The Ionian Paradigm

by Daniel Leston

  Just as Jake took a deep breath in preparation for action, he saw the man suddenly jerk his head around in the direction of the open hold door. Before Ivan could aim his pistol, a bullet struck center in the chest, driving him back against a tall crate. Though the first bullet wasn’t fatal, the second ended his life while he still remained on his feet. It ripped into his throat, spraying a jet of blood and tissue against the wood siding immediately behind him. Mere seconds later he collapsed lifeless to the floor.

  Then came the words the boy been praying to hear these past days.

  “Jake—? Are you hurt? Where are you, son?”

  “I’m here, dad,” Jake answered, getting to his feet. “I’m okay.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Back on the freighter’s bridge, Lana was the first to spot the sudden and threatening approach of a helicopter heading low and straight toward them across the Varna’s bow. Hardly a moment after her shouted warning for Elizabeth and Nick to drop for cover, the bridge’s forward-facing glass exploded over them as it was ripped by what could only be a burst of automatic gunfire. This done, the helicopter swung around the ship’s stern before making an equally fast run up the aft side, raking the entire upper deck of the Safira. Fortunately, Giannis also dove for cover—then quickly threw his yacht into full forward, surging away and out of further danger with an evasive maneuver.

  Not so fortunate was the captain of the freighter.

  Though also forewarned by Lana’s alarm, he had remained standing on the bridge, staring in puzzlement as the familiar chopper off the Corrina bore down on him, only to immediately suffer the deadly consequences of his confusion. When the other three scrambled to their feet his prone body lay face up on the glass-strewn floor, an expression of utter shock still frozen in his open eyes, a large portion of his chest literally blown away.

  Thankfully, the helicopter chose not to return.

  Instead, it set down on the freighter’s forward helipad where four men disembarked; more adversaries that David, Omar—and now hopefully with a rescued Jake in hand—might not yet be aware.

  Could things possibly get worse?

  Apparently so!

  Equally foreboding was a rapidly closing military frigate now visible off the freighter’s port bow—and unless the three of them were all mistaken, it appeared to be flying a Russian flag!

  A single glance at the bridge’s ship-wide intercom system showed it completely incapable of providing any warning to this new danger. Torn apart by the same bullets that killed the captain, the system’s riddled remnants were beyond functioning.

  This left but one alternative.

  David desperately needed their help!

  And bloody well fast!

  * * * *

  Pavel Bedev was in phone communication with Talanov since before the helicopter’s dispatch from the Corrina, informing the worried oligarch of an inability to contain Manning’s small assault team. Hence the arrival of the chopper with four of Talanov’s special security people armed with machine pistols to bolster the effort.

  How many of Manning’s people were taken out by the strafing run on the bridge and the boarding yacht still remained an unknown. But Pavel now believed the tide had definitely turned in his favor. By shrewdly positioning his fresh reinforcements—which he quickly did—he fully anticipated soon getting everything back under control.

  He knew if he could keep the American pinned in the stairwell for even a few minutes longer, then his trap would be set. Two of the security men had been sent down to the ship’s hold area via a separate bow access, their sole mission to confine Manning from below and behind. A third man was stationed one floor up on the main deck, prepared to block any attempt to escape via that upper route. As for the fourth, he would shortly be supporting Pavel’s present position.

  All in all, the logistics seemed foolproof.

  Seeing Manning and his cohort about to exit the stairwell, Pavel leaned around and opened fire from the corner of a narrow side hallway, successfully driving the surprised pair to retreat back out of sight. An audible gasp of pain from Manning’s companion indicated at least one bullet had hit its mark.

  So far so good!

  The noose was tightening!

  Of nagging mystery to Pavel was the present whereabouts of Ivan and the boy. Surely he’d given his henchman more than ample time to eliminate the drugged teenager and dispose of the body. Or had Ivan somehow fucked up his assignment and gotten himself killed? Evaluating this possibility, Pavel concluded the truth of it no longer mattered in the bigger scheme of things. Bottom line, he felt assured all of them would soon be dead.

  * * * *

  Also, two levels down from the deck—after having raced headlong from the bridge—Elizabeth, Nick, and Lana followed the sound of repeated gunfire until eventually coming upon the stairwell standoff. Like David and Omar, they too couldn’t see around the side hallway at the gunman keeping them pinned—and without this benefit, no one was likely to get a clean shot at any time soon.

  What was desperately needed, Elizabeth knew, was a sudden disruption of some sort; something startling enough to force the man out into the open and leave him momentarily vulnerable. Knowing her husband, one clear shot should be all David would require.

  But how to create such a distraction—?

  From her extended angle of sixty feet away, Elizabeth saw what David and Omar couldn’t. Just opposite of where the man hid was a glass-enclosed fire extinguisher mounted flush into the wall.

  Could this be made to work—?

  There was but one way to find out!

  She whispered briefly to Nick—and then, with Lana covering them, they jointly opened fire on the encased extinguisher, concentrating their aim on the connection between the cylindrical tank and the hose’s nozzle/release mechanism. Once the glass was shattered it took the combined firepower of almost a full clip for the bullets to finally accomplish their task—and with very dramatic results.

