had stood up when he had removed his beanie.

  He grinned at her, “Yeah well unless you have any ideas?”

  She thought about it for a moment, her face lighting up when an idea came into her head. “I may have one.”

  She led him out of the alley, mingling in with the tourists leading him towards a small Orthodox Chapel standing almost hidden to the side. Next to the entrance was a stall peddling tourist souvenirs. Elena stopped and began searching the mass of gaudy trinkets and found what she was after – a traditional Russian grey fur hat and purchased it. She turned to Lucas and placed it on his head, effectively covering up his blonde hair.

  “Now you won’t be so noticeable.”

  “Yeah? You think I could pass for one of your countrymen?”

  She gave him a long considering look before answering, “If you keep your mouth shut.”

  As if it was the most natural thing to do. As if they always went everywhere hand in hand, Elena captured his hand in hers and began walking again. He fell into step with her. Looking as if they had all the time in the world, Elena acted as a tour guide as they idly made their way down Red Square, toward the north end away from St Basil’s.

  “St Basil’s Cathedral, at first was named Trinity Church and later Trinity Cathedral was originally erected by order of Ivan IV to honor the victory over the Mongol Tatars in 1555. There are ten churches in total, the last was erected in 1588 over Vasily the Blessed - Basil’s grave, whom the Cathedral was later named after,” she told him as they walked.

  She was calmer now, almost serene. He assumed this was her way of dealing – pretending ignorance of the situation for a time.

  She was proud of her heritage and let it showed as she talked, her eyes alight. And she had a lot to be proud of, he thought as he took in the amazing sights.

  To the left, she pointed out the Kremlin wall. Behind it he could see the Senate Buildings and the Senate Tower that had been built into the wall directly behind Lenin’s tomb. Next to the Senate Tower was St Nicholas Tower. Straight ahead, where Elena was leading him was the State Historical Museum. The structure was a large turreted crimson building with intricate paneling. “Built on orders of Peter the Great,” she told him before pointing out Resurrection Gate to the right of the museum.

  “We’ll stop in here and warm ourselves,” Elena told him. “Museum patrons barely have time or inclination to sit down and watch the news bulletins.”

  “Really?”

  Elena nodded, “I have a friend who works for a museum. She wouldn’t know if man landed on Mars unless he was carrying a rocket full of antiques with him.”

  Lucas chuckled as they entered through the entrance, Elena paying the twelve dollar admission fare in Russian Rubles.

  He immediately felt the heating inside the museum. He shivered as it began to warm him from head to toe. He and Elena began making a slow tour of the treasures the museum had to offer, taking their time looking at a wide range of garments, weaponry and manuscripts dating back to the 12th century.

  They made their way through the museum and up to the second floor where a restaurant with delightful hot coffee awaited them.

  It was now well past two o’clock in the afternoon, soon it would be dark. The sun set early in the winter months which was good for them, at least they would be able to get around much easier under the cover of darkness.

  Elena was dead on her feet. She flopped down in a seat at a table in an obscure corner, away from the other patrons and out of ear shot from anyone who would like to listen in. He could see she was exhausted, having been up for over twenty-four hours including being shot at and running for her life. Her adrenaline levels had plummeted fast. She was going to crash and soon.

  Elena ordered two coffees and something hot to eat. She was beyond caring what went in her mouth as long as it filled her now growling and demanding stomach. They waited until their food arrived and the waitress left before getting back to discussing their dilemma.

  It would help if they had a place to start. He supposed he should start back with Nikolai Nagregor since that was where it all seemed to originate - with his death. He needed to find a way to read the police report in English, see if there was something the investigators missed. All of which will be difficult to get a hold of in since both he and Elena were now on every watch list the country had.

  “We are running around Moscow wanted, hunted and unarmed. We aren’t going to last long,” Elena said matter-of-factly.

  Lucas nodded, he was already aware of the harsh truth. “Then we will go where even the SVR have no jurisdiction. Well at least none that will be paid attention too.”

  She looked puzzled, “And where’s that?”

  “The friendly neighborhood mob,” he replied.

  Elena couldn’t believe her ears. He wanted to willingly show up at the Mafiya’s door. Did he really think he could bully them into letting them stay for dinner? She looked at him across the table with widened eyes.

  “Do all American’s have a death wish or is it just you?”

  Chapter 12

  He listened as President Sergei Smirnov of the Russian Federation spoke. The microphone before him sent his voice to the far reaches of the room. He could barely conceal his hatred of the man, he had shown little promise from the start, but now he was a complete disappointment. He had not voted for the man in the last election preferring his rival, Yuri Volstov’s political policy than Smirnov’s. He had long lost his respect for his President when the man had announced the previous year his plan to back all of the United States endeavors, that together they would fight anyone who seeked to do the world harm.

