Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) (29 page)

“There are about eighty passports,” Denosovitch said.

Borgdanov looked down at Arsov.

“So. That was not so difficult, now was it, Arsov?”

Arsov shook his head. “What more do you want to know?”

Borgdanov looked puzzled. “Know? Nothing. We have all the information we need from you. Now we merely want you to die — slowly and painfully. Unfortunately, it will likely be a bit noisy as well, but given the former use of this room, I suspect it is soundproofed.” Borgdanov shrugged. “And if not, I’m sure the neighbors are accustomed to hearing screams and know to mind their own business,
da
?”

Arsov sat, stunned, as Borgdanov nodded to Denosovitch again and the man left the room.

“Wait,” said Arsov. “You should not kill me. I can help you. I know things, many things.”

“I’m sure you do, but we have much better sources. And besides, WE are not going to kill you. Someone else has claimed that right.”

“Hello, Arsov,” said a voice to his right, and he twisted his head to see a woman with short black hair enter the room at Denosovitch’s side. He recognized the voice, but not the — Karina. Of course, Denosovitch’s niece.

“K-Karina? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it’s ‘Karina,’ now, is it, Arsov? Not ‘whore’ or ‘slut’ or any of the other little pet names you called us. I’m so honored you remembered my name. But how about what you called me at first when I could still fight back? Do you remember what you used to say when you beat me and raped me and watched while the others did as well. Because I remember it very well. What was it now? Oh, yes. You would shout, ‘That will teach you, you little slut. That will teach you to be a ball breaker.’”

Arsov had been so fixated on the face and the voice, he’d noticed little else, but he flinched now as Karina looked down at his exposed genitals and smiled before she lifted a sledgehammer she’d kept down at her side.

“So finally, Arsov, it seems I really am to become a ball breaker,” Karina said as she took the handle of the hammer in a two-handed grip and raised it above her head.

“This is for me and Tanya and all the others,” Karina said, and she started toward him.

***

Ilya sat on the sofa in the living room, holding Karina close as she sobbed. Slowly she regained control of herself.

“I-I am sorry, Uncle Ilya.”

“Shhh… little Karinka,” Ilya said. “Do you think I WANTED you to do this horrible thing? It is only because you insisted that I let you try. But it broke my heart, and I am GLAD you could not. It means the monsters have not conquered you and stolen your humanity. You are our little Karinka still. Brave beyond measure, yes, but not hard. Not brittle and bitter.”

Karina pulled back and looked at her uncle. “But what do you mean?”

“I mean that when you take another life, no matter how justified, you lose a bit of yourself. You cannot understand until you do it, and I cannot explain. Sometimes, if you are very angry, it is a good feeling, like a toothache when it stops, but then it becomes an empty feeling. It uses up a little of your soul, I think.”

“But, Uncle Ilya, you are a soldier, so—”

“I am not immune, Karinka, but soldiers have tricks. We deceive ourselves and count our enemies only as ‘targets,’ but in a case like this where the fight is very personal, yes, we pay the price when we kill. It is a price worth paying to protect those we love, but I am glad you did not have to pay it. You have suffered enough, and this is my job,
da
?”

Karina fell silent and hugged him tightly, and Ilya returned her embrace and kissed the top of her head, then gently disengaged himself.

“Stay here now. I must go see the major. It will all be over soon.” Ilya stood up.

He walked down the hall and through the door into the training room, closing the door behind him. Arsov lost control of his bodily functions when Karina had started toward him with the hammer, and the stench in the room was almost overpowering. Arsov slumped in the mess, whimpering as the major leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed. Borgdanov looked up.

“I considered finishing him, but I think his fate belongs to you. What do you want to do with him, Ilya?”

Ilya shook his head. “I intended to make him suffer, but he is not worth it. He is only a cockroach, and I will not let him steal anymore of my humanity than he already has.”

Borgdanov nodded. “
Da
, you are right. Then step on him quickly, and let’s get out of here.”

