The Russian's Greed

by Cap Daniels

  Volkov waved a defensive hand. “No, no, of course you’re not a prostitute. I would never suggest such a thing. I’m only asking if you would like to have a part-time job working with Sascha and me during the times when you don’t have an acting job. A little extra spending money is never a bad thing, in my experience.”

  He took the bait, but I cannot jump immediately into his boat. I must put up at least small fight.

  “I will have to consider this offer, but I must first know what you will ask of me and how much is ‘a little extra spending money’?”

  Volkov uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “The money depends on how good you are, and what I will ask of you is that you continue to do exactly what you did inside my vault tonight.”

  Anya wrinkled her forehead. “You want me to match diamonds to others? This is child’s game of ob"yem pamyati.”

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Yes, indeed it is a game of memory, but you’re better at it than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  “I have very good memory, but this thing you ask, it is not acting job. It is merely tedious work inside prison cell with good lighting.”

  That spawned a chuckle from the jeweler. “We’ve not gotten to the acting portion yet. First, you must memorize your lines.”

  Anya turned to Gwynn. “This is not against laws, is it?”

  Gwynn offered her palms. “How should I know? I’m a contract attorney, not a prosecutor.”

  Anya turned back to Volkov. “This is not illegal?”

  Volkov scoffed. “How could it be illegal to memorize stones? You’re just helping me match diamonds for earrings or multi-stone pieces where symmetry is important.”

  “This is all we are doing? Matching stones?”

  Volkov gave Sascha a half smile. The hook was set, but Viktor Volkov believed he was the angler. “Yes, of course. This is all I want. You have a beautiful mind and a perfect memory for diamonds.”

  Anya frowned. “I can do this for you, but is not a performance. Is only remembering.”

  Volkov took her hand in his and gently kissed just behind the first diamond she’d ever worn. “We will get to the performance in time. You saw Veronique on stage this afternoon, and you, my angel, you are going to be twice the actress she could ever dream of becoming.”

  Anya feigned embarrassed humility. “I do not know. She is very beautiful.”

  Volkov snapped his fingers and shot a point toward the former Russian assassin. “And that is exactly why you are perfect for this.”

  Still playing the frightened child, Anya said, “There is payment for me if I do this for you, yes?”

  Volkov couldn’t douse his grin. “How much did you make on your last acting job?”

  Anya bowed her head as if humility hindered her response.

  “Just tell me. There’s no reason to be shy now.”

  “I am not shy,” she said. “It is just that it sounds like I am bragging, and I do not do this.”

  “You’re not bragging, my darling. You’re merely telling the truth. So, let’s have it. How much?”

  One of the world’s deadliest assassins stared at the fibers of the rug between her feet. “I have small role in Canadian television show, and I am paid ten thousand dollars for three episodes, six days in preparation, and seven days in filming.”

  Volkov drummed his fingertips against the pad of his thumb. “That is roughly five thousand dollars per week. I will pay the same five thousand dollars per week, but the workweek is only three days of four hours each day. No one can stare at diamonds longer than that without having each of them begin to look identical.”

  Anya’s eyes became fascinated orbs of disbelief. “This is four hundred dollars every hour. This cannot be true.”

  “Oh, I never tell lies about money. Never.”

  Anya bounded from the chair and threw herself around Volkov. “I am a thousand times, yes. I will do this for you, and when this is done, you will teach to me next job, like Veronique.”

  Volkov reveled in the affection from his beautiful comrade. “I feel you will need no lesson of any kind to outshine her. When would you like to start?”

  Anya kissed both of Viktor’s cheeks and embraced him again. “I have already started. I found seven matching diamonds tonight.”

  As Volkov encouraged her to stand, he allowed his hand the liberty of exploring the curve of Anya’s hip. “That, you did, my dear. That, you did.”

  She gave him the glancing brush without resisting, but only for a moment before she stepped away.

