Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) (28 page)

Chapter Thirty Four

St. Petersburg
Russian Federation

Borgdanov paced the worn carpet of his hotel room. It had been over six hours since Ilya terminated their conversation so abruptly, and Borgdanov was worried — no news was definitely not good news. He’d already risked compromising them by contacting Ilya openly in the first place and by continuing to try to reach him since their last call, using the same burner phone on the off chance that Ilya’s circumstances were such that he may not have access to the other numbers. He fought the urge to try yet again, then jumped at the muffled buzz of a cell phone, momentarily puzzled until he realized it was not the one he’d been using, but one of the others in his suitcase. He threw the bag on the bed and wrestled with the straps, frantic lest he miss the call.

“
Da
!”

“Andrei, this is Dugan—”

“
Dyed
, is everyone all right? Why are you calling me instead of Ilya?”

“First, everyone is all right, though a bit the worse for wear. The bastards tried to blow up Alex’s house with us all inside. Ilya got everyone out in time, but he was the last out when it blew. He stopped a couple of flying bricks, one to the head and another to the torso. He has a concussion and some cracked ribs, but the doctor says he’ll be okay in a week or ten days. He — and you — saved all our lives, Andrei. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“
Nyet
. There is no need for thanks,
Dyed
. I am glad everyone is okay. But tell me of Cassie and Karina. Ilya said they are alive? I do not understand. I thought your rescue mission was unsuccessful.”

“So did we. Long story short, the guys on the ship rescued them and smuggled them ashore in the US. From there Cassie contacted Ward. I’ll bring you up to speed when we have more time, but for the moment, the
Bratstvo
think the girls are dead, and we’d like to keep it that way. We caught the asshole that planted the bombs, and he has no clue who the girls were, nor did he have time to mention it to his superiors, so we think we’re all right there for the moment.”

“What of Tanya?”

There was a long pause.

“Tanya didn’t make it. She died in the container before the rescue.”

“She was a brave young woman,” Borgdanov said, “so it seems we have yet another score to settle with these
mafiya
scum. But what is your situation now?”

“Officially, we’re all dead. That was Anna’s idea to buy us a little time while we figure out what to do. We’re all in an MI5 safe house.”

“
Da
. Is good idea. And soon, I do not think our
Bratstvo
friends will be a problem. Have Ilya call me when he can. I promised I would not start here without him, and I can give him a week, but then he needs to join me in Prague. I have things in motion here.”

“How is the recruitment going?”

“Much better since I got some help from an old friend. So tell Agent Ward I will need that favor as soon as possible.”

“How many?”

“Just the families for now.”

“How many, Andrei?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Uhh… including your shooters?”

“No. Seventy-two with the operators. Plus, of course, Ilya and myself, Ilya’s parents and Karina’s family. Eighty-two in all. Is this a problem,
Dyed
?”

“Not financially. Alex and I are committed to making it work, and Hanley bitched a little, but he’ll come through as well. But Jesse’s gonna shit. That’s a lot of people to provide with new identities and slip into the country. I think he normally works in ones and twos.”

“I think he will be more than satisfied when he sees the intelligence I have for him, but he will have to trust me for now. We need to get all the families out of Russia as soon as possible. The first of them travel tomorrow from St. Petersburg to Helsinki, Finland. It is a short flight, less than one hour. Also, there are flights to Helsinki from other cities, so the travel pattern won’t be so noticeable. If I get them all to Helsinki, how soon can you arrange a charter flight to get them to UK or directly to the US?”

“Probably within twenty-four to forty-eight hours, but I think we should bring them to the UK as tourists first. Jesse may need more time on his end.”

“Good. I will have them all in Finland in three days, so plan the charter flight accordingly.”

“Will do,” Dugan said. “What next?”

