Assassin on Centauri B (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 7)

by John Bowers

  He kept her keycard as he took the lift down to the fourth floor. He drew his weapon as the lift stopped, checked the corridor, then headed for Orel’s office. The door was closed. He saw a bloodstain underneath it, but that had been there when he left, from one of the guards he’d killed. He knocked on the door and stood to one side.

  “Sasha! Aleksandr! It’s Russo! Open up.”

  It took a few seconds, then the door opened a crack. Sasha, gun in hand, peered out. When he recognized Nick, he opened the door wider, scanned the corridor, then motioned him inside. Aleksandr stood in front of Orel’s desk with his own gun pointed straight at the door. As Nick stepped inside, both men relaxed a little and lowered their weapons.

  “Russo! What is happening?”

  Nick took a deep breath and holstered his .45.

  “Bad news. Kozel is dead.”

  “What!” Sasha looked shocked.

  “What about Diana?” Aleksandr demanded.

  “She’s safe. I left her up in her penthouse, but she saw Kozel’s body and she’s pretty shaken up. I need one of you to stay with her. I don’t want her to be alone.”

  “What happen to Kozel?” Sasha’s eyes bored into him.

  Nick chewed his lip.

  “Kozel was still alive when we found him. He had been hung upside down and skinned alive. He said it was Vasily Patushkin.”

  Sasha’s eyes widened in rage. “You are sure?”

  “That’s what Kozel said.”

  “That fucker! He will pay!”

  Sasha started for the door, but Nick caught his sleeve and turned him around.

  “Yes, Sasha, he will, but not like that. We have to plan this thing, and we need Diana’s input. I need you to go up and stay with her until she gets over her shock.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’m going to try to find out where Vasily is. I think he’s still in the city.”

  Aleksandr stepped away from the desk. “I come with you.”

  “Actually, I need you to watch over Nicola.”

  “Nicola! Why?”

  “Except for Diana and the uncles, the Patushkins have wiped out the entire family. Nicola is part of the family, too, and she’s in danger.”

  The big ox’s eyes softened with concern. “Where she now?”

  “In my apartment. Number 2101. I sent her up there after we found…” He looked around the office at the bodies. “…this. She’s terrified, Aleksandr. Stay with her. Keep her safe. I’ll be back before tonight.”

  The two bruisers stared at him with hostile faces. Clearly they were angry and upset, thirsty for revenge. Just as clearly, they now saw him, Nick Russo, as the man in charge. Apparently it was no secret that Diana was sweet on him.

  They nodded agreement.

  Nick handed Diana’s keycard to Sasha, then gave final instructions.

  “While you’re waiting, I want you both to call in the troops, as many men as you can assemble. Have them wait in the club downstairs until I get back. Can I count on you?”

  Both men nodded. Nick clapped each one on the shoulder.

  “Good. Let’s get to work.”

  ***

  Connie Ventura had never been more frightened in her life. If she had been worried about being discovered and thrown out of the ruined casino by Kozel Petreykin’s men, that possibility had paled in comparison to what happened next.

  The sound of gunfire, faint as it was, had tipped her off that something serious was happening. She’d cowered in the locker room for another five or ten minutes; things quieted down, but she thought she heard distant voices…shouts, curses, maybe a scream or two. Then the sound of the lift, and after that, silence.

  She waited another twenty minutes, heart pounding, sweat beading her hairline in the humid locker room. Realizing she couldn’t stay put forever, she crawled from behind the towel cart, the .25 in hand, and made her way to the door; peering into the next room, she saw nothing, heard nothing. She advanced to the next door and once again looked out, this time into the corridor leading to the casino floor. She saw two men standing guard at the entrance, but didn’t recognize them…

  She did recognize the dead men at their feet, the same pair who had challenged her when she first arrived. Stifling a cry, she backed against the wall and stood there panting in fear. For the first time since she had joined FIA, she cursed her decision to do so. What the hell was she doing here? She was no goddamn heroine!

