by Beth Abbott
“Ma’am, could you make an exception and allow two and a quarter?” He nodded towards Roman. “He hasn’t seen his mama in two days.”
The nurse blushed but stood her ground.
“The quarter can stay, but one of the two of you will have to wait outside.” She insisted.
Kellen stood up and stretched.
“It’s fine.” He smiled at Niko. “My stomach is feeling badly neglected about now. I’ll go and find some sustenance, while the two and a quarter of you play happy families.”
Niko smiled up at him.
“Do you ever stop eating for more than thirty minutes?” She wondered.
“Not unless I absolutely have to.” He grinned. “Does anyone want anything, while I’m out foraging for food?”
“Foraging?” Hollywood chuckled. “You do know that there are a bunch of fast-food joints just across the street, don’t you? At least a dozen within five minutes walking distance. It’s not like you have to scavenge for nuts and berries.”
“Maybe not… but it requires attention to detail in order to select exactly the right food-type.” Kellen explained. “You see, I could settle for a burger and fries, only to walk round the next corner and find the best Chinese takeout in London.”
“Then I suggest you stop at the nurses’ station before you leave and ask one of them to recommend somewhere for you.” Hollywood grinned. “You might even pick up a phone number or two while you’re there.”
“Umm, hello? Do you mind? I’m still here, listening!” Niko huffed.
“Honey, I said for Kellen to pick up a phone number, not me!” Hollywood smiled innocently. “He’s a lonely guy, all by himself. He needs some company.”
“Need I remind you that Kellen has Roman for company tonight, along with Lego Batman and popcorn.” Niko pointed out.
“Yeah, H!” Roman poked Hollywood in the stomach. “It’s ‘guys’ night’ remember? No girls allowed.”
“Yeah, who needs girls? Blah!” Kellen grinned.
As he said it, his eyes skimmed around the room until they landed on the nurses’ station, where a couple of pretty young nurses had him firmly in their sights.
Yeah, girls could wait for another night!
Tomorrow, maybe?
Chapter 7 – Drago
Drago walked through the Casino doors, his eyes instantly having to make the adjustment from the drab exterior of the building, to the plush opulence and bizarrely lit interior.
Gaming tables of every shape and size were scattered around the room, brightly lit from above to give the appearance that they were open to the closest scrutiny from patrons and security cameras alike.
Of course, that was probably only half the truth.
The patrons might like to think everything was above board, but as anyone with an ounce of sense knew, the only winner in a casino was the house, and the only kind of cheating frowned upon was the sort that took cash from the casino and put it in the pocket of the patron or the croupier.
Drago casually glanced around, taking in the position of all the cameras, and noted with no surprise that they were positioned not only to see the faces of the patrons, but also to keep a very close eye on what the croupiers were doing.
These beautiful young women were highly trained and exceptionally good at what they did, and even more skilful at being a distraction to some of the older, unattached males with money to burn and a couple of Viagra tablets burning a hole in their pockets.
Drago walked towards the bar, noticing a number of curtained off areas to one side. Apparently, Orlov informed him, Lebedev liked to provide a whole range of services at his Casino, and if a patron felt the need to amuse himself with one of the many casino hostesses, then rather than have them leave and possibly not come back, he provided these cubicle type spaces, so they could get their blow-job, or whatever, and get straight back to gambling.
As he reached the bar, the bartender was in front of him immediately, with a big smile.
“What can I get for you, sir?” The young man stared up at him, and Drago was a little thrown by the obviously keen look of interest on the man’s face.
“Have you got any Peroni?” Drago asked, not wanting to touch any hard liquor.
The man reached into a fridge and pulled out a bottle, flicking the cap and pouring it into a glass before Drago could stop him.
He much preferred to drink straight from the bottle, but he guessed this kind of establishment frowned on such behaviour. Not to mention that it was easier to club someone with a bottle than a beer glass.
Drago handed the guy a note that would probably be enough to pay for five drinks, even in a place like this, and deliberately turned away to let the man know he didn’t expect any change.
He looked around, taking in the curved stairs in one corner, a single rope blocking people from going upstairs. Well, a single rope and half a dozen security men standing at the bottom of the stairs, jackets padded out by the obvious outline of their sidearms.
The smells around him were irritating his sinuses. Expensive perfume, cheap perfume, the pungent aroma of someone nearby smoking a joint of some kind, and the unmistakable smell of sex.
Drago kept the expression of disgust from his face. This wasn’t the sort of place he would normally be caught dead in, but if he wanted to do business with the scum of the earth, he had to go where the pond-scum congregated.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
Drago glanced down at the peroxide blonde hostess standing in front of him, her overly enhanced breasts forcing the elasticated material to stretch way beyond its originally intended circumference.
“Just waiting for a friend, thanks.” He smiled briefly before looking away, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him alone.
“I can keep you company if you’d like?” She persisted. “Make you feel better.”
Drago knew this was going to turn nasty if he didn’t handle the situation delicately. This was probably one of the house girls, and he didn’t want to piss off the house.
“Listen, sweetheart.” He smiled as he pulled a few bills from a wad in his pocket. “My woman blew me in the car on the way here, so I’m not in need of any company right now. Maybe later, I’ll look for you, and you can make me feel really good, hmm?”