“We’ll hit the
Bratstvo
in Prague. It is their biggest operation outside of Russia itself, and they have less official protection there. Also, it is the center of their human-trafficking operations. I’m finalizing the operation and the extraction plans now. We should be able to execute within a few days after Ilya arrives.”

“We’ll be there.”

“We? No,
Dyed
, not you—”

“They’ve attacked me and the people I love. I have every right to be there.”

“
Da
. You have the right, but I must be truthful,
Dyed
. You do not have the ability to blend in or the military skills for this mission. You are an asset in many places, and if we were going on a ship, I would want you by my side, but here you would be a liability. Besides, we need someone to arrange things on that end.”

“Just a damn minute, Alexei—”

“
Dyed
, I would trust you with my life. I HAVE trusted you with my life. But now I entrust you with something even more precious, the lives of all our families. If something goes wrong or for some reason we do not come back, we need to know there is someone we can trust to take care of them. The others there are our friends, but you are our
brat
— our brother — and someone must remain to guard the family,
da
?”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or pissed off.”

“You can be either, or both, as long as we know you are looking after our loved ones.”

Dugan sighed. “All right. I’ll put up a draft email when I have the flight arrangements out of Helsinki. Keep an eye on the email account.”

Prague
Czech Republic
1 Week Later

Arsov sat at his old desk, watching a video of the latest whore being seasoned, a nice young brunette from Ekaterinburg in the Sverdlovsk Oblast. She was obviously of Tartar stock, with an exotic look about her that would no doubt make her a moneymaker with the right training. And he had to admit, Beria was doing a good job there. Between brutalizing the girl, and alternating periods of kindness with horrific threats to her family, he already had her broken. The rest would be easy.

Arsov’s approval was tempered with caution. Beria was both competent and ambitious, and couldn’t conceal his dissatisfaction at the demotion occasioned by Arsov’s unexpected return. Arsov had placated him to date with compliments and a bonus paid from his own pocket, but the man had run the Prague operation quite competently during Arsov’s absence, and obviously was chafing to do so again. He would bear watching. But that was a worry for another day. Satisfied everything was proceeding as it should, Arsov closed the training video and opened his browser to check out some British news sites.

He’d been elated the previous week to read of the destruction of the Kairouz house and the death of its occupants and assorted guests. He was particularly pleased they’d killed the ex-
Spetsnaz
sergeant, but sorry there had been no mention of Borgdanov. The whereabouts of the Russian former officer was troubling, but not unduly so. Nonetheless, Arzov continued to scout British news reports for any follow-up on the Kairouz bombing or any mention of Borgdanov. He considered contacting the Chief in St. Petersburg directly, to see if he had any information on Borgdanov, but thought better of it. The man frowned on unnecessary contact, and Arsov was doing his best to get back in the Chief’s good graces, so perhaps it was best to continue to do a good job here in Prague and to let the memory of the unfortunate situation in London fade. He’d bide his time until another opportunity presented itself.

He glanced at the clock at the bottom of his computer screen — 4 PM. He had time to make a run through all the clubs and brothels to keep everyone on their toes. He was sure Beria had everything in hand, but it didn’t pay to get sloppy, especially since his own position here was somewhat probationary. He powered down his computer and rose from the desk, just as he heard the distinctive ‘sphut’ of a suppressed weapon from the living room, followed by a crash.

“Boris?” he called. When his bodyguard failed to answer, he jerked open a desk drawer and retrieved a pistol. “Boris, are you there?” he called again as he moved toward the door.

Arsov burst into the hall, pistol in front of him in a two-handed grip. He swung the weapon right and then quickly back to the left before continuing down the hall toward the living room. He studied the living room over the sights of the pistol, the room deserted except for the very dead body of Boris lying on his back over the smashed glass coffee table, a perfectly round hole between his eyes leaking blood down the side of his face. He felt the stun gun pressed to the back of his skull and stiffened a split second before thousands of volts overwhelmed his nervous system.