  But it was what it was. She was here, right now, and shit was going down. She was alone, with no backup. She couldn’t call Nick, and even if she did…

  Well, he was supposed to be on the way, wasn’t he?

  So who were these people? What was the shooting about? Had Nick already arrived? Had these people killed him?

  She risked another glance into the corridor. Both sentries were still on duty outside the building, their attention gazing outward. She might be able to get down the corridor without being seen, but that would do her no good—her car was parked in front, and she would never get past those two guards. She might make it to the roof—she’d seen a parking lot up there—but without her car, it was a dead end.

  She slipped back into the locker room and waited, trembling, trying to think. She had literally no options whatsoever. Oh, she might bluff her way past the guards, use her feminine charms to distract them long enough to shoot them in the head, then make a break for it…but it seemed unlikely. Whoever had gone up the lift—and it had sounded like several people—might come down again at any moment. Her chances of survival if they spotted her seemed slim.

  She would keep the .25 handy for a last-ditch defense, but her best hope was to remain undetected.

  Another twenty minutes crawled by.

  The lift came down.

  She heard voices. Laughter. Celebration. Congratulation.

  The voices grew fainter as they moved away, and a minute or two later she heard turbines spinning up, the whoosh of lifters, and with a cold sense of relief, her heart began to beat again.

  She dared risk another peek. The guards were gone. Moving slowly, carefully, she approached the casino floor again, peered about, and saw no one.

  Except the bodies: one by the bar; three on the floor; two outside the entrance.

  What the hell had happened here?

  And where the hell was Nick?

  Panting, shaking with adrenaline, she slipped on her shoes and raced outside, crawled into her company car, and fired up the turbine. Before she lifted off, she dug out her pocket phone and paged Nick’s text receiver.

  NICK! W-T-H ARE YOU? CALL ME! URGENT!

  CV

  God knew when he would get the message, but at least she had sent it. Now, still terrified, she cursed herself again for what she was about to do—as she lifted off and rose above the casino roof, she could see two hovercars headed back toward Periscope Harbor. She had no idea who they were, but they had committed murder here, and were probably connected to the bombing as well.

  Whoever they were, wherever they went, Nick would want to know.

  She nosed her car around and hit her thrusters.

  ***

  Nick actually had no idea what he was going to do next, but needed time to think and didn’t want the bouncers hanging over his shoulder. Appealing to their chivalrous side—to protect Nicola and Diana—had seemed the best way to accomplish that.

  Now he took the lift back up to the parking garage and crawled into Diana’s car. He sat in the pilot’s seat for a few minutes, his mind racing. He considered his options.

  With four of the Petreykins dead, including Stepan, who was a Council of Five member, his mission was basically accomplished. The Federation ambassador had not been assassinated, so that aspect of his mission was nullified.

  The problem was that, if Nick went home now, Stepan would be replaced and Bratva would still have control of the Council. Worse, leaving now, with the Petreykin family in tatters, would leave Periscope Harbor naked before the Patushkins, wh
o were apparently even more vile than the Petreykins. If Vasily Patushkin took power, Nick’s mission would not only be a failure, but the political situation would be worse than before he arrived.

  Boris Nikolaev was still a problem. Diana had said he only cared about the money, but that meant he would pledge loyalty to whichever Bratva family was in control. Nikolaev could be very useful to Vasily Patushkin unless 1) Vasily was eliminated, or 2) the Petreykins remained in power.

  Sirius was still a factor in the whole thing, but at this point a minor one. If Kozel had been correct that Sam Turner had betrayed him to the Patushkins, the Petreykins would never trust him again if they maintained control of the city.

  Based on the facts at his disposal, Nick reasoned that the only logical course was to ensure that Diana Stepurin succeed in her bid for power. She would have to run things without him, but was wily enough to find allies among her own people. Her biggest challenge would be to survive the Patushkin assault, but he thought he knew a way she could do that.