The blonde looked like she was going to argue until he slipped the cash into her hand. He’d just given her the equivalent of five hundred dollars, which by anyone’s standards was a nice little tip for doing nothing.
“Ok.” She smiled. “Just tell any of the security guys or waiters that you’re looking for me and they’ll find me. I’m Lola.”
“Sure thing.” Drago was already moving away from the cheap perfume, hoping he wasn’t going to become a target for every hooker in the place.
“Still a pussy-magnet, Drago?” The deep voice behind him was full of humour, telling Drago the man had witnessed his interaction with ‘Lola’.
He turned slowly to find Orlov standing behind him, another of the hostesses already hanging off his arm.
Drago shrugged good-naturedly.
“What can I say? Women seem to like me for some reason.” He smiled. “Don’t know what they see in me, but hey… I’m not complaining.”
Orlov’s lady friend looked Drago up and down as though she wanted to eat him. Well, blow him at the very least.
In fairness, without being too arrogant, even Drago could see why.
Drago was six and a half feet tall, weighed two hundred and forty pounds, at least two hundred of which were solid muscle, and was blonde and green eyed, making him stand out in almost any room that wasn’t in Scandinavia.
Orlov was pushing fifty, short, fat and balding, always putting Drago in mind of a grubby Jack Nicholson. Not exactly every hostess’ dream client.
Orlov nodded towards the gaming tables.
“Have you dropped any money yet?” He asked.
“Not yet. I only just got here a few minutes ago.” Drago explained. “Lo
ng enough to get a drink and get propositioned, but not long enough to shed any cash.”
“Well, you might as well settle down to it.” Orlov moved to the nearest table where there were a couple of free chairs among the patrons playing roulette. “The cameras will be watching us, and you won’t be invited into the VIP area until you’ve dropped at least a couple of million rubles.”
A rough calculation told Drago that Lebedev must be raking in a pretty penny, as expecting everyone who wanted to get into the VIP area to drop around thirty thousand dollars on one of his tables, even before he got an introduction, was a pretty good business strategy.
“What if we win?” Drago wondered.
“Don’t.” Orlov’s answer was concise and to the point.
As they took their seats, both men reached inside their jackets to remove a wad of cash.
Drago immediately withdrew two million in large bills and exchanged it for a handful of chips. Orlov withdrew a much more modest amount which he handed over.
Drago glanced at him in surprise.
“What?” Orlov grinned. “I don’t need to throw my money away. I’m not the one looking for an introduction.”
Drago settled back to play and started placing single bets of fifty thousand at a time. Just as he was about to lose his first million, he had a fluke win which put him about three quarters of a million up on where he’d started.
“Shit!” He hissed, knowing that if that had happened anywhere else, he’d be celebrating his good fortune.
“Did I mention the part where you’re supposed to lose a couple of million, not win?” Orlov chuckled.
“Yeah, I got that part.” He scowled. “It wasn’t intentional, believe me.”
Sticking with the same number that had won him the money, he doubled up his bets, and within half an hour was down to his last two hundred thousand.
“Gentlemen?” A young man stood behind them flanked by a couple of obvious security guards. “Mr Lebedev has invited you to the VIP area, to share a glass of champagne with him.”
Orlov stood up immediately.
“That would be most acceptable.” He flicked a chip at the croupier and picked up his drink.
Drago gathered what was left of his chips, and after passing two fifty thousand chips to the croupier with a smile, slipped the rest into his pocket.
They followed the young man to a second staircase that Drago hadn’t spotted earlier, and the group made their way up to the VIP balcony overlooking the tables. The two security guards flanked them all the way up, leaving Drago feeling crowded, like he was being hustled onto the Mosco Metro.
Not that he regularly travelled on the Metro, preferring to stay above ground, but he had travelled on underground trains in London and New York, and they all gave him the same claustrophobic feeling he got nowhere else.
The hustling continued as they were led across the room, until eventually they stopped abruptly near the balcony rails where a table had been set out with a perfect view of what was going on down below.
They stopped so suddenly that the security guy following behind him pushed right into his back, causing Drago to glance around and glare at him.
“Is there a problem?” The man seated at the head of the table looked at Drago curiously, obviously having noted his displeasure.
“Yeah, you could say.” Drago glared at the slim, middle-aged man he guessed was Lebedev. “When I feel the need for a rectal examination, I usually go to my physician, and he wears latex gloves and plays soothing music. I don’t expect to get checked out in the middle of a casino by one of your security guards using his groin. The guy hasn’t even bought me a drink yet!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Drago could see Orlov had paled, but Lebedev didn’t seem to have taken offence. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed, making him looked ten years younger than the fifty-three Drago knew him to be.
“I wasn’t aware that any of my men were that way inclined.” Lebedev wiped the tears from his eyes. “But it’s obviously an attribute I may be able to put to good use at some future point.”
As Lebedev waved his security men away, Drago turned to see the man who’d bumped into him turning red in the face. No doubt he wanted to protest that the nudge had been purely innocent, but Drago doubted that Lebedev would be the kind of guy to sit and listen to excuses.