  He couldn’t believe it, the man had no backbone. Following all the others into pooling Russia’s little resources together in an effort to support the United States in wars of their own making. Russia was the superior nation. When would his beloved country finally be recognized as such? Certainly not when a man like Smirnov was in charge that was for he sure, he thought savagely. The man was useless, nothing but a mongrel dog waiting to be fed the scrapes from the American President’s dinner table. Disgusting.

  His body tensed and he tried to control the rage inside of him. His blood boiled and his hand curled into a fist. They had been the first to into space, beating the arrogant American’s by a decade and yet all the world bloody remembers are the names Armstrong, Aldrin and NASA. He took a deep breath, shuddering at the force of will it took not to go right up to Sergei and rip his God-damned head off.

  It will all be over soon.

  Soon, he would no longer have to stand here and listen to the shit coming out of the imposters mouth. Sergei Smirnov would die and he would watch. He nodded to a fellow agent as they escorted the President down from the podium where he had been speaking and past him, through the small door that led to the back of the building where a car was waiting. He spoke into his radio, advising the agents by the vehicle that the President was on his way to them.

  He looked about the room, as a vigilant agent would, checking the crowd for signs of anarchy. It wouldn’t do for the President to be assassinated now. No, he wouldn’t allow anyone to mess up his plans - his carefully devised and executed plans. When satisfied no attempt would be made, he turned and followed the President’s path through the door. In j
ust a few short hours he would be in St Petersburg and the countdown would begin.

  It was time for a new government, a new order.

  He had planned everything down to the smallest possible detail and until recently had gone like clockwork. But he was a man to bounce back on his feet, quickly recalculating to allow for the unexpected change to his plan in the guise of a CIA Agent. He had not thought the United States to be so prompt in sending one of their own to deal with the situation. But he was nothing if not resilient and had immediately gone about remedying the issue. Luck would have it that the American was so accommodating. It had been child’s play to brand him a rogue and set every law enforcement agency in the country on his ass.

  He didn’t like unforeseen problems, in fact prided himself in being able to anticipate every eventuality. He wasn’t a stupid man and while he was optimistic, he hadn’t climbed as far as he had without learning the key to survival. He wasn’t about to be caught and linked to the plot should something go awry and had ensured a contingency plan. He only hoped he didn’t have to use it because that meant he had failed and who knew when another opportunity would fall into their laps.

  It had been a stroke of genius that had him seeking out and securing Michael Ducane’s services for the job. Nothing could lead back to him or to Yuri Volstov. It would do no good to have suspicion thrown on the assassinated President’s successor otherwise all they are doing will be for not.

  Ducane was the perfect scapegoat for the aftermath, already having proved himself as the culprit of several other political bombings across the globe, what was one more? The blame would be placed squarely on his shoulders and Ducane would not be alive to dispute that fact with anyone. He would shoot him dead while ‘trying’ to protect his President. The building though well-guarded had several entry points and a man in his high position could easily smuggle in a terrorist and keep the crowd contained whilst appearing to be doing his very best to get everyone out alive.

  Soon the world will know that the weak will fall and only the strong will survive. And he was very strong and with his help, so will his country be.

  Chapter 13

  The cold had settled in for the night getting to a low of minus three and was still dropping. By morning it would easily be minus five. Snow had stopped falling and the clouds had locked in the freezing temperature. Still the bitter climate did not deter everyone from leaving their residences. The nightlife in the neighborhood of Solntsevskaya was a far cry to that of Tverskaya Street, men lay crumpled on the ground long since frozen to death, the smell of bodies, sweat, alcohol and urine was in the frigid air.

  Lucas never let his eyes rest, like the Terminator he scanned everything and everyone for a weapon. He liked to know when he was about to be involved in a royal fuck up.

  “Stick close,” he murmured to Elena, watching the condensation come from his mouth. He had long since lost feeling in his toes and silently cursed the foul weather. They had spent the entire day at the museum, trying to come up with an appropriate plan of attack, but missing key bits of information put them at a disadvantage, that and the fact they had no bargaining chips. They had finally agreed to see where the night takes them.

  Elena looked about the street they were walking, Russia’s lowest citizens stared straight at her and she resisted the urge to turn away and go back the way she came. Solntsevskaya was well known in Russia for being Moscow’s largest mafiya neighborhood. The Solntsevskaya Bratva – the brotherhood, was one of the most lethal and feared factions.

  “Yes because I’ll be wandering off any moment now,” she replied dryly.

  He smiled at the sarcasm in her voice, his smile quickly disappearing as he watched two men with giant guns bulging proudly under their coats approach them.

  The left one spouted of quick Russian, Lucas felt Elena tense beside him.

  “I don’t think they really want us here,” her voice soft as if she was afraid that a higher decibel would set them off.

  “Even I caught that. Okay translate for me. I want to speak to your boss. It involves a shipment of his.”

  Elena frowned. He could clearly see she did not want to be here. Nor did she want to have to address the man standing in front of her. She most certainly didn’t want to relay his message which he knew she assumed would royally piss them off.