  Like most fire extinguishers, most of the tank was filled with pure baking soda held under a concentration of compressed nitrogen. With all the gas thus instantly vented, a billowing cloud of white exploded outward into the immediate area—which included where Pavel had concealed himself. Totally taken off-guard by this unexpected development, he stepped out of the thick, enveloping cloud. This instinctive decision sealed his fate, for he was hit by a well-placed bullet from David’s pistol, slamming him back against the powder-covered wall.

  His weapon still in hand, Pavel made a last feeble attempt to raise his arm, but it was too little and too late as David moved out from the stairwell and administered the kill shot to Pavel’s forehead. Behind him, a bloodied Omar—steadied by Jake—likewise emerged from the stairwell, neither of them detecting the approaching figure that Lana thankfully saw.

  “Look out, David!”

  Lana fired her pistol at the fourth of Talanov’s security men who was belatedly arriving to support the dead Pavel’s position. It proved too late for him as well. Lana’s bullet punched into his middle as David spun to face this new threat and quickly dispatched him with a quick shot to the chest. This accomplished, he grabbed up the man’s fallen machine pistol and sprayed a burst of fire down the stairwell—giving serious pause to those coming up from below. If this didn’t delay them, he thought, then probably nothing would.

  But did it buy enough time to get all six of them off this damn ship?

  David could only hope so as they rushed back toward the bridge, Nick and Lana half-carrying a weakening Omar while Elizabeth clutched young Jake’s hand as if to never let go. Perhaps they actually might make it after all! Worse case scenario was the grim possibility Captain Giannis and the Safira might not be waiting there for them to board.

  What then?

  Too many unanswered questions.

  It soon became apparent that this particular scenario was only partially true. The yacht was there—but alongside it was a pontoon boat filled with a dozen or more heavily
armed Russian sailors, all now scrambling to climb up the ship’s zig/zag boarding platforms. What at first looked disastrous, however, was quickly reversed when David suddenly recognized the face of the older man leading the assault—the one person he never expected to see here of all places!

  A despondent Elizabeth encircled his waist.

  “David, what do we—”

  “We do nothing,” he instructed all of them. To their puzzlement, a relieved smile was now visibly growing on his face.

  “Good to see you again, Professor,” said a smiling General Perminov, extending his arm. “I apologize for the lateness of our timing. If possible, we would have intervened much sooner.” He briefly paused as David clasped his hand. “And your son is—?”

  “Thankfully now safe and sound, Arkady.”

  “Excellent. President Voronin will be pleased to learn this. Does Talanov still have active players aboard?”

  “At least two, maybe more.”

  “No worries. My men will sweep the ship and take them out—as we’ll soon do on the Corrina, as well.” Perminov noted the blood-soaked shoulder wound on Omar’s limp arm. “In the meantime, our medical team is prepared to help where needed.”

  “Much appreciated, old friend.”

  Elizabeth squeezed David even tighter, now asking, “Does—does this all mean what we think it does?”

  David nodded in the affirmative.

  “It’s finally over, hon.”

  EPILOGUE

  Seven Hours Later.

  The late-afternoon sun shone bright and warm as David and Arkady Perminov leaned on the naval frigate’s forward railing, both watching the distant Corrina as it became little more than a diminishing silver speck on the eastern horizon. Now under Perminov’s complete control, the huge super-yacht was making its way to the Russian shipyards at Novorossiysk—and definitely not under the pleasant circumstances Alexei Talanov had anticipated. Quite the contrary. The shock of discovering the Russian ship wasn’t there to assist him, but instead to place him under confined arrest, must have been a crushing blow.

  Apparently, Perminov was thinking along the same line.

  “You Americans have a most curious expression,” he said with a smile, “that now partially escapes me. From the reports of my boarding crew on the Corrina, Talanov wasn’t what anyone would describe as a happy—happy—”

  “Camper? No, I can’t imagine he was.”

  “Yes, that’s the phrase. At my age, it’s sometimes difficult to keep new things clear in my head. As a retired Air Force man, I must confess even being here at sea takes some getting used to. Fortunately my command will be of short duration. As recent as only a day ago I never would’ve imagined such a turn of events.”

  “But here you are and I’m damn grateful for it. You know, Arkady, you haven’t yet told me how this all came about. I’d really like to know at least some of the details.”

  “Understandable,” replied the older man amiably. “As you may have already surmised, it all resulted from your recent meeting with President Deniz in Turkey. Though he refused to commit to any type of interdiction by his government, it seems he chose to forward a full copy of the documents outlining your situation to President Voronov, basically putting the responsibility on Russia as to whether or not to act. Very clever, actually.”

  “I’m just glad he did. So what you’re saying is Voronov had no previous inkling of what Talanov was about?”

  “I suspect not. At least not in this particular instance, anyway. However, I do believe he keeps some tabs on the various activities of our growing list of Russian oligarchs.”