“Sit down, gentlemen.” Lebedev pointed to the chairs opposite him. “Please, help yourselves to some champagne.”
Drago had brought his beer glass from downstairs and lifted it to take a sip.
“This will do for me.” He nodded, ignoring Orlov’s obvious annoyance.
He guessed that most people who sat at this table were probably scared shitless of the Russian gangster, and the expectation was that Drago would be the same. Fuck that!
“Not a champagne man?” Lebedev shrugged easily. “Each to his own.”
Drago glanced around the VIP area and noticed a number of security cameras. Several of them were pointed at the tables below, and several more were pointed towards some velvet curtains, where Drago guessed Lebedev’s hostesses entertained his VIP clients.
None of them pointed at the table they were sitting at.
“So, my friend Orlov tells me that you’re looking to buy from me.” Lebedev smiled. “What are you looking for, exactly.”
Drago placed the glass on the table slowly, not wanting to appear too eager.
“You’re obviously familiar with my former partner, Ilya Federov.” He began.
“Partner?” Lebedev frowned. “I thought you worked for him.”
“We were competitors initially, before he asked me to go into business with him. And at the beginning, while I learned more about his business, yes, I did act as his right hand.” Drago shrugged. “But once he started to increase the volume of merchandise he was moving, I became an equal partner, as it was impossible for one person to do everything, especially if, like Ilya, you’re not prepared to delegate to your lieutenants.”
“So, you were in business as Federov’s partner?” Lebedev clarified. “I hadn’t heard this.”
“Ilya still ran the Russian side of the business, while I concentrated on our European trade, mostly moving the women and drugs.” Drago shrugged. “It was very lucrative, right up until the last run.”
“I heard rumour that everyone had been killed or arrested.” Lebedev frowned. “How did you get away?”
“I’d gone out to deliver the latest drugs shipment just before the warehouse was raided.” Drago leaned forward scowling. “We lost our entire human cargo, and most of our men. Ilya and his sister were killed in the shootout that followed.”
“I see. I’m sorry for your loss.” Lebedev said sincerely. “So, what is it you want from me? Drugs? Guns?”
“I’d just secured a large shipment of AK’s and a few cases of ACRs, just before we were raided.” Drago scowled. “All lost.”
“Unfortunate.” Lebedev nodded. “So, are you looking to replace everything?”
“Everything and more.” Drago nodded. “I want at least a thousand AK’s and a hundred ACR’s to replace what I lost. Plus, I need rocket launchers and grenades as well as some fifty calibre sniper rifles and rounds.”
Lebedev’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead.
“Planning on starting a war?” He smirked.
“Planning on securing our future.” Drago nodded. “And if it fits in with our timetable, possibly exacting a little revenge, although I’m in no hurry for that. I’m happy to serve that dish cold.”
“Sensible man.” Lebedev nodded. “And this future you speak of… do you intend on trading within our own borders? Or are you going to continue with your existing trade-routes through Europe?”
“Well, there wouldn’t be much point in continuing with our existing trade-routes, would there? Not seeing as we know they’ve already been compromised.” Drago smiled. “Nor do I have any desire to expand our domestic market. Moscow is saturated already, and the traders
here are offering very competitive terms. There wouldn’t be much point in going up against competitors who already have a solid customer base.”
“Where do you have in mind, then?” Lebedev was obviously curious by nature.
“I have several customers interested in taking whatever I can supply in the way of guns and drugs.” Drago nodded. “Customers in the UK, and even as far away as North America.”
“You’d ship drugs to America?” Lebedev smiled. “I hadn’t heard that the drug runs from South America had been drying up recently. Do you think you can trade on competitive terms?”
“I have partners who are already setting up trade routes as we speak.” Drago explained. “We’re splitting the cost, making it more effective for all concerned.”
“Are they looking for new business partners?” Lebedev was obviously interested in anything that could make him money.
“Not at the moment.” Drago shook his head. “To them, I’m the new kid on the block, and they’re taking me based on my reputation alone. I have to prove to them that I can deliver the goods and share the burden fairly before they’ll agree to expand our business arrangement further. Maybe next year…”
Lebedev nodded thoughtfully.
“Where do you want to collect the weapons?” He asked, scratching his chin.
Drago shrugged.
“Where do you ship from?” He asked, not having a clue what Lebedev’s usual delivery terms would be.
“We have several options, through the Black Sea or the Baltic.” Lebedev confirmed. “But with what you’re looking for, our best option is to put your cargo on a ship sailing from Kaliningrad.”
Drago had once been to the Russian exclave on the Baltic during his time in the Russian military but wasn’t sure that it was the best place to sail from.
“Haven’t the military raised their presence in Kaliningrad over the last few years?” Drago asked. “Doesn’t that put the port under the spotlight with the other Baltic states, not to mention NATO.”
Lebedev grinned.
“Smart boy.” He nodded. “NATO have been keeping the Kaliningrad Oblast region under close scrutiny for three or four years. But all they’re interested in is the movement of military craft. They almost shoo commercial vessels out of the way as a nuisance they can’t wait to get rid of.”