Gemini Series Boxset

by Ty Patterson

  The left button was for Something weird happening, while the right one was for In trouble. Come shooting.

  All the suits clambered in the front, which made her wonder how large the vehicle was.

  Large enough to accommodate all of us, for sure.

  The inside was soft leather in muted colors. More than sufficient leg room. Arm and headrests. A console in each of the armrests.

  Beth squeaked in delight when she pressed a button and a built-in massager came to life.

  ‘There are drinks in the bar in front of you,’ a disembodied voice came through the speakers.

  ‘Why don’t you just drive?’ Beth snapped back, then closed her eyes and went back to being massaged.

  ‘Why do you think he wants to meet us?’ she asked Meghan.

  ‘To check us out.’

  The four suits escorted the sisters inside a marble-walled and pillared building. It had an enormous lobby, a large chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, and discreet security.

  Fourth took the lead and guided them to a bank of elevators.

  He spoke softly into a mic in the wall panel, and the doors opened.

  The car was large enough to hold twenty people and was done in carpet, gold leaf, and brass mirrors.

  It didn’t have any buttons to be pressed, no floor lights.

  It opened into a large hallway, a burly man standing guard.

  He ran a detector over them and silently held out two trays. They placed their Glocks in them and, when he didn’t move, put their cell phones in the containers.

  ‘Jackets.’ He pointed.

  They removed those too.

  He ran another detector over their bodies and finally nodded at Fourth, who led them inside an enormous room.

  At one end was a walnut desk, a few chairs around it, and at the other end were several couches.

  Fourth took them to the desk and bade them seat themselves.

  Meghan swiftly checked out the room. No sign of Gorbunov. The four men lined up behind them. Large shaded windows to their right, through which Central Park could be seen.

  There was no sound in the room. Insulation kept out the street noise and deadened any interior sounds.

  A man coughed, clothing rustled, but other than that, there was only silence.

  That broke when a hidden door to the side of the desk opened.

  Valentine Gorbunov emerged, followed by a man in an expensive-looking brown suit, both of them talking in hushed whispers.

  Gorbunov stopped on seeing the sisters and frowned.

  His brow cleared as he clicked his fingers as if just remembering.

  ‘You are the babes helping Patten.’ He smiled widely, displaying even, white teeth.

  Russian mafia heads could afford dentists, good ones at that.

  Babes.

  Meghan looked at Beth and the two rose silently and started walking out of the room.

  The four heavies blocked them, staring back impassively.

  ‘What? You don’t like my company?’ Gorbunov growled, then laughed. ‘Babes? You didn’t like that? I am sorry. Come, come. Please sit. I am sorry. You see, I am new to your language. In Russia, for me every woman is babe.’

  Beth raised her eyebrow at her sister, who nodded imperceptibly.

  They returned to their seats and watched as Gorbunov made a show of rolling back his sleeve, glancing at an expensive watch and mumbling under his breath. Brown Suit stood silently, watching, observing, his face impassive.

  ‘You are wondering why I wanted to meet you?’ he asked when he was done with his routine.

  ‘Nope,’ Meghan replied. ‘You wanted to see how good we are.’

  The Russian scowled, and then his face cleared and the smile returned. ‘You are smart. Good. That makes it easy for me. We don’t need to go into history. I am sure you know it.’

  The warmth disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Stop helping him. You work in a security firm, no? Go back to your jobs. Don’t get in the way of Patten and me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I asked. Nicely.’ A feral look appeared on his face. ‘In my country, when I ask nicely, people do it. Otherwise they see my not-so-nice side.’

  ‘You are in our country, however.’

  ‘Your country, my country. It’s the same. Same jungle. More fancy cars and big buildings here, that’s all.’

  ‘Why did it take so long for you to wake up? You met his father years back. But you approached Cole Patten only recently. Why?’ Beth asked, curious.

  They had their own routine. Meghan went in hard and aggressive, Beth played sweet and nice. They didn’t hesitate to use their looks and feminine charm, if needed.