  Nick mulled things over for a few more minutes, then pulled out his pocket phone and made a call.

  “Ministérstvo Gosudárstvennoj Bezopásnosti. Can I help you?”

  “Boris Nikolaev, please.”

  “Can I tell him who is calling?”

  “Nick Russo.”

  “And what is this regarding?”

  “Just tell him my name. He’ll know.”

  The operator on the other end was silent a moment, then he heard electronic sounds as the call was transferred. He half expected her to come back and give him a runaround, but ten seconds later a strong male voice came on the line.

  “Privet?”

  “Boris!”

  “Russo?”

  “Yes. We need to talk.”

  “I agree. Where are you?” His manner was professional, like a cop.

  “Before I tell you that, why the hell did you send men to arrest me?”

  “I don’t know what you talk about.”

  “Yes you do. They said Polina Stepanova sent them, but they were lying. You did.”

  Nikolaev hesitated before replying.

  “Where are you?”

  “If I tell you that, you have to come alone.”

  “Why? So you can set trap for me?”

  “No trap, just talk. If you insist, I will allow you to bring one police officer with you.”

  “Okay—”

  “Polina Stepanova. If I see anyone else with you, I will open fire. I will also have men for backup, so don’t play games with me. You may think you’re a mean son of a bitch, but you haven’t seen me on a bad day. Do we understand each other?”

  Again the hesitation; Nick suspected he was trying to triangulate the call.

  “Da. I will come. Thirty minutes.”

  “Bring Sergeant Stepanova.”

  “Where?”

  “The parking garage in the Rodina building, twentieth floor.”

  Nick rang off. It wouldn’t take Nikolaev a half hour to get there, and things might get dicey when he arrived. He backed Diana’s car out of its parking slot, turned it around, and parked it again, facing outward. If he had to run, he wanted unobstructed access to the garage opening.

  He drew both pistols and checked them, confirmed his extra clips, then slumped in the pilot’s seat to wait. His blood was running high, but this was not the most dangerous thing he’d ever done. Chances were that Nikolaev would try to double-cross him, just as Nick would do if the situation were reversed. But even if he did, Nick believed he had the upper hand—Nikolaev would want answers, and Nick should at least get a chance to confront him; once Nikolaev understood the options as Nick understood them, there was a good chance that his own self-interest would carry the day.

  At least he hoped that would be the case.

  He could be wrong.

  *

  It only took seventeen minutes. Nick tensed as he saw the hovercar appear outside the garage entrance, brake, and nose into the building. He only saw one car, but had little doubt that two or three others were hanging back, out of sight. His blood pressure amped up a few points as the car’s wheels extended and settled onto the surface, then rolled a few yards to one side and stopped. He waited until the clamshell doors opened and Nikolaev got out of the pilot’s side. He couldn’t see the second person until she walked around the back of the vehicle, and felt a measure of relief.

  Polina.

  Nikolaev didn’t appear to be armed—at least he had nothing in his hands. He scanned the garage looking for Nick, a frown on his face. Nick opened his own door and stepped out, .45 in hand.

  “I’m right here, Boris. Place your weapons on the ground.”

  Nikolaev spotted him and frowned.

  “What weapons? I have nothing.”

  “You’re a cop, Boris. You’re always armed. Do what I say.”

  With a pinch of his lips, Nikolaev reached slowly into his jacket and withdrew a slender automatic, which he carefully laid at his feet.

  “Now your backups.”

  Another grimace. Nikolaev reached back under his jacket and pulled a second gun from his belt. He laid it down as well.

  “Is that all?” Nick nodded to Polina. “Frisk him.”

  Polina, looking rather pale, did as instructed, sliding her hands up and down Nikolaev’s body. She stepped back.

  “He is clean.”

  “Is he wired?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Step forward, both of you.”