Ilya drew his pistol and shot the cockroach between the eyes.

Regional HQ
Federal Security Service (FSB)
St. Petersburg
Russian Federation

Vladimir Glazkov looked down, both surprised and annoyed as the cell phone buzzed in the desk drawer. The phone was meant for one-way communication only except in extreme emergencies, so an incoming call couldn’t be anything but bad news — or an idiot that would live to regret disturbing him. He yanked open the drawer and looked at the incoming number. Arsov! He should have guessed. He stifled a curse and answered the phone.

“
Da
?”

“Ah. Comrade Glazkov. Good afternoon. Sorry to disturb you,” a cheerful voice said.

Glazkov’s blood ran cold. No one except those in the highest circles knew his real identity, certainly not Arsov, and that wasn’t the fool’s voice anyway. He hesitated, torn between hanging up and the need to know more.

“You have the wrong number. There is no one here by that name.”

There was an audible sigh. “Very well, then. I will call you ‘Chief’ if you prefer. It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Who is this?”

“Oh, forgive me. I am Major Andrei Borgdanov, formerly of the
Spetsnaz
, but I think you know that. And as you can see, I’m calling from the phone of your late associate, Sergei Arsov.”

“I know no one of that name, Major — Borgdanov, is it? I’m sorry, but once again, I believe you have the wrong number.”

“And yet, we continue to chat. But perhaps we can end this charade. I presume you’re sitting in your office at the FSB, so may I ask you to check your email — not your FSB address, but the ‘secret’ encrypted one you use to correspond with the rest of the
Bratstvo
leadership.”

“Again, Major, I believe you are misinformed.” Glazkov struggled to keep the fear from his voice as his fingers flew over the keyboard. In seconds he’d found the single email from an anonymous sender and opened it. He scrolled through it with a growing sense of alarm.

“I think you should have it open by now,” Borgdanov said. “And you will see the organizational chart that shows your true identity, along with the identities of the other top
Bratstvo
leaders, along with the positions they occupy in government or legitimate businesses. I emphasize that this is just a small sample of the information I have.”

“What do you want?”

“It is not a question of what I want, Glazkov, because what I want, I will take. This is more a matter of an exchange of information to prevent you from making a mistake. A matter of courtesy, so to speak.”

“Go on.”

“A few hours ago, we destroyed your Prague operation. All of your men there, including Mr. Arsov, are dead. All of your victims have been released and taken to a place of safety, and your warehouse full of drugs, porn, and illegal weapons is presently burning brightly. Additionally, you will no longer enjoy the protection of the Prague police, and should you attempt to make new inroads there, I believe you will find your overtures most unwelcome. Do you understand?”

“You are playing a dangerous game, Borgdanov. You understand, of course, that you are a dead man?”

“Ah, but we are all dead men the moment we are born, are we not, Glazkov? Only the timing and manner of our deaths is in question, and I believe mine will be both peaceful and some time away.”

“Believe what you want. You are not a match for the
Bratstvo
. How can you possibly hope to stand against us?”

“Because Glazkov, the information in that email and much, much more is hidden on encrypted servers in several locations worldwide, and in the event of my untimely death by any means, it will be transmitted to every major law enforcement organization as well as to every major news outlet within a matter of hours. The world will know who you really are, what you do, and how you do it, all in sufficient detail to bring your operations to a halt.”

“So what? Of course it will be an inconvenience to be so identified, but we are untouchable here in Russia, and do you really think we care about world opinion?”

“No, but I think you care about the money that buys the influence and power you enjoy in Russia, and if I’m reading the data correctly, over 75 percent of that revenue — 76.73 percent to quote your latest cash flow report — comes from operations outside of Russia. How long do you think your empire can last even in Russia without the cash to buy the influence you currently enjoy?”

Glazkov sat stunned, imagining the dissolution of all he’d built, until Borgdanov spoke again.

“Glazkov?”