  ‘I was growing.’ Gorbunov flung his hands out expansively. ‘Sokolov was a star, and I was helping him. Billy Patten’s rejection hurt. Bitterly. I lost big opportunity. But I put my ambition on hold. Sokolov was more important. Now he’s big, I am also big. It was time to make contact again.’

  ‘You are a businessman. I’m sure you have lost deals before. Why is this so important? Is it because of China?’

  ‘China? That’s important to Salaluga Corporation. My honor is important to me. Billy Patten dishonored me. Then his son did the same. Nobody does that to Valentine Gorbunov.’

  ‘Nobody knows and nobody really cares what happened.’

  ‘I do,’ he said fiercely.

  ‘You have a big ego.’

  ‘Da. Huge. Bigger than Russia or America, or the two combined.’

  ‘You intend to kill Cole Patten?’

  ‘No,’ Gorbunov rasped. ‘He has to live to see what crossing me means. He won’t die. But he won’t live happily ever after.’

  ‘He may not be Cole Patten. Your allegation might be right.’

  ‘Don’t care. Salaluga will buy Chisholm, and I will crush Billy Patten’s son, whoever he is.’

  ‘You talk big for a thug,’ Meghan said contemptuously. ‘You’re just a parasite. You rode on Sokolov’s coattails in your country, and now you’re trying to act as if you’re big and important. You aren’t.

  ‘I’m glad you sent your limo,’ she continued without letting him respond. ‘It saved us a ride. We were going to call on you. To tell you that we have no great interest in knowing who Patten is. His is an interesting problem, but we took on that case because of you. We love taking Russian gangsters down.’

  She paused for breath. Gorbunov didn’t speak. His face was flushed. His big hands opened and closed, but he didn’t utter a word.

  ‘You won’t crush Patten, because we will destroy you before that.’

  Valentine Gorbunov snapped.

  Chapter Eleven

  He yelled inarticulately and surged across the walnut desk.

  Meghan heard commotion behind her. The suits moving. Someone yelling, Beth’s chair squeaking.

  She paid no attention to any of it.

  Gorbunov’s face filled her vision. His eyes were mean, and he was mouthing curses as he lunged over the vast desk, his hands reaching out for her.

  She reached forward instead of evading.

  Slapping his groping palms away, she grabbed him by the collar and smashed the side of his head on the desk.

  She rammed her elbow into his temple, applied pressure, and only then looked up.

  The four suits had their guns out and had closed in on Beth and her.

  ‘Stop!’ Brown Suit was yelling.

  ‘Release him or we shoot,’ Fourth hissed.

  ‘Back off,’ Meghan countered calmly. ‘If I apply enough pressure, I can severely damage him.’

  ‘We will shoot,’ Fourth shouted.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Stop!’ Brown Suit roared, silencing everyone. ‘Ma’am, please let him go. Grigor, you and your men stand down. Both Valentine and the visitors have said their piece. This stops right here.’

  Meghan snatched a glance at him and caught the faintest look of pleading on his face.

  She relented and moved
away.

  ‘No, Valentine. Don’t say a word,’ Brown Suit warned in Russian when the mafia boss rose, spitting mad.

  Gorbunov didn’t say anything. His eyes filled with hate as he glared at the sisters. He gave a sharp nod to Grigor. ‘Take them away.’

  The heavy sheathed his gun, his men following suit. They crowded the sisters and herded them to the door.

  ‘That was a bad move, babe,’ Gorbunov called out as they reached the door. ‘Now you have me as an enemy, and I am the worst one anyone could wish for.’

  ‘Is that the best you’ve got, Gorbunov?’ Meghan chuckled. ‘You should do your research better. You don’t know us. Now, you will.’

  Gorbunov straightened when they had left his office. He wiped his mouth and looked at the palm. There was a smear of red on it. He dabbed his lips with a paper towel and threw it carelessly aside.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Lavrov asked, concerned.

  ‘Yes. This is just blood. There will come a time when I shed theirs.’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘I am a good actor, no?’

  Lavrov relaxed in return. ‘Da. You think they bought it?’