  He rose from his chair and returned to the vault. When he emerged again, he placed a banded stack of one-hundred-dollar bills in Anya’s hands. “This is ten thousand dollars because I trust you to keep your word. I think you and I understand the meaning of the word trust better than most. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Anya offered up a perfect smile and tossed the cash to Sascha. “Trust can never be a river. It must flow in both directions. I will do for you what you ask, and you will pay to me what you promise. You trust I will do this, and I trust you will also keep promise to me.”

  Sascha picked up the stack of bills and tossed it from hand to hand, then he gave Volkov a nod. “See . . . I told you.”

  Viktor sighed. “You did, and you were right.”

  Anya glanced back and forth between the men. “What did he tell you?”

  Viktor Volkov leaned forward and snatched the cash from his partner. “He said you wouldn’t take the money up front, and he was obviously right.”

  Anya stared at the bills as if she were desperate for cash. “How did you know I would not take money, Sascha?”

  “You are a proud Russian woman. I told this to Viktor, but he said you had become an American.”

  Anya smiled. “I am both of these things, so I can now choose best of both worlds. It is true I am Russian at my birth and proud woman when I left Soviet Union, but now I am living here in America and is very good country. I am American when is appropriate and Russian when is necessary.”

  Volkov slammed his hand against the arm of his chair. “If you will not take my money, at least accept my invitation to the ballet tomorrow night. The prima ballerina is the finest dancer in all the world, and you make me think of her every time I see you.”

  Anya narrowed her eyes. “Why would I make you think of a ballerina? I am far too heavy to be a dancer.”

  Volkov’s eyes slid across her body. “You are perfect, inside and out, and I will not have you believing anything less. But it is not how you look that reminds me of the ballerina, although, like you, she is stunning. It is another of your attributes that keeps her dancing into my mind whenever you are near.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Volkov stood and reached for Anya’s hand. She gave it to him, and he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear just as Chase Fulton had done so many times. “Do not worry, my pet. It will all make sense tomorrow night. It is an early performance. I will pick you up at six, and we will again have dinner after this beautiful young ballerina brings tears to your eyes.”

  The actress put on her smile. “I love the ballet, and tomorrow night I will be on the arm of the most handsome man in the Big Apple.”

  “It’s settled then. It is, of course, black tie, and you will need a dress.” Volkov replaced the stack of bills into Anya’s palm. “Tomorrow should be your first day at your new job, but since you have shopping to do, you can start the day after.”

  Anya leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Spasibo. And I will make sure you are the envy of every man in attendance at the ballet. It is too bad we cannot go to the Bolshoi.”

  He ran the back of his hand down the curve of her flawless face. “Perhaps one day we shall.”

  Anya beamed. “Perhaps.”

  The trap had indeed been set, and the bait had been swallowed.

  Sascha and Volkov shared a glance, and the Russian Jeweler cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I am sorry to end our beautiful evening, but, unfortuna
tely, I must. My driver will take you home or anywhere else you’d like to go. Consider him and the car to be yours for the night. Enjoy New York, and I will see you tomorrow at six . . . in your new gown.”

  Gwynn and Anya slid into the back of the car, and the driver closed the door behind them. After taking his place behind the wheel, he threw an arm over the back of the seat. “Where may I take you, ladies?”

  Gwynn turned to Anya with anticipation in her eyes, but the Russian said, “Home, please. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Gwynn’s hope deflated, and she reached for the bar. She made short work of pouring a pair of drinks. The two touched glasses, and Anya said, “We are luckiest girls in Manhattan.”

  The driver held open the door in front of their building on the edge of Times Square. “Good night, ladies. It has been my pleasure.”

  Without looking back, Gwynn and Anya climbed the stairs and glided through the door held open by the gloved attendant.

  Once inside the elevator, Gwynn’s eyes lit up. “You really are an actress, and you deserve an Academy Award for your performance tonight. That was amazing.”

