Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) (4 page)

He
went to his bedroom and pulled out his carry-on from the closet and started
packing. He came across some articles of clothing left by Marlie. He tossed
them across the room towards the bin. He didn’t plan on seeing the woman again
and he wasn’t about to go out of his way to return her clothes to her. As far
as he was concerned anything she left in her bid to get out of his life was
fair game.

Lucas
turned his attention back to packing. Although it barely required much thought
these days, the action second nature that his hands automatically picked up his
razor, comb, toothbrush and toothpaste from the ensuite. The only thing that
ever changed was the locations. He had never been to Russia before and this
would be a new experience to him. He made sure he packed some long johns. It
got cold in Russia,. He was only half joking to Jim when he mentioned his balls
might freeze and drop off.

He
threw in his cell phone charger and zipped up the carry-on. He was now ready,
tucking his passport into his pocket as he mentally ran through the GPS in his
head, picking out the fastest route that would bypass the bulk of traffic out
at this time of day. In two hours he would be boarding his flight bound for Moscow.

Chapter 4

Elena
Ivanova opened
the large glass door and entered the building housing SVR headquarters. She
swiped her identification badge in the reader and headed down the hallway. She
had worked for SVR for over five years as an inter-agency liaison officer. It
was a job she loved and did well. She had connections in almost every Intelligence
Agency in the world. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to
her floor.

After
her husband had died, Elena had been subjected to months of grief counseling
and was made to see the agency’s psychologist. None of which had helped her.
Talking about the unfairness of life seemed pointless to her and the only thing
that could make anything right was closure, which she knew she would never get.
Not while Nikolai was still on her mind and he would never leave her, she wouldn’t
allow him to.

Soon
Elena was entering her office and sighed out loud at the stack of papers on her
desk. The pile was never-ending. She dumped her purse into her desk drawer and
removed her coat before sitting down at her wood  desk. She barely had time for
her bottom to hit the soft cushion of the seat when a brisk knock sounded at
her door and was immediately opened. Surprised, Elena looked up at the man
standing in her doorway. She stared at him coolly as he entered her office and
closed the door behind him.

SVR
Director Vladimir Mishkin looked over at her as he walked toward her desk. She
stood as he drew near. She knew how much he hated it since when she was
standing they stood eye to eye. At five foot six this was not much of an
accomplishment on her behalf.

“What
can I owe this honor Director Mishkin?” she asked.

Vladimir
Mishkin looked about her office, at the stack of paperwork on her desk before
looking back at Elena.

“I
need you to work on a case.”

Elena’s
eyebrow went up. She crossed her arms under her breasts and leant against her
desk. She hadn’t been expecting this. For the past six months she had been
confined to her desk, now she was being offered an active case
and
by
the Director of SVR. Go figure.

She
nodded, understanding. “Meaning no one else wanted to do it?”

Vladimir
narrowed his eyes. She knew she had hit the nail on the head. She had heard rumors
around the proverbial water cooler that a CIA Agent was on his way here. She
just never thought that she would be the liaison officer. Nor did she
particularly wish for the job. American’s have a rather bad reputation that
couldn’t be ignored.

“The
American Agent is due in a matter of hours. I would not be asking you but as
you can see I am in a bind.”

Yes
she could see that.

“How
long is he anticipated to stay? I have other work I wish to complete and don’t
want my time to be monopolized.”

“I
would want your complete attention on this matter Agent Ivanova. I don’t wish
him to be running about unattended.” He studied her carefully. “If you agree to
do this, I will reinstate you to live status.”

She
smiled. “You must be desperate Director. I’ve been told until I complete my
stages of grieving and the psychologist signs off on my mental health that
these walls is all I’ll be seeing for a very long while.”

Mishkin
frowned. “You are very stubborn.”

“That’s
what Nikolai loved so much about me,” she told him sadly. “But I will accept
your terms Director. I miss the people connection I once had and let’s face it
no one likes paperwork.”

Vladimir
Mishkin looked at her as if she was something under a microscope. “Are you sure
you’re ready for this? I could see if -”

“I’ve
been ready for six months Director Mishkin,” Elena interrupted. “In fact I’ve
needed it.”

Vladimir
nodded. “Very well Elena,” he said, using her first name, something he did
rarely. “But step lightly you will be watched closely.”

“I’m
not going to go off the deep end,” she promised firmly.

She
had learned it was easiest to keep her mouth shut and work in silence. At least
until she had the evidence she needed.

“Then
the case is all yours,” Director Mishkin said and turned around, walking
towards the door. Elena followed him out of her office.

“So,
who is this American Agent?”

Lucas
hated to fly, he hated the cramped seats that didn’t allow him to properly
stretch his long legs out comfortably. He hated the damn in-flight meal and he
hated the security checks at foreign airports. The country not long ago had a
multiple murderer and known terrorist fly into the country and had the welcome
mat rolled out for him. But a hardworking solid citizen and CIA special agent
had twenty questions thrown at him, his references verified and had a pat down
that came real close to second base – all while the head of security glowered
at him.

Fucking
fantastic.

What
a way to start the investigation, he thought. Now he was in a taxi cab and
after several attempts of trying to ask the driver if he spoke English was on
his way to Yasenevo to the SVR headquarters. Lucas secured his winter coat more
firmly around his body, the cold climate getting to him even through the layers
of clothes he wore. It wasn’t like Washington weather, he mused, but a deep
chill that cut deep into his bone and refused to leave. He watched as the
driver swerved through the traffic, shouting what Lucas guessed to be a
profanity as his thick, hairy arm rose with a rude gesture to accompany his
remark at a truck driver who cut him off as they drove past Moscow Automobile
Ring Road.

Lucas
looked outside his window, snow drifted down to the road adding to the already
heavy layer. He guessed by midnight there will several inches on the ground and
Moscowians tomorrow will be battling their way through the sludge. He never
understood how people could believe snow to be so beautiful. Maybe it was
because he had been born and raised in Virginia and that not a year went by
that snow did not fall in the winter months. He had seen enough to last him
several lifetimes and had certainly shoveled his fair share.

Suddenly
he was jerked back in his seat as the old relic of a taxi came to a stop. He
glanced back out the window and then back at the driver who stared back at him
with a look of impatience on his face. Lucas pulled out two twenty dollar
American notes and handed them to the driver before grabbing his bag and
exiting the cab. He had barely got the door closed before the taxi went
rocketing into the stream of traffic leaving Lucas choking on the exhaust
fumes.

Once
inside the SVR building, his visitors pass attached to his jacket, his pistol
locked away in a lockbox at reception, he was escorted down a long hallway, up
two flights of stairs and through numerous passageways before they entered a
small conference room. An older gentleman sat on one side of the table, a
seasoned vet, Lucas thought. He could always pick them, something about the way
they held themselves or the arrogance on their faces maybe. He guessed this to
be Director Vladimir Mishkin.

On
the other side of the table sat a woman who he estimated was in her late
twenties, her hair was somewhere between a dark blonde and a light brunette.
Her eyes were grey. They were both wearing suits, hers with a skirt and were
sporting identification badges. They both stood as he entered.

“Agent
Gates?” Director Mishkin asked.

Lucas
moved forward. He wasn’t about to correct the man on the proper use of his
title,
Special Agent
Gates. He nodded curtly. He had just about had
enough of this God forsaken country, was it any wonder it was so far north?
From the moment he got off the plane it had been one thing after another and
had had a gut full. All he wanted to do was get this case closed and go back
home.

“Vladimir
Mishkin?” he asked, knowing full well he would get a rise out of the old
bastard. He was past caring.

He
saw the woman’s eyes widen in surprise. He guessed not many people dared
address him as anything other than Director Mishkin. But he wasn’t most people
and he wasn’t in a pleasant mood. He flashed her one of his grins he knew got
the ladies heart rates going. Vladimir nodded, unruffled and raising Lucas’s
estimate of the man. He had known some that would’ve coughed and spluttered
over the blatant disrespect. “Nice to meet you,” he added.

Time
to behave Gates, he told himself. His country was on thin ice as it was. What
had Fitzgibbon said, be diplomatic. He must remember that. He held out his hand
and took the older man in a tight grasp, before letting go.

“I
hope your flight was not too rough?” Vladimir appeared to be pained but made
the mandatory pleasantries. After all he was Director. He had to set an example
for proper conduct.

“I’ve
had worse,” he admitted truthfully.

“Agent
Gates I’d like you to meet Elena Ivanova,” Mishkin introduced. “She will be
your agency liaison during your stay in Russia. Any questions or complaints are
to be directed through her.”

Elena
came forward. He could smell her flowery perfume as it filled his nostrils. She
was short compared to him, standing several inches shorter than his six foot
and was at the same eye level as Vladimir Mishkin who looked like a Hobbit,
short and hairy. Lucas glanced down at her shoes, no not wearing killer heels
some women chose, knowing full well what they did to their legs as they
suffered through the pain, just suitable ones for a person expected to be on
their feet for hours at a time, a sensible woman. He liked that. Elena Ivanova also
rose in his estimations.

Elena
shook his hand. “How do you do?” she said in perfect English, with only a
slight accent. She had been trained well and he knew from experience with the
CIA’s liaison officers that it would not be the only language she knew. Many
were expected to know at least enough to get by of all the major languages of
the world.

Close
up he could now see her grey eyes were quite light, almost cold looking but the
welcoming smile on her face was at odds to her eyes.

Lucas
smiled back. “A pleasure.”

“Well
Agent Gates I will leave you in Agent Ivanova’s hands,” Mishkin said before
exiting the room.

“Thank
you.”

He
turned his full attention to the beauty in front of him. Elena wasn’t thin by
Hollywood standards back home. No, she had some meat on her, something for a
man to grab hold of. Her light colored hair was pulled back off her face in a
no nonsense chignon. Her cheek bones were prominent, giving her facial
structure an unusual look, one that would guarantee she got more than one
passing glance by the male of the species.  

“Please
follow me Agent Gates,” she said, her accent sending shivers down his spine.

“Please
call me Lucas.”

Elena
nodded. “Very well Lucas. You may address me as Elena.”

“Elena,”
he said, letting her name roll of his tongue, tasting it.

Lucas
followed Elena down some more corridors, his full attention on the sway of her
hips. It wasn’t exaggerated as many women did when they knew a man was behind
them but they still rocked side to side as they accommodated her long fast
strides. He yanked his gaze from her hips and admittedly her ass, to look
inside some of the open office doors as they walked past.

The
little worker bees were hard at work buried under mountains of documents. He
could hear the drone of an overworked agent in the room up ahead. As they
passed by he glanced into the room and saw the agent in charge giving
instructions to a group of about ten men telling them about the mission they
would soon be going on. Lucas knew the sight well as he had been in the same
position as the man many times before, so the language barrier was
non-existent.

He
leaned close to Elena and asked, “What mission are they about to impart on?”