  “So what swayed him to take such swift action when he did learn of Talanov’s nefarious plans?” David had his own growing suspicion on this matter, but wasn’t about to express it aloud. Not yet, anyway.

  Perminov lifted his shoulders in an evasive shrug.

  “Who can say?” he finally responded. “As a loyal servant of my homeland, it’s not my place to even begin speculating on such high level—”

  “But if you were to guess?” prodded David.

  A lengthy pause.

  “Perhaps a combination of things came into play, my friend; not the least of which I believe was your continued silence on our involvement in that Mongolian incident with China. It left Voronov with a good impression. It’s been what—? A full decade and more now? Odd how time slips by so swiftly. Anyway, your cooperation back then was much appreciated by my government. And still is to this day. Our previous contacts—past friendship, if you will—is the sole reason I was pulled out of retirement to head up this mission.”

  David intuitively knew where this was probably headed. To spare his friend the embarrassment of having to raise the delicate subject, he asked, “Can I then assume your president would be amenable to a similar arrangement in this case? Me, I’ve always found occasional minor adjustments to the truth often work best under certain situations. If it helps Voronov’s cause to say we colluded with each other to interdict and return these stolen treasures to Greece, I can tell you right now this presents no problem either to me or to any of my people. In point of fact, the more my family and friends are kept out of all this, the more to my liking. Rescuing my son was our one and only overriding goal—and it would be no lie to say we couldn’t have done it without your timely help. ”

  Perminov nodded, a somewhat relieved look on his face.

  “I’ll certainly pass this on to my president,” he said. “And speaking of your family and friends, where is everyone?”

  Now it was David who smiled.

  “Well, Nick has been spending all day down in the freighter’s hold, carefully prying up crate lids to view their contents. He claims what he’s so far uncovered exceeds all of his wildest expectations—and he’s enough of an expert on ancient Greek sculpture to appreciate what he’s looking at. Needless to say, it upsets him to no end to know all of this was earmarked to be forever lost in Talanov’s private collection.” He paused. “As for Omar and Lana, she has him flat on his back and recuperating aboard the Safira. Though he says his bound arm feels much better since the surgery, she’s not about to let him go look for himself.”

  “And Elizabeth and Jake?”

  “Both assisting Nick. How much help Elizabeth is giving them is probably questionable, but she’s apparently not letting Jake out of her sight any time soon.” He smiled. “Knowing her as I do, my guess is she probably won’t until she has him back home in New England.”

  Perminov showed no surprise to hear this.

  “Under the circumstances, David, I suppose it’s to be expected. Which brings me to the subject of Jake. You’ve shared with me all that happened during his captivity. Between the drugging and how close they came to murdering him—that’s one helluva lot for a boy of sixteen to digest. Add to that witnessing all the killings around him during his rescue. I wonder if you’ve yet got a feel for how he’s taking all this? I hesitate to ask, but I—”

  David sighed, his smile slipping away.

  “The answer is I really don’t know, my friend. It’s something I also worry over. I’m sure it’s going to take some time for him to work it all out. We just have to be there for him as he does.” He shook his head. “Arkady, when I think how close I came to losing him it shakes me to the very core. Also, I believe the overall fault of it was entirely mine; my getting far too involved in risky undertakings, making poor decisions involving others, not anticipating the risks my actions would have on family and dear friends . . .”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “I don’t believe so. Perhaps I really am getting too old for this. Until now I’ve been lucky—but this time my luck came close to running out. Too close! Makes me think I should confine myself to more sedentary pursuits.”

  “Such as what? Back to fulltime teaching? Maybe take up some trivial hobby to fill your time?” The older man hesitated for a long moment as he studied David’s face; then asked, “Is there something els
e still troubling you about what’s happened here today? This business is over, David.”

  David looked doubtful.

  “Is it? I have to wonder. To be honest, I can’t help but worry Talanov’s long arm of vengeance still hangs over my family and friends—and probably will for some time. After what he tried to do to Jake . . . well, I really can’t put anything past him, now can I? Who says at some future point he doesn’t choose to—?”

  “Me for one,” interrupted the older man in a firm voice.

  “How so?”

  “It wasn’t my intention to reveal this,” Perminov admitted, “yet if for no other reason than to ease your mind, it’s something you should know. Not only is the entire of Talanov’s wealth being confiscated by the Russian state even as we speak, but also his life expectancy is measurable in mere days. Perhaps only hours. For myself, I suspect the latter. As I said, David, it’s truly over. Rest assured any future danger to you and yours in this matter is effectively eliminated.”

  “You know this for a certainty?”

  “I do—though I’d prefer you kept it to yourself. Considering the man’s many crimes, try not to judge my government’s method of dealing with him too harshly. After all, it’s not as if justice won’t be properly served. It will. Simply put, it’s just going to be—how shall I say?—expedited somewhat.”

  A silent David couldn’t pretend to feel anything except relief.

  If anything, Talanov’s fate was in every way appropriate.

  104

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN