Russian Connection

by Lakes, Lynde

Curt Harrison! So he was the unknown S.O.B. “What are they going to do with her?”

  “Turn her over to Zimsky. He’ll force her to tell where the money is. Do you have it, Dayd?”

  He would gladly trade the cash for Nikki, but if he admitted he had it, Godunov wouldn’t need Nikki anymore and he’d kill her on the spot. “What money?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

  “It doesn’t matter. Godunov would give it up to get you.” Her voice sounded flat. “What about me? Are you coming for me, or not?”

  “Go to Carmen, the head-housekeeper at the hotel. She’ll hide you until I get there.”

  “Be careful, Dayd.” Her voice rose. “Godunov wants you dead. And if anything happens to you…”

  Dayd heard the raw fear in her voice. Maybe she was on the level. ****

  Russians surrounded Nikki, one leading, one trailing, with her sandwiched between Curt and Ziyakbusky. It surprised her when Ziyakbusky suddenly released her and fell behind. Curt yanked on her arm. “Keep moving,” he said.

  In the center of a clearing stood a wooden cabin. Its peeling paint and sagging front porch classified it as one of those abandoned cabins Dayd had talked about. She spotted a redheaded man up on the roof stringing some sort of lines. Not good. They definitely weren’t early Christmas lights.

  A tall, round-faced man with silver hair and a broad smile came out of the cabin and strode toward her. “Ah, at last we meet, Nikki Brown.” He took her hand and kissed it. His touch made her skin crawl. “Ivan Godunov, at your service.”

  So this was Godunov. His glacier-blue eyes raked over her. She held herself rigid to keep from wiping her contaminated hand on her jeans.

  The Russian Mafia boss drew her away from Curt as though leading her to a dance floor at some great ball. Behind her, Nikki heard a pop and Curt cry out. She turned. Curt clutched his bloody chest, then fell in a heap.

  With a face void of any emotion, Peter Ziyakbusky put his revolver back into the holster and walked away into the sparse forest, dragging Curt’s limp body behind him.

  Nikki blinked to hold back the threat of tears and glared up at the mafia leader. “What kind of monsters are you, assassinating your own? Why did Peter have to kill him?”

  “Curt was a reckless, high-stakes gambler. Out-of-control people are dangerous to have around.”

  Godunov tightened his grip on her arm. She couldn’t stop trembling as he hustled her into the cabin.

  Her breath caught. Glenda sat in the center of the room tied to a wooden chair, a cloth across her mouth. Nikki’s heart pounded. Glenda was alive! Thank you, God. She was alive! Although her face was swollen and bruised, her dark eyes glinted with spirit.

  Nikki broke away from Godunov and raced to Glenda. She hugged her tightly, and the tears Nikki had held back now filled her eyes. Her emotions rode a runaway roller coaster, down one second up the next. “Are you okay?” she asked, unable to control the tremor in her voice.

  Glenda nodded, bobbing her limp, stringy dreads that now resembled a worn out mop rather than her usual ultra-neat style. Her face, thinner now, was smudged with dirt and free of her usual classic, understated makeup. Dark circles under her eyes divulged sleepless hours of untold terror.

  “Everything’s going to be all right,” Nikki whispered to her. She yanked the gag from her friend’s mouth and began to untie her. Nikki shivered. Any moment Godunov would stop her. Until he did, she would push this as far as she could. Her goal at the moment was to make Glenda more comfortable.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Glenda said hoarsely. “Now they’ll kill us both.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get us out of this,” Nikki said with forced conviction.

  Godunov laughed. “This woman believes in miracles.” He thrust his foot outward and connected with a wooden chair, sending it careening across the floor toward her. “Sit down, Nikki Brown. You had your moment with your friend, but my generosity ends there.” He turned to one of his men. “Get Zimsky.”

  Nikki heard a ripping noise at the rear of the building, like someone was yanking boards from exterior walls.

  The Mafia boss smiled at Nikki. “Zimsky’s setting a stage, making your rescue look easy. When he finishes, he’ll attend to you. His only rule is to make sure you don’t die during the interrogation. Dead people can’t talk and are useless as bait.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Dayd paced like a caged lion. Zimsky had Nikki. Rage and despair welled in him. A low growl escaped his throat.

  Boris clamped his hand on his shoulder. “What is it, my friend?”

  “They have Nikki.” The words tore at his sanity.

  “Where?”

  Dayd gestured with his head. “Somewhere up there.”

  Boris checked his pistol and cocked his rifle. “Let’s go.”

  Dayd’s heart pounded. His legs burned with the desire to run recklessly after her. “Hold up,” he said. “We have to think this through. Godunov wants us to come. That’s why Margo called. Time is too critical to run blindly. We have to know exactly where we’re going. Let’s look at those maps again.”

  Against his screaming instincts, Dayd squatted and spread the topographical maps over a fallen log. Boris joined him, grim-faced. Together they studied the maps and reviewed the aerial pictures. “It has to be in this remote valley, just below Broken Arrow Ridge.” He matched the map with the pictures of the area. “This has to be the cabin where—”

  The ringing cellular cut off Dayd’s words. It was Nazar. “I’m at the county dumpsite,” he said excitedly. “The site-keeper confirmed the increased traffic on the road leading into the hills.”

  “Anything today?”

  “Affirmative. I spotted a car full of Godunov’s men myself through binoculars. Their car stopped at the end of the road and three of Godunov’s men, a stranger, and a woman left the car and hiked into the rocky hills.” Nazar paused. “The woman was Nikki.”

  Dayd closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake his gut-wrenching anguish. His hunch was right. The cabin below Broken Arrow ridge was the closest to where Godunov’s men had left their car. “Meet me at Broken Arrow Ridge. Come armed. Stay out of sight, and don’t do anything until I get there.”

  Dayd disconnected the line and turned to Boris. “We were right about the location. There are at least four men guarding her.”

  “We need help,” Boris said.

  Dayd agreed. He called Sinclair, and against his inclination to shout get the hell over here, he forced himself to explain the situation and his needs in a clear, calm manner. Once he was sure Sinclair understood, his calm broke. “We need that backup now!” He flipped the cellular closed with excessive force. They have Nikki, replayed over and over in his head. “Let’s go,” he told Boris.

  They set off running. Gone was the cool head he’d always maintained throughout his career. This morning, under the glare of an October sun, he was gripped with fear. Every second Nikki’s chances for survival diminished. He gulped air, struggling to hang onto the trace of calm still remaining. Each step in the rescue had to be precisely calculated. It was crucial to keep in mind that his actions had been instigated by Godunov. “Watch for land mines,” Dayd said, “traps, snipers, anything and everything.”

  ****

  When the redheaded man entered the room, everyone stopped talking and the air turned to ice as though he’d brought a chill of death with him. Nikki felt a shudder ripple through her and Glenda stiffened. Obviously this wasn’t her friend’s first encounter with the man.

  Godunov bowed. “Nikki Brown, meet Egor Zimsky.”

  Nikki stared into the coldest eyes she’d ever seen—foggy gray. The man was tall, lean and fit-looking, and if not for the cruel eyes and grim expression, he might have been considered handsome.

  Zimsky nodded to her, while sliding a metal fingernail file from a leather pouch on his belt. He fingered the tip carefully, emphasizing its sharpness, then began to clean his nails. His eyes never left Nikki’s face.


  The tender skin under her nails prickled. She closed her hands into fists and crossed her arms over her chest, fighting tremors.

  Zimsky, dressed in black, seamless tights, crossed the room to the fireplace and tugged on the rope and pulley that had been dropped from the roof. The fireplace was huge, and a thin man like him could easily maneuver inside. But why would he want to?

  Zimsky turned and returned to Nikki’s side. He paused, then gestured with the glinting nail file toward lights mounted high in two corners. “Turn on the spotlights.” The room brightened and he whispered, “Need a manicure, Nikki Brown?”

  Her throat went dry. She shaded her eyes from the glare.

  “Tell him whatever he wants to know,” Glenda cried out. “He’s a monster.”

  The dread in her friend’s voice was bone-chilling. It was then Nikki noticed Glenda’s hands. All her fingers were bandaged, and blood seeped through. Nikki closed her eyes, horrified at what her friend must’ve endured with these fiends. She scooted her chair close to Glenda and took her in her arms. She stroked her hair. “God, Glenda, I’m so sorry.”

