‘I realize you’re new here, but you don’t want to be hanging out with the son of a political traitor.’ He sneered at Feliks.
But Anastasia’s gaze didn’t falter. ‘Thank you, Stas, but I think I can choose my own friends.’
‘Then join us for the party,’ Stas persisted, pointing to a large red and black poster on the canteen wall. PANTHER SOCIAL CLUB. Youth Night This Friday. U18s. Dress to impress. ‘I’ve VIP access. Come as my guest.’
‘I’d love to,’ Anastasia replied with a smile, ‘but Feliks has already asked me.’
Feliks’s mouth dropped open. He looked as stunned as Stas – and Jason – by the news.
‘So, what’s your room like?’ asked Charley, her face a welcome glow on his smartphone’s screen. Connor was four days into the mission and – aside from the official report-ins – this was their first opportunity to talk in private.
‘It’s mad. See for yourself,’ said Connor, switching to the rear-view camera so he could show her the antique mahogany furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the velvet burgundy curtains that draped like royal robes across the huge bay window and the solid gold lampstands that stood ceremonial guard either side of his king-size bed. ‘Even my bathroom has a chandelier!’
‘Wow, it’s like a presidential suite!’ gasped Charley. ‘Your host is certainly treating you like a king. How are you getting along with the Principal?’
‘He’s rude and unfriendly,’ Connor admitted, switching the camera back. ‘To be honest, I think Feliks might have a problem. He seems disconnected from the real world, always on his phone playing games or else totally uncommunicative … I suppose it’s understandable, considering …’
Charley gave him a questioning look.
‘Well, apart from the obvious hardship of his mother’s suicide, Feliks is being bullied at school. Stas and Vadik, the main culprits, are victimizing him because of his father.’
‘Well, his father is ruffling quite a few feathers in Russia,’ conceded Charley. ‘He’s announced plans for another anti-corruption rally in Moscow at the end of the month. So expect things to get heated over the coming weeks.’ Charley’s expression darkened. ‘I’ve also discovered what happened to Feliks’s previous bodyguard.’
Connor sat up on the bed. Despite rereading the operation folder, he’d found no reference to it and had asked Charley to investigate.
‘According to a Russian newspaper report I found online, the bodyguard was shot during an attempted carjacking. Feliks was in the back of the vehicle at the time. The bodyguard managed to drive away but later died of his wounds. The police reported it as a random attack, but Viktor suspected it was premeditated – an attempt to kidnap his son.’
‘So he employed Buddyguard’s services,’ said Connor.
‘Yes.’ Charley nodded. ‘No wonder the instructors were tense over this assignment. But if the colonel didn’t include this in our briefing, what else is he keeping from us? I don’t like it. This mission is too risky, however fat the contract! I’m going to have a word with him.’
‘Good idea,’ said Connor, who didn’t like being kept in the dark either. They needed the full facts to protect Feliks effectively – and keep themselves safe at the same time. ‘Don’t worry, though – we’ll be on guard. Apart from the school bullies, there’s no sign of any other threat.’
‘Not yet anyway,’ said Charley. ‘How are things working out between you and Jason?’
Connor shifted awkwardly against the velvet pillows at his back. ‘OK, I guess.’
Charley gave him a look that said, I know you’re lying.
‘Not brilliant,’ he finally admitted. ‘Jason and I clash constantly.’
‘In what way?’
‘In every way!’ said Connor, only half joking.
‘Come on, surely it isn’t that bad. Remember, you two need to watch each other’s backs on this mission.’
Connor sighed. ‘I know, but he won’t listen to me. Or follow orders. He considers taking point to be beneath him and dozes on the journey to school when he should be alert. On top of that, he’s easily distracted.’
‘By what?’
Connor was thinking of Jason’s roving eye and his attempts to chat up Anastasia. He was clearly on the rebound. But it didn’t feel right telling on his partner. And he didn’t want to make Ling any more upset than she probably was already. Besides, surprisingly, Anastasia seemed more interested in Feliks than Jason.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Connor. ‘What does, though, is that we disagree on how to handle Stas and Vadik. Jason wants to go all out. Give a show of strength. But I think that’s asking for trouble. It’ll probably end in a fist fight or worse. The problem is Feliks encourages this approach.’