  Anya pressed the button for their floor. “It is easy to give men what they want because they always want the simplest of everything.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Anya opened her hand and held out her palm. “Veronique obviously replaces diamonds, one at a time, with whatever these are.”

  Gwynn stared down at the pair of gleaming stones. “You lifted two of Volkov’s diamonds! You are amazing, but don’t you think they have every stone counted? You’re going to get busted.”

  “I was already busted by your boss in Saint Augustine. That is why I am here, remember?”

  Gwynn turned the lock and opened their apartment door. “No, you’re here because you chose to be. You could’ve run at any moment while we were in Miami, and escaping from Walter Reed Hospital would’ve been a piece of cake. You want to be here. Otherwise, you’d be halfway around the world in some place no one’s ever heard of.”

  The Russian pressed the door closed behind them. “Do you really believe I would choose to be here if I could go back to my life before you and Agent White apprehended me in Saint Augustine?”

  Gwynn grimaced. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just that—”

  “My choices are not to be here or be free.”

  Gwynn shook her head. “No, that’s obvious. But I mean, you kind of like doing this with me. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Anya stepped toward Special Agent Gwynn Davis and let their bodies touch gently. She tilted her head barely perceptibly to the right and slowly continued moving toward her federal government babysitter.

  Gwynn’s mouth grew instantly dry, and her pulse raced. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation as Anya closed both eyes and the distance between them. As the Russian’s breath fell across Gwynn’s skin, she palmed the wall behind her, bracing for the instant Anya’s lips would meet hers.

  Suddenly, the deadbolt in the apartment door slammed into the jamb with a metallic thud, and Gwynn flinched as she threw her eyes open.

  Anya playfully kissed the tip of Gwynn’s nose and laughed. “What is wrong? Did you think I couldn’t resist you, Special Agent Guinevere Davis? Did you believe I would press you against wall and kiss you like long-lost lover? Is this what you thought?”

  Gwynn swallowed hard. “No . . . I . . . I mean . . .”

  Anya pressed her finger to Gwynn’s lips. “Shh. I know what you mean, but you must remember. I am well trained to make anyone believe anything I want. If you believe I choose to be here, this is only because it is what I want you to believe. I am actress. Just ask Viktor Volkov.”

  13

  VASH LICHNYY UBIYTSA

  (YOUR PERSONAL ASSASSIN)

  Gwynn shoved past Anya but turned after a few strides through the foyer. She threw an accusatory index finger toward the Russian. “You told me you’d never do that, and I trusted you.”

  “I told you I would never do what?” Anya demanded.

  Gwynn scowled. “I swore I would never lie to you, and you swore you’d never seduce me. I’m not your enemy!”

  Anya’s gaze fell to the floor as Gwynn stormed away.

  Fifteen minutes later, the teakettle whistled, and Anya balanced two mugs in one hand as she lightly tapped on the door to Gwynn’s bedroom.

  “What?” came the harsh reply.

  “I made for you tea, and I would like to talk with you.”

  Gwynn sat up in bed. “I’ll take the tea, but I’m not in the mood to talk.”

  Anya twisted the doorknob and crossed the floor without a sound.

  Gwynn reached up for the steaming mug, and Anya sat on the edge of the bed. “If you do not wish to talk, this is okay. I will tell to you what I have to say, and then I will leave you alone.”

  Gwynn blew across the steaming tea, ignoring her intruder.

  Unfazed, Anya said, “I’m sorry. I did not mean to be unkind. I was only making point about how it is easy for me to make others believe something that is not true. I know you are not my enemy. You are the only girlfriend I have ever had. I need for you to know one important thing, and this thing is absolute truth.”

  She paused to take a sip, and Gwynn couldn’t hold her silence any longer. “How can I trust you, Anya? How do I know whatever you’re about to tell me is the truth and not just part of your whole ruse to fool everyone around you, including me? Huh? How can I know?”

  Anya set her mug on the nightstand. “You will know it is truth because you can test me, and you will know instantly if I am telling the truth.”