“All right, Borgdanov. What do you want? Part of our operations, I presume?”

“We do not want to play your filthy games, Glazkov. We wish to be neither competitors nor partners. For the moment, we will settle for a truce. Accept that your operations in Prague are finished, withdraw from the UK, and make no attempt to retaliate against anyone connected with this affair, and we will leave you alone.”

“For the moment?”

“Nothing lasts forever, Glazkov,” Borgdanov replied. “I have no doubt you will begin maneuvering to eliminate us as soon as this call is finished, regardless of what you agree to now. I suggest that if you are so inclined that you first test us in a limited manner, so when I crush your attempts, it will be less painful for you. Remember that I can release information selectively, making sure the damage it does to you is more than proportionate to any harm you might do to me. However, be aware that if any of your actions results in harm to any of my people or their families, the truce is over, and it will be all-out war.”

“You are an arrogant bastard, Borgdanov.”

“I prefer to think of it as confident.”

“And only time will tell if that confidence is justified. Now. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“One minor detail. In the email I sent you is the account information for one of
Bratstvo
’s bank accounts in Liechtenstein. As noted in the email, I took the liberty of making a small withdrawal to cover our expenses.”

Glazkov turned back to his computer screen and moved his mouse, his blood pressure spiking as he read the note.

“You took it ALL! THERE WAS FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS IN THAT ACCOUNT!”

“A part of which will be used to relocate your victims and their families, as well as to provide counseling. And the rest, well, the rest we’ll need to fund ongoing operations. We’ll try to get by with what’s left, but I suspect mounting a defense against potential attacks will be expensive. A great deal of that depends on you, of course.”

Glazkov struggled to compose himself as the silence grew.

“You are a dead man, Borgdanov,” he said at last.

“Without doubt. But not tomorrow.”

Glazkov sighed. “No. Not tomorrow.”

“And may I presume we have an agreement for the moment?”

“
Da
. For the moment.”

“Wonderful. It was very nice talking to you, Comrade Glazkov, and do try to keep things in perspective,
da
?” Borgdanov said just before Glazkov heard the click of the disconnect.

He rested his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

Epilogue

Yacht Sea Tiger
Atlantic Ocean
East of Jacksonville, Florida
Six Weeks Later

Dugan raised his head as the Orthodox priest finished the Russian prayer, and everyone joined in the collective amen. There was a gentle breeze moving across the swim platform on the stern of the large yacht, and he looked out over the blue sky and bluer sea with a sad smile. It was a beautiful day to say goodbye to a beautiful person.

The priest murmured something to Tanya’s parents, and they stepped to the stern rail, Tanya’s fiancé, Ivan, at their side. Tanya’s father tossed a huge floral wreath onto the surface of the sea, and everyone else in the small group stood silently for a long moment and then began to fade back, leaving Tanya’s parents and Ivan some time alone with their grief. The charter captain and his five-man crew had manned the rail nearby, all in crisp white uniforms and standing at attention, but the captain left his position now and moved quietly to Dugan’s side, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question.

“Let her drift here as long as they want,” Dugan said quietly. “If they look like they’re ready to go, check with me first, and I’ll confirm it with them.”

The captain nodded and dismissed his crew, who moved away quietly to resume their duties. The captain remained nearby looking over the side but keeping a discreet eye on the grieving family, as Dugan followed the rest of the small group of mourners inside.

The crew had prepared a bountiful buffet lunch in the yacht’s spacious salon, and the mourners gathered there in small groups as the steward circulated, taking drink orders. Nigel and Cassie stood in one corner, talking quietly with Ilya, Karina and the priest, while Dugan stood with Alex and Gillian, chatting with Borgdanov. Mrs. Hogan had declined the invitation, on the grounds that she got seasick standing on the dock and didn’t feel up to an ocean voyage, no matter how short.