  ‘Of course,’ Gorbunov sniggered. ‘Any thought they had of stopping, cutting Patten loose—gone. They will be more determined now to find out.’

  ‘You are sure there’s something to be found?

  ‘Da.’ The mafia boss exuded confidence. ‘I know Billy Patten didn’t have enough money, even after the family loan. That mine cost five million. The rest of it came from somewhere. We are talking about millions.’

  Lavrov rubbed his jaw reflexively. ‘He could have been lying to you.’

  Gorbunov went to the large windows and watched in silence, his hands on his hips.

  ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘He wasn’t. We told each other everything. I told him about my kills. He told me about his, in Vietnam. He said he had been involved in a racket there. Something illegal. Didn’t go into many details. We bonded, like men do who have the same ambition. It was only when that other money came that he changed. He was my friend until that point. Then he betrayed me.’

  ‘You can investigate yourself. You don’t need the Petersens to find this for you.’

  ‘We have covered this,’ Gorbunov replied in irritation. ‘You are the one who advised me to keep a low profile. The FBI will be watching me. Maybe other agencies. It is best this way.’

  He stared at a couple of female joggers moodily. They looked like the twins, and as they ran in the park, their blonde hair bounced up and down their necks.

  He had visited America one last time before his permanent move to the new country. He had gone to Chisholm, to inspect other mines for acquisition.

  There, he had met a former employee of Billy Patten.

  That man, Jim Rogish, had somehow slipped through the security cordon around the Russian and said he knew Gorbunov.

  ‘Saw you that last time, when Billy and you came to Chisholm. I was in the diner, behind you guys. Overheard your plans.’

  ‘So?’ Gorbunov replied, bored.

  ‘I was his foreman. I worked in the mine he bought. Ran a tight ship for him. And then he canned me.’

  ‘Get to it.’ Gorbunov was distracted. Such tales didn’t interest him.

  ‘He betrayed you.’

  ‘Don’t I know it?’ he scoffed.

  ‘He lied when he said he got the money from his wife’s family. They only lent him a small amount—three million. The rest of it came from outside. Outside the country.’

  That caught the Russian’s attention. He withdrew a roll of bills and peeled a few off.

  ‘Tell me everything.’

  Rogish didn’t have much more to tell. Late one night, Billy Patten had been drunk in the mine.

  He had come to the foreman’s office and leaned against the door. ‘They think I’m a hero.’ He weaved and straightened. ‘What do they know?’

  ‘You’ve done well, boss. Built a steel business up from nothing. That’s something to be proud of.’

  ‘And you know who helped me?’

  ‘Your wife’s family?’

  ‘They did, some. But a lot of it came from outside.’

  ‘Outside, boss?’

  ‘Yeah. From another country. You’re a good man, Jim. Stay like that.’ And with that, Patten had walked away.

  ‘I tried to find out,’ Rogish said quietly. ‘I asked discreetly. Patten came to hear about my investigation and he fired me. On the spot.’

  Gorbunov pursed his lips, wondering if there was anything in Rogish’s story. He paid the foreman and returned to Russia.

  The story had remained at the back of his mind. He relocated to America, had tried to investigate himself, but Lavrov had dissuaded him.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Gorbunov had protested. ‘If Billy Patten had illegal funds, that interests me. Where did the money come from? And is there more of it? It will also ruin Chisholm, if it’s true. I can buy it for nothing.’

  ‘Don’t.’ Lavrov had been curt. ‘You have a reputation. There will be eyes on you. Stick to clean business.’

  And then he had heard of the twins, and everything had fallen into place. The twins would find everything about Billy Patten. He wouldn’t need to lift a finger. All he needed to do was keep tabs on them. He had good people for that.

  And if there was nothing about Billy’s funding, nothing illegal, then Gorbunov wouldn’t have wasted any resources.

  All he had needed to do was give the sisters a nudge. Make them more motivated.

  After studying their files, he knew the only way to do that was by antagonizing them.

  Gorbunov was pleased with his day’s work when he left the office.

  Lavrov was with him, as was Grigor.