‘So how do you think it should be handled?’ asked Charley.
‘Avoidance of the threat.’
Charley chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip. ‘You can’t hide Feliks every day you’re at school.’
‘But we can ignore Stas and his crew. Or simply laugh off the insults. We need diplomacy, not aggression. Otherwise we might get suspended or expelled from the school, then we couldn’t protect Feliks at all.’
Charley nodded. ‘I agree you don’t want an all-out brawl. But Jason’s method has merit.’
Connor blinked in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Russians respect strength,’ Charley went on. ‘Jason’s calculating that Stas and Vadik will back off if you two prove you can stand up for Feliks. So perhaps you need to mix both your approaches?’
‘Jason isn’t one for compromise,’ replied Connor, ‘but I’ll give it some thought.’
After signing off on the video call, Connor stared out of the bay window at the flurries of snow. Charley could be right. Stas and Vadik weren’t the sort of bullies to be ignored. But there would have to be a balance between his negotiating style and Jason’s physical deterrence, otherwise there’d be a full-out war with the two FSB boys.
The ballerina fluttered across the stage, whirling to the ebb and flow of the orchestral strings. Spellbound, the audience watched as her lithe arms swayed in a constant dance, her body bending to the notes and her feet gliding with such grace that she barely seemed to touch the ground.
From his private gilded box in the upper tiers of the Bolshoi Theatre, Roman Gurov had the best view of the star’s performance. But his attention often wandered. Beside him sat a beautiful young woman, half his age, with auburn hair that shimmered like bronze, and dark bewitching eyes that promised sleepless nights. Draped in a long white satin gown, his date proved a far more appealing affair than the ballet.
His assistant Nika wished for a similar distraction herself since she hated ballet. Mid-performance, her phone vibrated in her clutch bag and she was glad of a reason to leave the auditorium. Quietly excusing herself, she stepped through the red velour privacy curtain and out into the carpeted hallway. Apart from two bodyguards stationed by the private box’s entrance, the hallway was deserted. Moving a discreet distance from the two men, the strains of the ballet fading to a muted soundtrack, Nika glanced at the number on her phone’s screen, then answered the call.
‘You’re in Moscow?’ asked Nika, speaking softly. The line was secure, but she didn’t want to risk being overheard.
‘Yes,’ replied the gruff voice on the other end of the line.
‘You have the package we left.’
‘Yes.’
‘When will you fulfil the contract?’
‘Friday night.’
‘You understand the job must look real. Convincing,’ insisted Nika. ‘We want no suspicion raised.’
‘I understand.’
‘But make the message clear.’
‘Crystal clear, you have my word.’
To Nika’s surprise, the assassin ended the call first – possibly to ensure his mobile signal wasn’t traced and his position triangulated. Nika slipped the phone back into her bag and took a moment to reapply some lipstick. She always felt a touch uneasy arranging a hi
t. Not out of any pity for the victim, but because there was an unavoidable element of risk. A danger of blowback and unwelcome connections being made back to her and her boss. But the assassin had a strong track record and she had no reason to doubt the attack on the target close to Malkov would be both surgical and untraceable.
Returning to the private box, Nika slid into the seat behind her boss. Roman now had his hand on his date’s knee, his gold ring gleaming in the low light. On stage the ballerina was twirling like a feather in a storm, the music rising to a crescendo. At its peak, Nika leant forward and whispered in her boss’s ear, ‘The asset is in play.’
‘Good,’ said Roman. ‘What’s the deadline?’
Nika smiled. ‘This time tomorrow Malkov will be in mourning.’
‘We should have got here earlier,’ said Jason as they joined the long queue outside the Panther Social Club on Friday night. Located in a stylish eco-building on the west side of Gorky Park, the new youth club boasted an outdoor skate pool, mini-velodrome and parkour assault course. Sponsored by Panther Sports, it was the hip place for the young and trendy of Moscow to gather, even in winter.
A muffled boom-boom of bass thrummed from within the venue.
