Russian Law is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Cherrie-Anne Forrest.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover art by C.A Forrest. Photo by David Crawshaw.
RUSSIAN LAW
Camille Taylor
Prologue
Six months ago
SVR Headquarters,
Yasenevo, Moscow, Russian Federation
Nikolai Nagregor knew time was running out.
He had to find out how high this conspiracy went.
Who could he trust? Who could he tell?
He knew without question he could rely on Elena to help him, but he didn’t want to put her in that position. He didn’t want to put her in any more jeopardy than she was already in, if he could avoid it. Being his wife was hazardous enough without intentionally placing her in jeopardy.
He could feel cold eyes on him wherever he went, watching him. Waiting for him to screw up and make a mistake, to allow his attention to be diverted just long enough for them to strike. Whoever they were. Nowhere was safe, not even the hallways of the building he had pledged his life to. Not when traitors walked these very same corridors, plotting against the country they were supposed to love and protect to their very last breath.
Nikolai planned to bring every one of them to their knees. To make them pay dearly for their crimes.
But he was also a practical man and had taken precautions should things unexpectedly go to shit. But still he hoped to avoid that outcome at all costs, not just for him and his country but for his beautiful sweet wife.
Nikolai couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Elena by herself, or to leave her with his secret - his very dangerous secret. His unfortunate luck to stumble across the biggest plot in his career. One that reached to God knows how high within his Agency and being the agent he was, the man who wanted to make a difference in the world – to the world - was somewhat appreciative. Now he only had to do something about it, which was easier said than done.
Nikolai adjusted the security pass on his navy blue suit jacket and picked up the file folders he was to work on later tonight after dinner. His job was one that was never really finished, there was always something that needed attending to, more so with his most current case. Nikolai locked his office door and moved down the hallway. The walls were a traditional off-white and the carpeted floors were covered in a bland beige. Sterile was the one thing that came to his mind as he passed through the first of several security check-points. His pass beeped in par as the LED light on the swipe machine turned a fluorescent green.
Nikolai nodded to the guard, easily concealing the gnawing stress and concern battling inside of him. How easily it would be to dump the knowledge inside his head into someone else’s lap. He would certainly live a longer, healthier life if he could, he thought. But the realist inside Nikolai knew that without being able to trust a colleague, even a Director completely he would have to face this burden alone, at least until he knew more.
He shifted the folders in his hands and thought about the coming night. His polished black leather shoes barely made any sounds as he moved in efficient, long strides towards the exit. Nikolai knew Elena would not be pleased when she caught sight of the folders in his hands. It had been a long time since he had come home empty handed and he wished with all his heart tonight could’ve been one of them. The best he could do was to beat Elena home and surprise her with one of his delicious home cooked dinners and draw his hard-working and patient wife a magnificent bath with vanilla scented candles – her favorite.
Elena deserved so much better. She deserved a husband who would be there, body and mind but instead she was stuck with him. Elena knew how important his work was, hers was equally as important so she cut him a fair amount of slack and he was grateful to her. She was one amazing woman and he thanked God every day to be sharing in her life.
He only hoped that he would be there for the rest of it. It was a dangerous game he was playing, one that could have deadly and disastrous consequences. Not only to him but to their country. He often put his life on the line for his job. It was all part and parcel of working for the SVR – Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki - Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service.
Nikolai swiped his access card once more, the security doors automatically sliding open and he walked towards the elevator that would get him to the ground floor. He would soon be home and away from watchful eyes. He looked at his watch, five-fifty. If everything went to plan he would still beat Elena home by an hour, just enough time for a quick shower and to cook his apologetic dinner. Perfect, he thought. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she walked through their apartment door.
Within minutes he was on the street, and an hour later he arrived home to the cozy little apartment he shared with Elena. The feminine décor that she had assigned the room greeted him and he refrained from grimacing. He had allowed her free reign on decorating – a mistake in hindsight - where she could do whatever she wanted to every room in the place except for his study and this was what she had given him.
He had been shocked to say the least when he had first seen what Elena had done but the décor was there to stay and while it wasn’t the sleek, working professional design he had envisioned her giving the apartment, he hadn’t bothered to voice his slight displeasure and now as much as it pained him to see it, everywhere he looked he saw his wife, his lovely Elena and that made it worth every ruble.
Nikolai took off his overcoat and hung it in the small closet by the door. He turned sharply when he sensed another person’s presence. He immediately knew it wasn’t Elena, he couldn’t smell her sweet perfume that generally clung to everything it touched. His right hand immediately went to his pistol resting in the leather holster that was attached to his belt. All agents were required to carry for events such as this. He quickly withdrew the weapon, holding the Glock in his hand steady and ready to fire.