  Zimsky watched with those dead eyes.

  But he wasn’t Nikki’s only worry. She was acutely aware that they were surrounded by armed men. Any of them could shoot Glenda and her like Ziyakbusky had shot Curt. Fortunately, it seemed that wasn’t what Godunov had in mind just yet, and as long as she and Glenda were alive they had a chance. She had to think of what to say.

  Godunov shook his head. “Talk and you can save yourself from Zimsky’s less than gentle nail artistry. Of course, there’s a possibility you don’t know about the money. That would be a setback. But not a total loss. Although I want the money, I want something else more, or should I say someone else.” He smiled. “Without Radlavich in the picture, the U.S. businessmen will be easy prey and our international market will be wide open.”

  Nikki’s head swirled. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  Godunov frowned and gestured to Zimsky. “The liar is yours,” he growled.

  Zimsky spun Nikki’s chair around, separating her from Glenda. He came close, his sour tobacco breath right in her face. He lifted her chin with the tip of his fingernail file, forcing her to look into his cold eyes. “From now on, you speak only to me, understand?”

  Nikki felt the eyes of the other Russians on her, savoring her fear, anticipating the torture that would come if she didn’t do something.

  She squared her shoulders, and tried to control her trembling. “You won’t need that file. Whatever you want to know, just ask. All I want in return is our freedom.”

  “All you want!” Zimsky chuckled. For an instant, he almost looked human. “What makes you think you can bargain with me?”

  He grabbed her hand, and holding it in his strong grip, jabbed the file under her fingernail. Excruciating pain radiated from the finger, up the arm, to her shoulder. Her outcry didn’t sound human. Tears sprung to her eyes. She glared at him through the blur. “Don’t do that again! Or I promise, I’ll die without telling you one damned thing!” She was snared. If she told them, she’d be useless and they’d kill her. If she didn’t tell, she’d still die. Painfully.

  Godunov moved into the circle of light. “She’s plucky enough to try to take what she knows to the grave with her. Give her a chance to talk.”

  Zimsky turned her hand over and drew little circles in her palm with the tip of the file. The cold, stainless steel dug deeper into her skin with each revolution. “Very well, Nikki Brown. Say something spellbinding,” he said with a snakelike hiss.

  Nikki yanked away her throbbing hand and squeezed it, trying to relieve the pain. She glanced at Godunov. “Your men didn’t find the money in the motel room because I hid it from Dayd. Luke would have wanted his widow to have it, don’t you agree?” She lifted her chin and tried to look calculating, like a woman who would do such a thing.

  “Where is it?” Zimsky demanded.

  “Buried on the motel grounds,” she said, fighting the quiver in her voice. “I’ll get it for you after you release Glenda.”

  Zimsky snickered. “We don’t need you. We can dig up the whole place, if necessary.”

  Nikki’s heart sank. She’d played it wrong. All she’d managed to do was to stall for time. Keep talking, she told herself, stalling is good. “Oh, come on. Do you think I’d make it so easy? You could use a backhoe and never find it. Believe this, gentlemen, you need me to show you where it’s hidden.”

  Godunov shook his head. “Who would ever think a nice girl like you would be such a clever liar?”

  His beeper went off. He punched in a number on his cellular and spoke to someone in Russian. He listened a moment, gave some kind of order, then hung up. He faced Zimsky. “No time for any more games. The Lion and the Bear are on their way. Set the trap.”

  Nikki’s heart pounded. The Lion, The Bear. Godunov had to mean Dayd and Boris. Excitement fluttered in her chest. Dayd hadn’t abandoned her. Oh, God. He would walk right into a trap.

  Zimsky turned the two wooden chairs she and Glenda occupied, placing them back-to-back. He tied their hands together, jerking tighter than necessary, forcing the rope to cut painfully into their flesh. Nikki was proud that neither of them cried out, cheating him of the sadistic satisfaction he craved.