‘This is early!’ said Anastasia, who was wrapped in a thick fur coat against the bitter cold. ‘Most Russian parties don’t kick off until gone midnight.’
‘Well, this party had better be worth it,’ Feliks muttered, stamping his feet to keep warm. Night having fallen, the temperature had dropped to a bone-chilling minus ten degrees. Luckily, Connor and Jason’s mission-issued jackets were proving freeze-proof as well as bulletproof.
‘Looks like it’ll be good,’ Connor said, peering through a misted window into the club. He knew his Principal had never planned, or even wanted, to go to the party until Anastasia had sprung the idea on him. But the venue had promise. Inside there was both table football and table tennis, a bowling alley, pool tables, and on a central stage a band was setting up for the night. ‘The club’s kitted out like your rec room, Feliks!’
‘So we needn’t have bothered coming out then?’ he shot back sarcastically.
‘Hey, don’t be such a sourpuss,’ said Anastasia, taking his arm. ‘This’ll be fun.’
‘Yeah, loads of fun,’ Feliks murmured as Stas and Vadik strutted past, up to the front of the queue and walked straight in.
‘Guess they did have VIP passes after all!’ said Jason with a snort. He squinted through the window. ‘It’s only half full in there. What’s holding up the queue?’
Jason shot Connor a look to say, We shouldn’t be exposing our Principal like this!
Connor was in full agreement with Jason for once. They were in a public park on a Friday night where anyone had the right to wander through. Dog-owners, shoppers, tramps, courting couples, muggers, kidnappers, assassins … It was a high-risk location. But Feliks’s father had approved, in fact encouraged, the trip, since he was so delighted that his son had actually been asked out for a social event.
Connor scanned the immediate area, looking for any suspects among the late-night gathering of students. There was no one obviously out of place, but he could only see so far. While a halo of light spilled from the venue’s entrance, and the skate pool and parkour course glowed with neon strips, beyond the club’s terrace area the park was swamped in darkness. It was the perfect cover to spy on a target, launch an attack or conceal a sniper.
As his eyes swept the nearby bushes, Connor spotted the red glow of a cigarette. It flared brightly as its owner inhaled, giving his position away.
That FSB agent has to be on his third cigarette by now, thought Connor. He’d been aware of their tail ever since Timur had dropped them off at the edge of the park, when the familiar Toyota Corolla had pulled up at the kerbside and disgorged a shadowy figure. The agent’s presence was both unsettling yet strangely reassuring in that someone ‘official’ was watching them. Still, Connor had no reason to trust the FSB and kept the agent in his peripheral vision at all times.
‘So, Feliks, you never did tell me who your father is,’ said Anastasia.
Feliks stiffened, eyeing her with distrust. ‘Viktor Malkov,’ he replied, fixing her with a glare that dared her to comment.
Anastasia’s eyes widened. ‘Our Russia! My parents are great supporters of his cause. They too want to stamp out corruption in our country.’
Connor noticed Feliks visibly relax at her words. ‘That’s good to hear,’ he said. ‘So what do your parents do?’
‘Oil exploration.’ She gave a weary shrug. ‘That’s why they’re away so much.’
‘And where are they now?’ asked Connor.
‘In the Arctic somewhere. It’s all very hush-hush, since new oilfields are so scarce.’
‘My father owns an oil company,’ said Feliks casually. ‘That’s where he made a lot of his money, along with banking and computing.’
As they continued to chat in the queue, Feliks’s mood lightened and, to Connor’s surprise, by the time they reached the club’s entrance he seemed almost eager for the party. It was the first time Connor had seen their Principal enjoying someone else’s company. But, if Connor was honest with himself, it would take a blind and deaf man not to enjoy being with Anastasia – a fact not lost on Jason, who couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
So it fell to Connor to maintain a vigilant watch on their surroundings. The FSB agent was on his fifth cigarette and, apart from a couple of kids graffitiing the skate pool, Connor hadn’t spotted any obvious threats. However, he was glad they’d soon be entering the warmth and relative safety of the venue. Since it was a social night organized by the school, the door was manned by a couple of students. One of them Connor recognized from Stas’s gang – Boris – the breeze-block boy who’d heckled Feliks in the canteen. If he was on the door, no wonder Stas and Vadik had walked straight in.