He crept forward into the main living quarters, keeping his breathing regulated, making no sound as he advanced on the intruder. His eyes moved back and forth across the room as he silently moved, navigating around tables and chairs that stood in his way. He had home advantage. He caught sight of the dark figure. He was well hidden and had Nikolai not been a professional, would most likely not have seen him. He crouched down, keeping low to the ground as he crept closer.
“Nikolai is that you?” the intruder said, looking out into the darkness of the apartment. Nikolai stood still; he recognized the voice, had heard it often and smiled gratefully even as he let out a deep breath, relief pouring into him. He hadn’t been expecting his visitor until tomorrow.
Nikolai straightened and returned his weapon to its place on his hip.
“How did you know I was not Elena?”
The man looked towards the sound of Nikolai’s voice. “I can’t smell gardenias,” he replied simply.
Nikolai smiled again, thoughts of Elena once more filling his head. Making him yearn to hold her even just for a moment if that was all he’d be allowed. Ever since he first met her in his office at SVR, as her supervisor, she had smelled deliciously of gardenias - her signature scent. She had been such a wide-eyed innocent back then and he had felt like the big bad wolf about to devour little red riding hood. He had been ruthless in his purs
uit of her.
He cleared his mind of his wife, there would be plenty time for that later when this matter was all settled. Now was the time he could finally let loose what had been bothering him and get some input. The man before him had several years dealing with such problems. He stepped forward.
Yes everything would be alright now.
Between the two of them, they would sort out this mess; find the conspirators before they had a chance to commit their act of terrorism and potentially save hundreds of lives in the process. Nikolai felt his body begin to relax and realized for the first time just how tense he had been. He wasn’t usually one to be so rattled by an impending attack but this one was no ordinary assault. He turned his back and reached into his desk drawer to pull out a bottle of Stolichnaya – one of Russia’s finest Vodka’s – and two small, sturdy glasses.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted truthfully, without worrying about what the admission did to his ego. “This has been weighing heavily on me, gnawing away at me until my stomach is lined with nothing but ulcers.”
His companion raised an eyebrow. “Then you haven’t shared your findings with Elena?”
Nikolai shook his head, his short dark hair unaffected by the movement. “I didn’t want to worry her.”
He poured out two fingers of Vodka into the glasses.
“Yes, although it seems you’ve been doing enough worrying for the both of you. Are you sure she knows nothing? You know how Elena is and how attuned she is to your emotions,” the man said, reasonably.
Nikolai held out the glass to his guest, who shook his head. Nikolai took a deep swallow of his, allowing the liquid to slide down his throat and warm his belly.
“No, she knows nothing. I made sure of it. Besides, in the past few weeks we’ve seen very little of each other. I’ve been working hard just trying to understand what I stumbled on and then there was the time spent trying to track you down.”
The man shrugged. “They like to keep us busy and out of range. So you’re absolutely sure Elena has no idea -”
“I already told you she doesn’t. Why are you so interested -” Nikolai stopped, something in his overworked brain clicked and reviewed the past few sentences. His eyes widened, his movements too slow, so unexpected was this turn of event.
I love you Elena, skittered across Nikolai Nagregor’s brain even as he drew his last breath.
The man standing before him, the man who had called himself a friend, a trusted member of the intelligence community put a bullet right between his eyes, imbedding in his brain. He was so quick, lightning fast that Nikolai hadn’t seen it coming until it was much too late, betrayed by the man he thought was here to help him.
The man moved efficiently about the apartment, looking through the drawers of Nikolai’s desk. Finding nothing of interest to him, he moved on to the rest of the apartment. Frustrated he began throwing things about, no longer caring to keep his presence hidden. He knew the tricks agents like Nikolai Nagregor would use but he wasn’t finding any here. No hidden drawers or hollowed out books. Nikolai had been a cautious man, too bloody cautious in his opinion. He only had one other option.
Elena.
If Nikolai had left anything, Elena would find it and when she did he would know about it and he would silence her just like he had Nikolai. It was time to clean house, too many mistakes had already been made and too many loose lips have been flapping. He took another cursory look about, checking that he had left no clue as to his identity before exiting the same way he had entered.
Barely an hour later, the apartment door opened and Elena stepped in, stopping dead when she saw the chaos in which surrounded her. It was clear even to her that the apartment had been ransacked. Drawers had been upturned and emptied, cushions had been slashed and books thrown from the bookcase and amongst it all was Nikolai, lying in a pool of his blood, dead to the world.
“Nikolai,” his name caught in her throat as she ran to his side. The intelligent part of her knew he was dead, that he would never again speak her name, the hopeful part wished for a miracle, that this was all some sort of sick joke. But of course it wasn’t. Tears blurred her vision as she reached out to him and a heart-wrenching sob came from her lips. She didn’t recognize the sound, the voice that was so full of pain could not be her own. But she knew that it was so, her Nikolai was dead, murdered in their home and by God she was going to find the man that did it.