“Alex,” Borgdanov said, “it was very generous of you to charter this beautiful boat and fly Tanya’s people here all the way from Russia. I know that they appreciate it. It is wonderful gesture, and I thank you for it.”

Alex shook his head. “It was the least we could do. I hope it gives them some closure.”

Beside him, Gillian nodded and brushed away a tear. She started to speak but then shook her head and smiled sadly, as if she didn’t trust her own voice.

“Well, I know it means a great deal to them, and to young Ivan too,” Borgdanov said. “Evidently he has been going crazy searching for Tanya. He seems like good boy.”

The others nodded agreement, and the conversation drifted towards silence, continuing in fits and starts until the captain appeared at the door to the salon and caught Dugan’s eye.

“I think they’re ready, Mr. Dugan,” the captain said as Dugan reached the door.

Dugan nodded and looked over to where Borgdanov now stood with Karina, and beckoned them over to join him as translators.

They found Ivan and Tanya’s parents standing together on the swim platform, looking unsure what to do. Karina hurried to their side, and after confirming that they were ready to leave, gently urged the trio inside to get something to eat. Dugan turned to the captain.

“How long back to Jacksonville?”

The captain looked out at the sea. “Sea’s like a mill pond. Four hours maybe, four and a half tops.”

“Okay. Let’s head back.”

The captain nodded and left, and less than two minutes later the engine speed began to slowly increase as the bow of the vessel swung due west. Dugan stood at the stern rail with Borgdanov and looked aft as the breeze washed over them.

“So how is Texas?” Dugan asked.

Borgdanov chuckled. “Odessa, Texas, is very different from Odessa in the Ukraine, so I think whoever chose this name has vivid imagination or strange sense of humor.”

Dugan laughed. “I thought it might be a bit of an adjustment. But seriously, are all your people okay? Handley’s treating you all right?”

“
Da
. Better than all right, and Mr. Ray Handley’s ranch is far from town in middle of nowhere, and we can see anyone coming for a very long way.” He moved his arms in a sweeping gesture. “It is like being here, in middle of ocean, so security is very easy.”

Borgdanov nodded. “No, we could not ask for more,
Dyed
. He brought in many of the houses on wheels — how you call them, mobile homes? But they are very big! Woody tells me they are called ‘double times,’ I think.”

Dugan grinned. “I think you mean double-wides.”

“
Da
, double-wides. Anyway they are much bigger than anyone’s old apartment in Russia. He laid them all out with streets, and somewhere he even found Russian teacher, so we also have school for the children. We have regular Russian village,” Borgdanov said. “Of course, is temporary, but everyone is learning English, and the children are learning very fast. We will move in time, but there is no hurry, I think.”

“No regrets?”

Borgdanov gave him a sad smile. “Our hearts are Russian,
Dyed
, so there will always be regrets. But we appreciate the opportunity you have all given us to safeguard our families, so we will try to be good Americans too. The children are very happy, especially the younger ones.”

“And,” Borgdanov continued, “I am happy that thanks to Arkady, we can repay you, Alex, and Mr. Ray Handley for the money you have spent.”

“About your friend Arkady — you do know Ward’s lusting after that intelligence, right?”

Borgdanov nodded. “I understand, and we will do anything Ward requires of us, as agreed. I will also give him anything he needs to support an operation, or if he wants specific information about something in Russia or elsewhere, I will help him all I can. But I will not turn over everything I got from Arkady, because when we are not working for Ward, we will work on our own.” He smiled. “We are Americans now, and I believe in free enterprise,
da
? Also, I am reminded of what Archimedes said about levers.”

Dugan thought a moment. “With a lever and a place to stand, I’ll move the world?”

“
Da
,” Borgdanov nodded. “Arkady gave me a very great lever, and you and the others have given us a safe place to stand. And I don’t want to move the world, just Russia.”

“So it’s not over between you and the
Bratstvo
?”

Borgdanov’s face hardened, and he looked at the eastern horizon.

“Oh no,
Dyed
. It has only just begun.”