***

Arsov’s eyes flew open, and he jerked his head back as the acrid smell of ammonia filled his nose. He glimpsed retreating hands in front of his face and struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He was in the ‘training’ bedroom in the apartment, but the bed had been disassembled and pushed up against the wall. More disconcerting still, he was naked and stretched spread eagle, face up in a half-reclining position, his wrists and ankles tightly bound to something immovable. His genitals rested slightly elevated on a flat piece of concrete shoved into his crotch. He heard movement behind him and tried to turn.

“Careful, Arsov,” a voice said. “You might strain your neck, and that can be very painful. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

The disembodied voice gained a face as a tall man moved into view and stood over him.

“But forgive me. Where are my manners? I am Major Andrei Borgdanov, and this gentleman” &mdash: he nodded at another large man that appeared at Arsov’s other side — “is Sergeant Ilya Denosovitch.”

“Yo-you’re supposed to be dead,” Arsov said to Denosovitch.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Denosovitch said.

“Wh-what do you want?” Arsov asked, and Borgdanov shrugged.

“Nothing too difficult. Just a little cooperation for now.”

“You are insane! Cooperate with you? Do you know what the
Bratstvo
would do to me? And no matter what you do to me, do you think they will let you get away with this? You are already dead, as are your families. But if you release me at once and leave, I will make sure that you are the only ones to die. This is your last chance to save your loved ones.”

Borgdanov nodded. “Thank you for your kind and generous offer, but we have already seen to the safety of our loved ones.”

“You fool! My men are undoubtedly on the way here now. I suggest you leave while you can.”

“Ah yes, your men. By that I presume you mean the forty-three
Bratstvo
thugs that make up your little ‘army’ here in Prague, spread out to guard your clubs and whorehouses? If so, I regret to inform you that they are all very dead and as we speak are being stacked on the floor of the central warehouse from which you distribute your porn and drugs.” Borgdanov looked thoughtful. “It really is amazing how easy it is to take out unsuspecting targets with relatively few trained men and suppressed weapons. Even the former
Spetsnaz
among your soldiers presented little challenge. Surprise really is key,
da
?”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Oh, but I’m not.” Borgdanov glanced at his watch. “And in exactly thirty minutes, their bodies, along with all your porn and drugs, will disappear in a raging warehouse fire.”

“You’ll never get away with—”

“Yes, I think we will, but before you so predictably threaten me next with the tame policemen the
Bratstvo
has in their pocket, let me save you the trouble. Eight hours ago, Chief Inspector Pavel Makovec was killed by a sniper, and shortly thereafter the other eighteen Prague policemen on your payroll received anonymous phone calls informing them they would be next, should they decide to assist you. They were also provided with details of their involvement with
Bratstvo
and a link and password to a website with full documentation of that involvement, and warned that should they provide any further assistance to your organization, the documentation would be sent to the international news media. Finally, we assured them their ‘compensation’ would continue to be funded if they would instead cooperate with us. All agreed.”

Borgdanov smiled. “So you see, Arsov, your tame policemen now work for me, and I don’t think the
Bratstvo
will be back in Prague for a long, long time. Perhaps you should consider cooperation,
da
?”

Arsov studied Borgdanov. The ex-
Spetsnaz
man didn’t appear to be bluffing, so perhaps it was time to hedge bets. He’d think of a way to spin it to the
Bratstvo
later, but for the moment his goal was survival.

“Very well,” Arsov said. “What do you want to know?”

“Nothing too difficult. Let’s begin with the passports. We rescued over a hundred women and children from your little operation. Where are their passports?”

“The passports for the women are in my safe in the office. I… I don’t have passports for all the kids. Most were taken on the streets. We normally arrange false papers when we need to move them.”

“Very well. Give us the combination.” Borgdanov nodded at Denosovitch, who produced a pad and pencil.

Arsov recited the combination as Denosovitch wrote it down and left the room. He returned a short time later and nodded at Borgdanov.