The Hunt series Books 1-3: The Hunt series Boxset

by Tim Heath

  Matvey Filipov’s name was less well known in the UK, though it came as a big surprise in Russia. Alex and Anissa devoured the reports, once again becoming fascinated in what was now finally a very public challenge––a very public race for the Presidency.

  The final independent––someone who had a small but loyal following from Far Eastern Russia, enough to get a nomination––had run unsuccessfully before at two previous campaigns. He was not a vastly wealthy man, certainly not compared to his challengers in the race so far.

  As independents––men who were not affiliated with a political party––they were required to step forward by that date in December. Putin was already on the ticket––as incumbent President, in the middle of a possible twelve-year term––it was no real surprise when he’d been the first to put himself forward in September. Within a month, by about the 18th January to be exact, the other parties in Russia would nominate their own challengers. Therefore another three––maybe four names––would be added to the four which were now already on the list. Campaigning started straight away.

  The first round of public debates––the American style debates which were also increasingly popular in Russia, becoming explosive in 2012––were expected to be even more explosive this time around. As always, candidates were timed carefully. They would face off one against the other––there would be no mass debates between the challengers, but lots of individual head-to-heads. Putin himself wouldn’t be involved in these until February. It was for the lesser men––it seemed––to prove themselves against the other challengers before they could be allowed to stand before their President, in front of millions via the live television coverage, and make their case.

  It was always noticeable how the various candidates approached such debates. Some men were argumentative, really going at the character of the other person, accusing them of selling out their beloved Russia to the West. All would have to appear strong––men ready to fight one another at any moment, and indeed, fights often broke out, though never between the Presidential candidates themselves. But the threat needed to be there. Voters needed to see someone who could get tough when they needed to, who could stare down an enemy by the strength of their argument, while also being prepared to silence them at any moment with the power of their fists if needed.

  Anissa watched from home as the announcements were made––to have her two boys running around the lounge, the Christmas tree on the floor ready to be put up that coming weekend and to see the names of Dmitry Kaminski and Matvey Filipov talked about in the open, as Presidential candidates, made it all very surreal. Something she’d been on the inside of for months––something she’d not been able to talk about with anyone at home––was now public knowledge, though how much the public would indeed be told was another matter entirely.

  At least it was all out in the open. At least that much was known. In her pursuit of justice––if that was really what she and Alex were pursuing now––over the previous few years, so much of it had pointed towards this very event.

  The race for the Kremlin.

  Could either of these men––she hadn’t heard of the third independent, though from what the reports were saying, it was clear he wasn’t a genuine threat––really challenge Putin? A President who had served nearly fourteen years already over two periods as President, and someone whom most saw as a shoo-in for another six. Did either Kaminski or Filipov have the ground level support that would then be enough to challenge Putin? Would their joint involvement––therefore potentially splitting the votes of those who might want a change––still mean Putin would stay in power by default? Was not a united, unified opponent the best approach? These were the thoughts of those now discussing the news on a BBC show as Anissa sat there in silence and listened.

  She certainly knew that for some in power––including her own former Deputy Director General––it was precisely what they had hoped. In Kaminski, they felt there was a man who could be the figure of opposition. His own downfall––as well as Matvey Filipov’s nomination––had changed that picture dramatically.

  Anissa thought of her former DDG. Had Putin somehow got to him? What did that say about the man who wanted another six years in office? What would that mean for the UK? She understood the desire to see a change in the political system––though knowing what she knew of Matvey, and the shadows he liked to dwell in, she was now concerned that he was potentially just as bad as Putin.

  Should she take on board what Price had started? Was Kaminski the right man for the job? Should Britain even be having a say in another country’s electoral process? She knew the answer to that one before she’d even formed the question.

  The BBC finished their five-minute special report looking at the front-runners of the 2018 Russian Presidential elections––they seemingly already had their own logo for the event––with the news that the first of the debates was already about to be held in Russia the following week. It was the third of these debates––going out live on Christmas Eve––that most interested her. That would pit Matvey Filipov against Dmitry Kaminski. She would have to find a way of somehow watching that particular contest. Before that, both men would give the third independent candidate a run for his money. She was sure neither would be a fair fight––and so it would prove.

  As the week progressed, the BBC continued their growing focus on the Russian political situation. The British Broadcasting Corporation was well known to have held a particular disdain for Russia and its practices and laws over the last decade, and that picture of a nation of thugs and lawbreakers was what led their lunchtime bulletin, as Anissa sat next to Alex at Vauxhall House.

  “We’re outside a Kaminski stop-off point on his tour around Moscow, and the scenes have been quite disturbing,” the reporter in Russia said to the camera, the newsroom host then warning the audience that some viewers might find the following video offensive, as it cut to something that had been shown earlier.