  He took the elevator to the ground floor, making small talk.

  He strode out, confident, sure of himself, a Russian mafia head who had nothing to fear.

  And then he saw the two men leaning against his car.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘That him?’ Roger chewed a toothpick as Gorbunov and his men came closer.

  ‘Let’s see.’ Bwana crossed his arms. ‘Looks like a thug, walks like a thug, is accompanied by thugs. Yeah, that’s him.’

  Grigor stepped around his boss, his hand waving imperiously. ‘Step away, please. That’s a private car.’

  ‘We know that, dude. Why do you think we parked our butts here?’ Bwana laughed. ‘We want to talk to Gorbunov.’

  ‘No talking.’ Lavrov closed in. ‘We don’t know you. Make an appointment if you want to speak to Mr. Gorbunov.’

  ‘Now that.’ Roger grinned. ‘You bring up an important point. We don’t want to speak to him. Not really. We don’t even like him. He’s an insect. But we have to talk to him.’

  Lavrov stopped, Gorbunov behind him, Grigor to one side. ‘What’s this about? Should I call security?’ He turned his head and addressed the security man in Russian. ‘Grigor, where are your men?’

  ‘Those suits? Three of them?’ Bwana asked him helpfully in the same language. ‘They’re in the car. Indisposed. Stomach problem. Grigor, you really need to recruit better men. They just fell down when we went near them.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Gorbunov barked.

  ‘He speaks,’ Roger exclaimed, though there was no humor in his eyes. ‘I think that was meant for us.’

  ‘Seeing as there’s no one else here, I would assume so.’

  ‘I don’t have time for this,’ Gorbunov said through clenched teeth. ‘You have five minutes, and then I am calling the police.’

  ‘Beth and Meghan Petersen. Stay away from them. Don’t send cars. Don’t talk to them. No contact. We see any of your goons near them, they won’t walk away. Not on their own two feet.’

  ‘You are threatening my client,’ Lavrov snapped even as Grigor surged forward, his hand reaching under his jacket.

  Bwana jabbed him in the chest before the heavy’s gun appeared. Grigor lost his balance and stumbled. Before he
could recover, Bwana put his hand around his shoulder.

  Only a close observer would notice it was an armlock that restrained the Russian.

  ‘Yeah, that’s a threat. What are you going to do about it?’ Roger spat out his toothpick insolently.

  He let the tense silence build for a moment before he nodded at his friend.

  ‘Don’t choke Grigor. Boss man has to yell at him. He has to stay conscious for that.’

  Bwana released the heavy, and the two sauntered away, disappearing into the pedestrian traffic.

  ‘Who were they?’ Gorbunov choked out, his face red in rage.

  ‘They work in the same firm as the sisters.’ Kirilov appeared beside him, as if conjured from thin air. ‘Bwana and Roger. Bwana’s the black man. Should I take care of them?’

  ‘No.’ The anger receded from the mafia boss’s face. ‘We need the sisters. They’ll do our work for us.’

  Zeb slurped his juice noisily as he stared curiously. That’s what tourists did.

  He had a camera around his neck, a map by his side, a backpack on his shoulders, and a Yankees cap on his head. Tourist attire.

  He was in a juice bar opposite Gorbunov’s building. He had a good view and had watched the byplay, inwardly amused.

  Bwana and Rog. Only they could pull off a stunt like that.

  Zeb had followed the cab driver outside the Columbus Avenue office and had tracked him to Gorbunov’s office. He had then researched the Russian and read up on the backstory between him and Billy Patten.

  He made a louder slurp when Kirilov appeared.

  That dude’s new. He wasn’t in any of the files. He snapped several photographs discreetly and watched the killer.

  No wasteful movements. Eyes constantly moving. I bet this guy’s good. Very good at being bad.

  He sent the pictures to Werner as the pale man spoke to Gorbunov briefly and went back inside the building.

  Zeb decided to hang around.

  He has to emerge sooner or later. Then I’ll follow him.

  Beth and Meghan, unaware of all that had happened, were on their phones.