  Elena took a deep breath, visibly preparing herself for the confrontation. Such a trouper, he thought again. He would really have to do something nice for her when he was done messing up her life and possibly getting her killed in the process.

  Elena repeated his message, the man’s face before them darkened. He had not liked what he heard. He raised his hand, Lucas went still then relaxed when he saw the man bring up a cell phone and pressed a speed dial button before speaking fast into the phone.

  He looked over at Lucas when he spoke, nodded curtly and hung up the phone. He looked over at Elena and spoke to her. She nodded her response and took hold of Lucas’s arm.

  “We’re to follow him,” she said, once again speaking softly.

  He looked down at her, she didn’t look any more worried than she had a few moments ago. He leant down so that his mouth was close to her ear and asked, “You didn’t happen to overhear any of what was said on the other end did you? Give us an idea of what to expect?”

  She shook her head and together they started following the man.

  “No, but I didn’t catch the words, kill, maim, murder, disappear or river so I think he’s pretty interested in what you have to say,” she looked at him. “I must admit I’m curious too.”

  He gave her a smile. “Relax, I haven’t killed us yet.”

  He felt some tension leave her body, but she was still pretty stiff, but then again that could be because of the cold. She returned his smile, albeit slightly smaller.

  “Yet being the operative word Lucas,” she replied.

  They followed the man into a shop on the main street. The entrance was off to the side in a concealed alley. How very gangster of them, Lucas thought. The building looked like it should have been condemned years ago. It had been once a restaurant and still held some booths and a counter. Dust coated each surface. They walked up a flight of steps and entered another world. The room was richly decorated, hard wood floors shined and Lucas had an insane thought about wiping his feet. Long leather couches, big LCD screens with Dolby Stereos and all the trimmings stood to one side. A tall elderly man who looked like some child’s grandfather sat at a table eating dinner consisting of lobster and caviar. He took a sip of Vodka from his glass in front of him and regarded them.

  Marlon Brando he was not. The man’s thinning hair was slicked over to one side, his bushy white eyebrows were in dire need of a trim and he wore an expensive suit, tailored just for him.

  His black eyes stared right into Lucas’s and he had to work hard at not flinching, the man was as cold as ice. He then turned his attention to Elena, his eyes drifting up and down her body. Lucas felt the desire to stand in front of her to protect from the old man’s sins. Lucas felt his hands become fists hanging uselessly beside his thighs. The old man turned his attention back to Lucas and smiled. He knew the effect he had on others and apparently approved of Lucas.

  “What about my shipment?” from the sound of his voice, you would have thought him to be a young man. He had clearly looked after himself over the years.

  Elena turned to translate just as the man repeated his question, this time in English.

  Time to lay down some ground rules.

  “First I need some things from you,” Lucas declared.

  The old man laughed. Elena’s head swung around to face him.

  “You’re negotiating with the Mafiya?” she sounded incredulous.

  Lucas kept his eyes on the Man in Charge playing the staring game he obviously favored.

  “I am Iosif Simonov. You are a very brave young man. That or a very stupid one,” Iosif smiled. “I could use a man like you, you have quite the set of balls on you.�
��

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Elena’s jaw drop and he could see her pearly white molars. Had it been under other conditions he would have laughed.

  Iosif continued. “What is it that you want?”

  “Guns – the good ones,” he said.

  “I don’t have any other kind,” Iosif stated truthfully. He wasn’t boasting, he knew the quality of his merchandise and wouldn’t have them if they weren’t of top grade.

  “We have a deal then?” Lucas clarified.

  Iosif nodded curtly, he was a busy man. He didn’t have time for games, if he wasn’t about the deal they would be getting fitted for a cement shoe right about now.

  “Your drug shipment coming in on Tuesday is dirty. One of your men rolled over. You might want a change of location, unless you like hundreds of SVR Agents at your party.”

  Iosif’s eyes widened. “And how do you happen to know this?”

  Lucas shrugged, folding his arms across his chest looking nonchalant, “I have myself a spy or two inside Russian Intelligence.”

  Iosif laughed, wrinkles appearing at the edge of his eyes revealing his age. He stood up. “Follow me.”

  Lucas took hold of Elena’s hand and pulled her close into his body, protecting her. Now would come to true test, he didn’t like not knowing his surroundings. If it went belly up, it would be difficult at best to get Elena out of there.

  They followed Iosif back down to the restaurant and out the door and out to a large dark Hummer parked by the building. Iosif shook his head slightly at the two beefy men standing guard at the car, most likely letting them know silently that he was not being held by gun point. If Lucas hadn’t been looking for such a sign he would never have seen it.

  Iosif barked orders at the two men who promptly snapped into motion. Lucas relied on Elena’s response on what was going down. In a way he felt blind, only having her to guide him through. Trusting her with his life in the dangerous situation they found themselves in. Elena’s demeanor didn’t change, so he took that as everything was okay.