  Next to him on the floor was a suitcase filled with tools and electrical tape. Her heart pounded as he opened a nearby attaché case that contained a half-dozen sticks of dynamite already bundled in pairs—more explosives than needed to destroy the cabin. He got out his soldering iron and fused some wires together. Nikki desperately concentrated on what he was doing. She knew a little about bombs from her time in the Air Force.

  Showing no emotion, Zimsky began stringing lines of colored wire around her and Glenda. He worked intently.

  Godunov watched for a few moments, then growled, “You have fifteen minutes.”

  When Zimsky nodded, Godunov and the other Russians left.

  Zimsky began stringing wires everywhere, over doors, windows, across the wooden floor, attaching bundles of dynamite at entry points. He attached a clock-like device and a two-stick bundle of dynamite together and slowly lowered it into a shoebox. He looked first at her, then at Glenda as though trying to make up his mind about something. After a moment, he smiled and placed the box on Nikki’s lap. He met her gaze with those tombstone eyes. Her heart thudded.

  “It’ll be painless,” he said.

  He pulled a roll of colored tape from the suitcase and twisted it over a previously laid wire. When he finished, he went to the fireplace, grabbed onto the rope-pulley gadget, and disappeared inside, leaving them to their fate.

  ****

  Dayd climbed fifty feet up the rocky hillside. His breath burned his lungs. I’m coming, Nikki. I’m coming. Hang on, sweetheart. Boris was about a hundred feet behind. By now, Nazar should be at the halfway mark between the cabin and the county refuse site on the other side of the canyon. Dayd paused and wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his fatigues.

  Would his backup make it in time? He’d asked for an emergency medical team, bomb squad, and a helicopter. He had to risk calling Sinclair again. Dayd crouched behind a clump of bushes. He punched in the number of the detective’s cellular and was met with insistent ringing. He tapped his fingers on the base of his cell phone. Damn. Why didn’t the detective answer?

  Sweat rolled down Dayd’s back. Time was his enemy. Finally the detective said, “Sinclair, here.”

  “Is everything set?” Dayd growled.

  “We’re on our way,” Sinclair said. “You’d better be damned sure about this.”

  “No doubts.” Dayd glanced at his watch. “What’s your ETA?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  Dayd frowned. “Try for fifteen.”

  He repeated the directions to the cabin to be sure Sinclair had it right, then hung up.

  Cooperation between local police and the CIA wasn’t always smooth, but when necessary th
ey worked together effectively, though grudgingly. Dayd turned off all communications. He didn’t need a phone or beeper going off at the wrong time.

  Charging the cabin before the police arrived was a calculated risk. Yet seconds could make a difference. Margo’s frantic call spelled setup. But they had Nikki.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “It seems we’re neck-deep in cow dung,” Glenda said. “Any ideas what to do about it?”

  Nikki glanced at the tangle of wires around her. Her stomach knotted in fear. “Freeze. It might take only the smallest movement to set this off.”

  Glenda laughed a hollow laugh. “Why don’t we just get the big bang over with? I’ll bet I could—”

  “No!” Nikki shouted, stiff with fear. “Don’t even kid about that. Help is coming.”

  “Come on, girlfriend. We don’t lie to each other.”

  Nikki wished she could see Glenda’s face. With back-to-back talking, she had only voice intonations and inflections to go by. Glenda wasn’t normally prone to despair, but after being held by these monsters and suffering whatever torture they’d dished out, she might have changed.

  “I’m not lying,” Nikki said in her most upbeat voice. She had to give Glenda hope and keep her mind off their situation. “Didn’t you hear Godunov? The Lion and The Bear are on their way.”

  “Translate that. You forget I’ve been out of the mainstream for a while.”

  “Dayd calls Boris The Bear.”

  “Dayd?” Glenda asked, still sounding confused.

  Nikki explained about Dayd, leaving out the fact that he’d stolen her heart. And that she didn’t want him to come. Didn’t want him to walk into this trap.

  “So the bogus cop turned out to be from the CIA,” Glenda said. “What else? Judging from the way you say his name, things must’ve gotten complicated between you two.”

  “You could always read me. But we can discuss him when we’re safe. How badly are you hurt?”

  “Injuries are the least of my worries,” Glenda said, sounding evasive. “But I wouldn’t have made it this far without the help of a brave young woman named Margo Bettmore.”