Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1)

RUSSIAN LAW

Camille Taylor

Prologue

Six months ago

SVR
Headquarters,

Yasenevo,
Moscow, Russian Federation

Nikolai
Nagregor knew
time was running out.

He
had to find out how high this conspiracy went.

Who
could he trust? Who could he tell?

He
knew without question he could rely on Elena to help him, but he didn’t want to
put her in that position. He didn’t want to put her in any more jeopardy than
she was already in, if he could avoid it. Being his wife was hazardous enough without
intentionally placing her in jeopardy.

He
could feel cold eyes on him wherever he went, watching him. Waiting for him to
screw up and make a mistake, to allow his attention to be diverted just long
enough for them to strike. Whoever they were. Nowhere was safe, not even the
hallways of the building he had pledged his life to. Not when traitors walked
these very same corridors, plotting against the country they were supposed to
love and protect to their very last breath.

Nikolai
planned to bring every one of them to their knees. To make them pay dearly for
their crimes.

But
he was also a practical man and had taken precautions should things
unexpectedly go to shit. But still he hoped to avoid that outcome at all costs,
not just for him and his country but for his beautiful sweet wife.

Nikolai
couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Elena by herself, or to leave her with his
secret - his very dangerous secret. His unfortunate luck to stumble across the
biggest plot in his career. One that reached to God knows how high within his
Agency and being the agent he was, the man who wanted to make a difference in
the world – to the world - was somewhat appreciative. Now he only had to do
something about it, which was easier said than done.

Nikolai
adjusted the security pass on his navy blue suit jacket and picked up the file
folders he was to work on later tonight after dinner. His job was one that was
never really finished, there was always something that needed attending to,
more so with his most current case. Nikolai locked his office door and moved
down the hallway. The walls were a traditional off-white and the carpeted
floors were covered in a bland beige. Sterile was the one thing that came to
his mind as he passed through the first of several security check-points. His
pass beeped in par as the LED light on the swipe machine turned a fluorescent green.

Nikolai
nodded to the guard, easily concealing the gnawing stress and concern battling
inside of him. How easily it would be to dump the knowledge inside his head
into someone else’s lap. He would certainly live a longer, healthier life if he
could, he thought. But the realist inside Nikolai knew that without being able
to trust a colleague, even a Director completely he would have to face this
burden alone, at least until he knew more.

He
shifted the folders in his hands and thought about the coming night. His
polished black leather shoes barely made any sounds as he moved in efficient,
long strides towards the exit. Nikolai knew Elena would not be pleased when she
caught sight of the folders in his hands. It had been a long time since he had
come home empty handed and he wished with all his heart tonight could’ve been
one of them. The best he could do was to beat Elena home and surprise her with
one of his delicious home cooked dinners and draw his hard-working and patient
wife a magnificent bath with vanilla scented candles – her favorite.

Elena
deserved so much better. She deserved a husband who would be there, body and
mind but instead she was stuck with him. Elena knew how important his work was,
hers was equally as important so she cut him a fair amount of slack and he was
grateful to her. She was one amazing woman and he thanked God every day to be
sharing in her life.

He
only hoped that he would be there for the rest of it. It was a dangerous game
he was playing, one that could have deadly and disastrous consequences. Not
only to him but to their country. He often put his life on the line for his
job. It was all part and parcel of working for the SVR – Sluzhba Vneshney
Razvedki - Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service.

Nikolai
swiped his access card once more, the security doors automatically sliding open
and he walked towards the elevator that would get him to the ground floor. He
would soon be home and away from watchful eyes. He looked at his watch, five-fifty.
If everything went to plan he would still beat Elena home by an hour, just
enough time for a quick shower and to cook his apologetic dinner. Perfect, he
thought. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she walked through their
apartment door.

Within
minutes he was on the street, and an hour later he arrived home to the cozy
little apartment he shared with Elena. The feminine décor that she had assigned
the room greeted him and he refrained from grimacing. He had allowed her free
reign on decorating – a mistake in hindsight - where she could do whatever she
wanted to every room in the place except for his study and this was what she
had given him.

He
had been shocked to say the least when he had first seen what Elena had done
but the décor was there to stay and while it wasn’t the sleek, working
professional design he had envisioned her giving the apartment, he hadn’t
bothered to voice his slight displeasure and now as much as it pained him to
see it, everywhere he looked he saw his wife, his lovely Elena and that made it
worth every ruble.

Nikolai
took off his overcoat and hung it in the small closet by the door. He turned sharply
when he sensed another person’s presence. He immediately knew it wasn’t Elena,
he couldn’t smell her sweet perfume that generally clung to everything it
touched. His right hand immediately went to his pistol resting in the leather
holster that was attached to his belt. All agents were required to carry for
events such as this. He quickly withdrew the weapon, holding the Glock in his
hand steady and ready to fire.