  In spite of her anger, Gwynn listened intently as Anya continued. “I am not doing this of my own will, and you know this is true. But you didn’t have to arrest me and threaten for me to go to prison for rest of my life to get me to do these things for you.”

  Gwynn lowered an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You said you weren’t here by choice.”

  “This is true, but I was given no real choice. Prison or this thing we are doing . . . this was my choice. No one would choose to go to prison, even if it is American prison.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  Anya licked her lips. “If you had come to me with tea and asked me to help you stop Russian mafia, I would have said yes without threat of prison.”

  Gwynn placed her mug beside Anya’s. “Are you telling me you would’ve volunteered for this assignment if we’d asked?”

  She nodded. “This is exactly what I am telling you.”

  Gwynn curled her legs beneath her and leaned toward the Russian. “That’s easy for you to say now, but there’s no way to go back in time and test this claim of yours.”

  Anya took Gwynn’s hand in hers. “Is not necessary to go back in time. To test my words, you only have to free me from Agent White’s threat to send me to prison, and then ask for my help. If I walk away, I have failed test, but if I stay with you to finish job, you will know my words are true.”

  Gwynn stared in wonder at Anya, weighing her words carefully. “You do understand that I don’t have the authority to free you from this agreement with the Justice Department, right?”

  Anya nodded. “Yes, I know this is not something you can do alone, but you can take offer to Special Agent White.”

  Gwynn flattened a wrinkle in the sheets around her legs. “Anya, if I do this, and it gets approved, and then you disappear, my career is over. They will bury me in the basement of the DOJ, and I won’t see the light of day until I retire in thirty years at the same pay grade I am now. That’s if they don’t charge me with collusion for helping you escape.”

  Anya sucked her bottom lip. “I know you do not have reason to trust me, but I believe we are doing something good. I have no loyalty to my former country and especially none for the criminals like Leo in Miami and Viktor Volkov. I am not sure exactly what Volkov is doing yet, but we will know soon. Whatever it is, I think he is criminal an
d should be stopped.”

  Gwynn lifted her mug. “I don’t know, Anya. You just put on a performance about how you could make anyone in your world believe whatever you want. You’re a con artist—maybe the best in the world at it. I can’t tell the difference between sincerity and performance art from you. I will tell you this much, though. There’s no way I’m taking this crazy offer of yours up the chain until we’re finished with this assignment. Volkov is committing fraud to the tune of millions of dollars per year. We may not know exactly how he’s doing it, but there’s no question it’s happening. When this is over and Volkov is behind bars, you and I will have this conversation again, but I’m not making any promises tonight. It’s not happening.”

  Anya stared into the air above Gwynn’s bed. “Okay. Thank you for listening. I will leave you alone now, just as I promised.”

  Gwynn laid a hand on Anya’s knee. “Spasibo for the tea.”

  Anya covered Gwynn’s hand with her own. “You are welcome for tea. Good night.”

  Anya pulled the door closed as she crept back into the hallway. For most of her life, sleep had come easily for the Russian, but the lingering regret of what she’d done to Gwynn left her restless, though that wasn’t the only thought pouring through the assassin’s mind. Having claimed to be willing to continue working with the Department of Justice, even without the threat of prison hanging over her head, a bevy of questions danced in her mind.

  How much truth lay in that off-the-cuff admission? How many of these missions can I survive? When would the DOJ finally run out of Russian mafia kingpins to unleash me on? And most important of all, would Special Agent Guinevere Davis take my offer seriously enough to send it up the chain of command?

  The sun burned through the morning fog before Anya’s eyes enjoyed the solace of sleep, and she dragged herself to the kitchen for morning tea. As the teapot belched its shrill report minutes after nestling over the flame, Anya turned to see every piece of furniture in the living room pushed against the walls. Gwynn sat in the middle of the room, stretching like an Olympic hurdler preparing for a race.

  Anya motioned toward the displaced sofa. “What is all of this?”