  “Men who have simply dubbed themselves the Kaminski Enforcers have been roaming the streets all night. At midnight they find their first gay couple,” and the voiceover on the video being shown then went silent, as a mob of at least eight men are seen grabbing and punching two men, the first man knocked to the ground straight away, the other seen running off. The man on the ground was then kicked repeatedly until the footage was pixellated as just too graphic to show, the attackers heard shouting in clear Russian, their faces covered, as subtitles now came across the English screens: When Kaminski is President, your lot will be burnt at the stake! Russia is no place for gays! Russia is our nation! And the chanting repeated itself. It was one of the several videos that had been posted online over the last few days.

  The camera went back live to the venue in Moscow, the reporter with his finger to his ear before speaking again into the camera.

  “Those scenes were recorded last night, and they are not isolated events, either. The Kaminski camp––the man known to hold strict orthodox views in regards to homosexuality––has declined to comment though his office had released a statement which says they do not endorse violence of any kind, against anyone.

  “And Philip, these are not limited to just groups associated to Dmitry Kaminski, are they? There have been pro-Putin, United Russia members seemingly doing similar things as well.”

  “That’s right, Andrew,” the Moscow-based reporter said, the camera back on him after the brief question from the newsroom in London. “Overnight a video was taken down from United Russia’s official VKontakte social media page,” and the video started to play on half the screen as the reporter continued to speak. “In this attack, a group of three people, two men and one woman, and dressed obviously as Muslims––later confirmed to be brothers and sister––were jumped on by a group of four men. All aggressors shouting pro-Putin propaganda,” and a baseball bat appeared then on the video being played. The two Muslim men who were now on the floor were being repeatedly struck across their backs and legs as their sister
pleaded with the attackers to stop. The men eventually did stop, punching the female in the face before moving off camera. “All extremely anti-Muslim. The three victims in this attack––and this is far from an isolated incident–-were recent immigrants from the Caucuses––an area of the former Soviet Union which has for many years been very troubled and unsettled.”

  “And has United Russia made a comment on the action of these supporters?” the studio asked.

  “Yes, as well as taking down the video––something they say was not posted officially by them but was the result of a hack––they have strongly condemned what happened in this video, as well as some other reported situations. They have stated that anyone carrying out such an attack was not a friend of Russia and that the Party would take seriously any allegations of violent behaviour towards any citizen. There have been no arrests made, however, following either attack.”

  “Philip, why all of a sudden are we seeing these types of events on our screens?”

  “Andrew, what we’ve just witnessed isn’t anything new. In fact, following the anti-homosexuality laws of two years ago, as well as the religious laws passed last year, these types of heavy-handed incidents have been on the rise. Clearly, the upcoming elections have focused such efforts––and while both candidates will be distancing themselves from such horrific events as we’ve just witnessed––you have to fear that such things will continue to happen, especially given their leaders outspoken views on these issues.

  “It was Putin’s own party––United Russia––which brought in these two new laws within the last couple of years, views that maybe Kaminski himself shares with his electoral rival?”

  “Dmitry Kaminski––well known in the UK of course for his business side of things, and who famously lost control of his own bank earlier this year, at the cost of hundreds of jobs––whilst not outspoken on the matter, is privately known for his anti-homosexual policy. Four years ago, in a failed lawsuit, a former employee had claimed wrongful dismissal based on the fact he’d announced on social media the week before he was fired that he was gay.”

  “Indeed, interesting times,” the studio said, coming back to London and moving on with the next story. Anissa switched off the computer at that moment.

  “So, what do you think?” Anissa said, turning to Alex.

  “It’s ugly, that’s for sure. And yet, there are still four months until the actual election. Get Gordon to have a look at these videos, though, see if he can make any sense of who these attackers were.”

  “Alex, these things took place in Russia. Besides, the attackers aren't easily identifiable. What do you expect to be able to do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe work out who they are. Assuming there will be more incidents––I think that’s an unfortunate certainty, given that the reporting of such events only gives rise to others doing likewise––it’ll be useful to know if it’s the same group of aggressors each time, or multiple people.”

  “That’s a good thought.”

  It was three days before Kaminski and Filipov were due to go head-to-head in their own debate. Dmitry had done well in the first one, which was before any of the videos had emerged online, and Matvey was due to face the other independent later that day.

  27

  No, no, no, no, no!” Anissa screamed, dropping her phone onto the table, before falling in a heap on the floor. Tears were already pouring down her face as Alex ran in from the corridor to see what the problem was. He’d never seen Anissa in such a state.

  A few minutes before, Anissa had taken a call from the French lawyer.

  It’s Josée, she had said, herself holding back tears, Anissa instantly on edge, the mere mention of the Frenchwoman’s name enough to stop her in her tracks. She’s killed herself, Anissa, she’s hung herself in the cell. I’m so sorry to have to tell you.