He
crept forward into the main living quarters, keeping his breathing regulated,
making no sound as he advanced on the intruder. His eyes moved back and forth
across the room as he silently moved, navigating around tables and chairs that
stood in his way. He had home advantage. He caught sight of the dark figure. He
was well hidden and had Nikolai not been a professional, would most likely not
have seen him. He crouched down, keeping low to the ground as he crept closer.

“Nikolai
is that you?” the intruder said, looking out into the darkness of the apartment.
Nikolai stood still; he recognized the voice, had heard it often and smiled gratefully
even as he let out a deep breath, relief pouring into him. He hadn’t been
expecting his visitor until tomorrow.

Nikolai
straightened and returned his weapon to its place on his hip.

“How
did you know I was not Elena?”

The
man looked towards the sound of Nikolai’s voice. “I can’t smell gardenias,” he
replied simply.

Nikolai
smiled again, thoughts of Elena once more filling his head. Making him yearn to
hold her even just for a moment if that was all he’d be allowed. Ever since he
first met her in his office at SVR, as her supervisor, she had smelled deliciously
of gardenias - her signature scent. She had been such a wide-eyed innocent back
then and he had felt like the big bad wolf about to devour little red riding
hood. He had been ruthless in his pursuit of her.

He
cleared his mind of his wife, there would be plenty time for that later when
this matter was all settled. Now was the time he could finally let loose what
had been bothering him and get some input. The man before him had several years
dealing with such problems. He stepped forward.

Yes
everything would be alright now.

Between
the two of them, they would sort out this mess; find the conspirators before
they had a chance to commit their act of terrorism and potentially save
hundreds of lives in the process. Nikolai felt his body begin to relax and
realized for the first time just how tense he had been. He wasn’t usually one
to be so rattled by an impending attack but this one was no ordinary assault.
He turned his back and reached into his desk drawer to pull out a bottle of Stolichnaya
– one of Russia’s finest Vodka’s – and two small, sturdy glasses.

“I’m
glad you’re here,” he admitted truthfully, without worrying about what the admission
did to his ego. “This has been weighing heavily on me, gnawing away at me until
my stomach is lined with nothing but ulcers.”

His
companion raised an eyebrow. “Then you haven’t shared your findings with
Elena?”

Nikolai
shook his head, his short dark hair unaffected by the movement. “I didn’t want
to worry her.”

He
poured out two fingers of Vodka into the glasses.

“Yes,
although it seems you’ve been doing enough worrying for the both of you. Are
you sure she knows nothing? You know how Elena is and how attuned she is to
your emotions,” the man said, reasonably.

Nikolai
held out the glass to his guest, who shook his head. Nikolai took a deep
swallow of his, allowing the liquid to slide down his throat and warm his
belly.

“No,
she knows nothing. I made sure of it. Besides, in the past few weeks we’ve seen
very little of each other. I’ve been working hard just trying to understand
what I stumbled on and then there was the time spent trying to track you down.”

The
man shrugged. “They like to keep us busy and out of range. So you’re absolutely
sure Elena has no idea -”

“I
already told you she doesn’t. Why are you so interested -” Nikolai stopped,
something in his overworked brain clicked and reviewed the past few sentences.
His eyes widened, his movements too slow, so unexpected was this turn of event.

I
love you Elena
,
skittered across Nikolai Nagregor’s brain even as he drew his last breath.

The
man standing before him, the man who had called himself a friend, a trusted
member of the intelligence community put a bullet right between his eyes,
imbedding in his brain. He was so quick, lightning fast that Nikolai hadn’t
seen it coming until it was much too late, betrayed by the man he thought was
here to help him.

The
man moved efficiently about the apartment, looking through the drawers of
Nikolai’s desk. Finding nothing of interest to him, he moved on to the rest of
the apartment. Frustrated he began throwing things about, no longer caring to
keep his presence hidden. He knew the tricks agents like Nikolai Nagregor would
use but he wasn’t finding any here. No hidden drawers or hollowed out books. Nikolai
had been a cautious man, too bloody cautious in his opinion. He only had one
other option.

Elena.

If
Nikolai had left anything, Elena would find it and when she did he would know
about it and he would silence her just like he had Nikolai. It was time to
clean house, too many mistakes had already been made and too many loose lips
have been flapping. He took another cursory look about, checking that he had
left no clue as to his identity before exiting the same way he had entered.

Barely
an hour later, the apartment door opened and Elena stepped in, stopping dead
when she saw the chaos in which surrounded her. It was clear even to her that
the apartment had been ransacked. Drawers had been upturned and emptied,
cushions had been slashed and books thrown from the bookcase and amongst it all
was Nikolai, lying in a pool of his blood, dead to the world.