  Nikolaev, dressed in an expensive business suit with gleaming shoes, took a few steps toward Nick. His expression remained calm, almost aloof. The stud in his ear flashed as he moved his head.

  “Stop right there.”

  Nick moved toward the pair and stopped six feet away, his .45 pointed at the concrete.

  “Are you okay, Polina?”

  “Da. Thank you for getting me out of there.”

  “No problem.”

  “I am sorry to turn you in. They threaten my daughter.”

  Nick nodded. “Don’t worry about it. They didn’t know the password, so their plan didn’t work.”

  Lines appeared in Nikolaev’s forehead. Apparently he wasn’t aware of the password either. He tried to take command of the situation.

  “What do you want, Russo? Or should I say…Nick Walker?”

  Nick’s eyebrows arched in surprise, then he grinned.

  “Why did you reopen my background check? You had already cleared me.”

  “It was Ivan Federov. You made impression on him. He wanted to know more.”

  “So you found out my real identity.”

  “Da. You are some kind of cop, but I still do not know who sent you.”

  “Who says anybody sent me? I’m on administrative leave.”

  Nikolaev shrugged. “So why are you here?”

  “All you need to know is that I’m the only man alive who can save the Petreykin family. Are you aware of what happened this morning?”

  “I have been busy this morning. What happen?”

  “Orel Petreykin is dead.”

  Nick watched him closely—Nikolaev’s reaction looked genuine. His eyes expanded in surprise, then shock; his jaw dropped an inch.

  “Orel—dead?”

  “Lebed is also dead.”

  Nikolaev’s chest began to heave. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Stepan is dead. Kozel is dead.”

  Nikolaev’s face began to pink. His breathing became more labored.

  “This—this is impossible! Who did this? How did this happen!”

  “I will explain everything, but the first thing you need to understand is that I am not your enemy. Diana is still safe and I’m trying to keep her that way, but I did not need your men coming after me and getting in my way.”

  “Where are they? My men?”

  “Dead.”

  Nikolaev stared at him for ten angry seconds, his mouth working. Finally he found his voice again, hoarse with anger.

/>   “Did you kill them?”

  “No.”

  “Then, who?”

  “Diana.”

  He shook his head.

  “I don’t believe you. Why would she do that?”

  “Because they were corrupt cops.”

  “How can you know this?”

  “How do I know they were corrupt? Because you sent them, and you’re corrupt as fuck.”

  Nick turned to Polina, whose expression had shifted from shock to wonder as the name of each dead Petreykin was rattled off.

  “Cuff him.”

  Polina reached for Nikolaev’s belt and removed his E-cuffs. Nikolaev did not resist as she pulled his arms behind him and attached them.

  “How many cars did he bring with him?” Nick asked her.

  “Two. They are waiting for his call.”

  “Send them home. Tell them everything is under control. Boris is safe, and will remain safe.”

  “They will not believe me.”

  “Then have him do it. In English, so I can understand.” He looked at Nikolaev. “If you say a single word that sounds like a code phrase, I’ll put a bullet in your eye. Do you understand?”

  Nikolaev, still red-faced, nodded. He looked at Polina.

  “Pinch my collar.”

  Polina reached for his collar and activated the voice implant that was standard equipment for BC police. Nikolaev spoke into it.

  “All unit, stand down. Situation in control. Return to office.”

  Nick never saw them, but heard the acceleration of thrusters somewhere to one side of the building. As the sounds died away, he nodded toward the lift.

  “Let’s go somewhere more private. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Chapter 29

  At gunpoint, Nick ordered Boris Nikolaev into the lift. Polina joined them and they rode up one floor to Nick’s apartment. When Nick rang the bell, Aleksandr peered out and then stepped aside for them to enter. He displayed surprise at seeing Nikolaev in cuffs, but didn’t ask any questions.

  Nicola came out of the bedroom, and at sight of Nick rushed forward to throw her arms around him.