Jason handed over their tickets. Boris narrowed his eyes at Jason but waved him through. He welcomed Anastasia with a lopsided leering grin while acknowledging Connor with a half-hearted nod.
‘Not you,’ said Boris, barring Feliks with a hand.
‘But I’ve got a ticket,’ he protested.
‘You’re still not coming in.’
Jason and Anastasia stopped by the cloakroom, wondering what was holding them up.
‘Why can’t he?’ Connor asked.
Boris crossed his arms in front of his breeze-block chest. ‘Because I say so.’
‘This is a school event,’ Connor argued. ‘Every student has the right to be here.’
Hearing the commotion, Stas and Vadik appeared at the entrance. With wide grins on their faces, they leant against the wall to watch.
‘Give me one good reason Feliks can’t come in,’ Connor demanded.
‘Face control,’ said Boris with a smirk.
Connor frowned in confusion. ‘What?’
‘Face control,’ he repeated, and stabbed a finger at Feliks. ‘I don’t like the look of his face.’
The other students in the queue sniggered. A flush of humiliation coloured Feliks’s cheeks.
‘Well, I don’t like the look of yours either,’ said Jason, striding back and squaring up to Boris. ‘Now let Feliks in before I face-control you … with my fist!’
Boris let out a dismissive snort at the threat – and the other bouncer stepped up as reinforcement.
‘Back down, Jason!’ Connor hissed into his ear. ‘We’re Feliks’s bodyguards, not his enforcers.’
Connor had tried negotiation and failed, but he knew that brute force wouldn’t get them anywhere either.
‘As I said, you three can come in,’ Boris repeated with overt politeness, pointing at Anastasia, Jason and Connor. ‘But he can’t. Now stop blocking the entrance.’
Connor glanced over at Stas, who was delighting in Feliks’s public humiliation. Connor realized this was a set-up by him – to split Feliks from his only friends and belittle him in front of everyone else.
Feliks knew
it too and glared at his classmate. ‘You’ll regret this, Boris,’ he said coldly.
Boris laughed. ‘Not as much as you’ll regret being the son of a traitor.’
Feliks clenched his fists and stormed off. Connor and Jason immediately followed, Anastasia in tow.
As they hurried after him, Connor noticed a red ember fall to the ground and blink out. The FSB agent was on the move too. But, at the same time, Connor caught sight of another cigarette being extinguished in the darkness.
‘The party didn’t look that good anyway,’ said Anastasia kindly, trying and failing to placate Feliks.
Alert as a wild cat, Connor’s eyes darted from tree to bush, path to park, silhouette to shadow. He hunted the darkness for any sign of their two stalkers – the FSB agent and the mystery threat. But the night concealed all movement.
‘Why don’t we go somewhere else?’ suggested Anastasia. ‘The outdoor ice rink at VDNKh will be open.’
Feliks shook his head. ‘Another time. I’ve lost the party mood.’
Anastasia pouted her lips in disappointment.
‘Sorry … if I’ve ruined your night,’ he mumbled.
She put on a smile for him. ‘You didn’t … That idiot did!’ she replied, her smile switching to a scowl at Boris on the door.
‘Don’t worry, he’ll come to regret it.’ Feliks jammed his hands deep into his pockets against the bitter cold. ‘I’ll get Timur to drop you back.’
Connor instructed Jason to call the bodyguard on his phone and have the car waiting for them. They’d obviously not planned to leave so early and Connor didn’t want to hang around in the dark and cold any longer than they had to … especially if they were being followed.
Their boots crunched in the thick snow as the four of them trudged along the unlit path. Digging into his jacket pocket, Connor pulled out his XT tactical torch and switched it on. The beam cut through the darkness like a knife.
Anastasia looked at him with an amused half-smile. ‘You’re prepared,’ she said.
‘Scouts’ motto,’ he replied, directing the beam along the path.
Bodyguard (Bodyguard 5) Page 8