  “What is it, Anissa?” Alex said, coming alongside his colleague, as a few other heads poked around the door seemingly searching for the source of all the screaming. It was five minutes before Alex could calm her enough to understand what had happened.

  Half an hour later they were sitting together in the canteen. They’d managed to call back the lawyer––she’d been happy to hear from Anissa again as there was something she needed to share with her––and the lawyer detailed a little more of what had happened.

  Josée had been found the night before. It’d been four hours since her last meal had been brought to her––something she’d clearly not touched––when she was found hanging from a sheet tied to a metal girder in the ceiling. She had left a note––Anissa asked for a copy of it––which talked all about her reasons for ending her life, her misery, her sadness. She’d confessed to the crime, and more––she’d implicated a Russian in it all.

  Anissa had quizzed her as to who had been implicated by Josée, and it took a while for the lawyer to mutter the name: Kaminski. Dmitry Kaminski, the man standing for President.

  The fax came across while they were still in the canteen, Gordon himself bringing it to them. He had passable French, though they would pass it to an expert to get it fully translated.

  “What does it say?” Anissa said, feeling as responsible for it all as much as anyone. If the note implied it was Anissa’s fault––she already felt the blame for it all anyway––it would be too much. Her own guilt was more than enough to deal with, let alone if Josée, in her last moments, had blamed Anissa for her desperate situation before hanging herself. It would be more than she could cope with, Anissa knew that already.

  “She says she can’t go on anymore. She can’t live with herself, not with what she has done, not with what she knows. She apologises for taking the coward’s exit,” Gordon said––pointing out it was a peculiar use of the phrase––before continuing to roughly translate, “but she couldn’t live with the shame anymore. She says it was Dmitry Kaminski who got her into the event, that he hired her to represent him and that he knew her personally and had met with her before her arrival in Russia. She states he said he would protect her, but he hadn’t. She was now in prison, with no obvious end to things, and Dmitry––a man she’d loved far more than she had told him––was now running for President as if she never existed. As if all they’d shared together now counted for nothing.”

  “That’s it?” Anissa said, no mention of her own name in the note, no blame being obviously dished out her way unless Gordon had skipped that section or his translation skills had somehow missed it. Though how hard would it be to misunderstand: I blame Anissa for this––she made me testify, she made me come to St Petersburg. And now look at everything. It’s because of that stupid bitch that I’ve killed myself. She did this to me.

  “That’s it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Anissa, she doesn’t blame you,” Gordon said, understanding exactly why Anissa wanted to make sure. “I’ll pass it to the experts, and you can read the transcript yourself.”

  She breathed out audibly. Inside something heavy had shifted––not a lot, but there was movement. Maybe Josée wasn’t blaming her.

  “You okay?” Alex asked, now just the two of them again, as Gordon left them, no doubt on his way to get the note expertly worked on.

  “Yes, I will be. I still can’t help but feel guilty.”

  “She doesn’t blame you, so maybe you shouldn’t either. Besides, she’s directly implicated Kaminski for her being in St Petersburg in the first place. That’s what you wanted, that’s why you went to trial.”

  “This isn’t how I wanted it to come about, though,” she said, defensively, but softened as she looked Alex in the face. He wasn’t the enemy, he was only trying to help. “It wasn’t meant to end like this.”

  “I know, Anissa, I know. It’s a crappy situation, but she’s just handed us a lifeline.”

  “A lifeline?” Maybe it was the wrong choice of phrase, considering Josée was now dead. “Some lifeline for Josée.”

  Gordon handed them the English language version ju
st before two––an hour after a British tabloid had published an article reporting the same on their website. The website promised to lead with the full exclusive story the following day, implicating British-based Kaminski in the murder of a man in Russia––the unnamed janitor in their online report––as well as some twisted love affair with a French personal trainer, before she recently committed suicide. It was precisely the type of sleazy story that that particular tabloid loved to print. How the hell they got the story, Anissa had yet to find out.

  The note––part of the original, handwritten letter in French and pictured in colour in a prominent place on the website––was the same one the British had been faxed, though the English translation differed just a tiny bit in style. That ruled out the MI6 translation source as being the leak, at least.

  28

  It was the morning of the third round of debates––the one Anissa was most looking forward to watching––between Kaminski and Filipov.

  All the previous day and that morning the papers across the UK were running with the story that had broken concerning Kaminski. With little else happening around the world, it seemed to spend longer on the front pages than might have otherwise been merited.

  All sorts of conspiracy theories were being made up––the Kaminski camp had vehemently denied any connection––though no one had faced a camera and said that. That would inevitably happen that evening at the debate, which was already estimated to have the highest viewing figures yet, and that was before this story had even broken. The timing was terrible for the Kaminski camp, who had been running a robust underground campaign themselves for a few years, though they had seen things start to get out of hand for them increasingly over the last twelve months.