Chapter 1
Now,
Annandale, Virginia, USA
The cell phone beside the bed chirped incessantly, the caller obviously eager to speak to him. Lucas rolled over, away from the blonde sleeping next to him and snatched up the phone and growled into it.
“What?”
The voice on the other end sounded fully alert, having been up most of the night already. “Gates? Get your ass out of bed. We’ve got a DB.”
His boss, CIA Special Agent in Charge, James Fitzgibbon was never one to waste minutes. Lucas was already getting out of bed, stumbling for his clothes.
“Be right there.”
He hung up without a goodbye. He knew his boss wouldn’t be offended. They both knew the score and were always thinking a mile ahead, never worrying about useless things such as formalities and manners. Marlie sat up, clutching the blanket to her naked breasts, a frown burrowed deep in her forehead. Her eyes narrowed.
“Every God damn night that phone rings,” she complained.
“Yeah the dead body is a real inconvenient for a sleep in,” he said dryly, before looking over at her pouting face. “Sorry honey but it’s my job. You’ll get used it.”
She obviously disagreed with him, shaking her head.
“No I won’t, today when you come home - whenever that may be,” she added sarcastically. “I won’t be here – not that you’d notice anyway.”
Lucas groaned, not one of those mornings he prayed silently, please I’ll be a good boy from now on, just please not one of those talks. I don’t have the time to pacify her and I know I’ll have to when I say something stupid and we both know I will if we have the talk.
“Honey,” he stopped dressing and knelt on the bed beside her. “My job is very important,” he steamrolled ahead when he saw her face grow darker. “Not that you’re not important but I need to do my job.”
His job was important and he did it well, no he did it great. So what if he had more reprimands than anyone else in his unit? He was also the one with the most arrests and case closures than anyone else. He admitted he was a little rough around the edges. He didn’t take shit from no one especially criminals who thought the law didn’t apply to them. He didn’t believe in rights for the convicted or even the assumed guilty and he let his thoughts be known.
Usually loudly.
His boss, James Fitzgibbon had recruited him straight out of training and took him under his wings. Everything he knew he could credit to James even though some days Fitzgibbon refused to admit he even knows Lucas. But he also knows that sometimes to get the job done right, you have to break a few rules, which is probably the only reason Lucas still had a job. Any other Special Agent in Charge would have booted him straight out of Langley.
Marlie shook her head again, crossing her arms under her breasts and scowled at him, showing him her growing displeasure. They had only been going out for a little over five months but the woman had already tried every guilt trick known to man on him, starting with the usual - tears. Not one having the slightest affect on him whatsoever.
“No Lucas I’ve had enough.”
Strangely Lucas didn’t care. He knew that was not an appropriate response when the woman you’ve been sleeping with says she’s had enough. He knew he should be begging her to stay or to be making promises to cut back on work or some such shit men ultimately did to keep a woman in his life. But Lucas just nodded, picked up his clothes and headed to the bathroom. Hopefully she’ll be gone by the time he gets home tonight. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with long goodbyes and dreams th
at once were.
An hour later, several hand gestures and colorful remarks behind him, Lucas arrived at the crime scene in Chevy Chase. The house was the typical American dream complete with the customary white picket fence that immediately made you think of the Cleavers. He knew what he would find inside would be a world away from Ward and June.
He was dressed in a dark brown suit, his blonde hair reaching his collar and he absently thought that it was time for another cut. He pulled out his badge and I.D from his pant pocket, flashing the uniformed police officer on duty a glance at his Smith and Wesson sitting in the gun holster attached to his belt as his jacket was opened.
The officer let him inside and directed him towards the action. Lucas’s eyes found the once human being but now medical waste lying on the floor. The body looked like Swiss cheese and blood reached from one end of the room to the other and splattered all over the wall and seeped into the carpet. He had seen many scenes such as this over the years, now not even the smell got to him.
Lucas moved around what was left of the body and gave a cursory look about the house. The Crime Scene Unit was in full swing, photographing the scene, collecting evidence and dusting for fingerprints. He saw nothing that warranted his involvement and frowned. A plain clothed detective looked up from taking notes and caught sight of Lucas. He walked towards him.
“Special Agent Gates?”
Lucas nodded. “What can the CIA do for you?”
The detective looked at the badge Lucas had attached to his belt beside his gun, approving him before speaking.
“The DB – name of Igor Zimtov-tovski-strov,” he had trouble pronouncing the surname, stumbling over the syllables. “The dudes Russian.”
“So call ICE,” Lucas offered, referring to Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
The detective shook his head. “No, I’ve got the right guy. We found this on his body.”
Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) Page 1
