“I know I was right there with you.”
He felt the chill of the metal on his chest from her handcuffs. “I suppose we better get you out of them.”
“We will, soon. Just concentrate on getting warm, we can’t have you getting hypothermia now can we?”
In the distance he could hear sirens, they were coming closer. The sound of a motor started not too far away.
“No we can’t have that. I hear sirens can you hear them too?”
He felt her head nod.
“I radioed for help while you were in the water, they should be here soon,” she finished her sentence with a yawn. She fought to stay awake. Elena felt she could sleep for a week and probably would once both she and Lucas were safe.
Ten minutes later, they were back on land. Lucas had been taken away in an ambulance for treatment of his gunshot wound and for observation. Elena was sitting in another ambulance watching the emergency personnel move about, helping the injured and clearing debris. One of the local officers had arranged for the dead body of Alexei’s man to be taken to the morgue. The water police were still dredging the river for Alexei Dimitrovich and his second hired man, so far they had not been found.
She had already made a brief statement and was expected to make a full one in the morning after she was rested. She figured she would be making statements for a long time coming.
The medic told her to hold still, dabbling disinfectant at one of her many cuts and grazes.
“Ouch!” she complained. Granted she only had a concussion and minor injuries but in her mind that were just as painful and important as Lucas’s. Well not quite she thought when she remembered the paleness of his skin. The blood gone from his face, the coldness of his body. She only hoped she had warmed him up enough that he wouldn’t have any ill effects. The man had certainly been put through a wringer tonight. She shivered as a gust of wind blew past and pulled the blanket closer. Her wrists were sore and had already begun to bruise. The medic had already disinfected the cuts made by the handcuffs and had even given her a tetanus shot after bandaging her wrists.
Vladimir Mishkin walked towards her, stopping when he was standing over her. She assumed he got some pleasure from being able to finally look down at her.
“Well Agent Ivanova I’m glad to see you alive and in one piece. Also I’d like to tell you, that because of tonight you will not be held for accountable for the last forty-eight hours. That means your file will stay unblemished and intact. But I warn you don’t try this again otherwise I won’t be so forgiving. Understand?”
You’re all heart, she thought but decided not to voice that fact, she had almost died several times over the course of the night, so had Lucas and he thought she was worried about her record or her job at SVR?
She gave him a tired smile, don’t burn your bridges Elena, she told herself silently.
“Perfectly Director Mishkin. Thank you. Also you may want to look into Yuri Volstov. I believe he may have sanctioned the hit today.”
Mishkin nodded curtly to her before turning away preparing to walk off and join his superiors at the bomb sight. He wasn’t really such a bad guy, he just one of those uptight ‘by the book’ types that she had thought she once wanted to be.
“Director Mishkin?”
Vladimir gave a long suffering sigh. “Yes?”
“Do I get hazard pay for this?”
The look on his face was priceless and belonged in one of those MasterCard commercials, she burst out laughing, tears gathered in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She had needed that. He was shaking his head and muttering a curse as he walked away.
“Okay we’re going to take you to hospital now.”
She shook her head.
“You need to be under supervision, you have a concussion and need to be monitored,” the medic continued.
“No its fine really, I’ll have my brother wake me every two hours okay? I just want to go somewhere I feel comfortable and rest up.”
The medic nodded. “Fine but if you feel any dizziness or nausea you come straight down to the hospital.”
She nodded that she understood and got up from the back of the ambulance and watched it drive away. She walked over to a fellow agent and asked for his phone. She quickly dialed Dmitry, who no matter what time of day or night seemed to be wide awake. She was concerned that he streamlined caffeine. But that was a worry for another time. She outlined her night and he told her to check into a hotel and he would see her soon. She did as he told her. Collapsing into the nearest bed only to be awoken by Dmitry two hours later when he arrived at her hotel. He hugged her tight, almost crushing her before asking how Lucas was doing. She burst into tears, her body long past exhaustion finally taking its toll on her. Dmitry held her while she sobbed herself into oblivion.
Epilogue
One week later
Moscow Domodedovo Airport,
Russian Federation
The International departures lounge was bustling full of activity. Elena looked up as Lucas made his way back from the ticket office. His arm was in a sling to restrict movement in his shoulder and she had been told that he would have to have weeks of physical therapy when he got home, the bullet having severed tendons and muscles that would need time to heal.
SVR had done a massive man-hunt, locating the agents among the agency who had sided along with Alexei Dimitrovich against the President. They had turned up over twenty agents involved in selling information out and providing insurance to a number of criminals. Director Mishkin had not been pleased with the turn of events and had vowed to have more vigorous in-house sweeps to weed out the undesirables.
Elena had gone back to her job as if nothing had happened. She was thankful for the mundane paperwork, never again would she take it for granted and planned on driving herself hard enough to forget the amount of times she had almost died, not to mention the two men of her life, Nikolai and Lucas. Her heart could take no more hits. She was barely holding on as it was without going insane.
“So I see you have your souvenir,” she commented, trying to keep their conversation light.
Lucas looked down at the sling and grinned. “From Russia with love right?”
Her heart rolled over. Right, from Russian with Love, my love, Elena thought. So much for trying to protect her heart, she had successfully avoided that subject since the moment she had had met Lucas now it was front and center in her mind and she wanted to weep. Elena gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and said, “Well Special Agent Gates it was a real pleasure working with you.”
Lucas nodded. “Thank you and a pleasure working with you too Agent Ivanova,” he replied, keeping with her formal tone.
After everything they had gone through, this was it, a formal goodbye from the lounge of the airport? Where had he gone wrong? Right, now he remembered it was right after he fell in love with her.
He shook her hand, ignoring the feel of the soft female skin and the sweet flowery smell of her perfume. He would never be rid of that scent. He would forever be haunted by the sweet smell of gardenias.
“So,” he said, feeling like a teenage boy about to ask his first girl out. “You’ve come to see me off?”
“Actually Director Mishkin wanted me to ensure that you got on the plane.”
“Doesn’t want me here anymore huh?”
Elena nodded. “He said and I quote, ‘I’m sure America can’t wait to have him back and we shouldn’t deprive it of him’. So yes he can’t wait to have you gone.”
She swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the large lump in her throat and refrained from telling him she didn’t want him to go.
The public announcer came on and announced that Flight 160 on Rossiya Airlines to Dulles International Airport was now boarding, he regretfully looked over at Elena.
“That’s me.”
She gave a small nod and he saw her eyes mist. Maybe she was sad to see him go after all?
“Hey – what’s this?” he asked as h
e wiped at a tear she couldn’t contain any longer.
“You’re an amazing man Lucas Gates and I wish things were different,” she said, her voice quivering with effort to not break down and sob.
He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Don’t cry Elena, it might not be forever. I can wait for you, when you’re ready just let me know.”
He leaned towards her, giving her time to back away. He could understand her situation. Until six months ago she was happily married, then in a flash the love of her life was gone, murdered. She hadn’t fully dealt with that fact before she had developed feelings for him. And she did have feelings for him of that he was now absolutely sure. She might not love him, not like he did her. But he was a patient man. He could wait forever for her if he had to. She was certainly worth it.
His lips skimmed lightly over hers, tasting her, just a touch then it was gone. He pulled back and looked at her, she blinked a couple times before flinging herself against his body. Her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she kissed him for all she was worth. His strong arms snaked around her waist and held her tight against him. His mouth parted slightly and she was immediately there, her tongue sliding over his - mating with his. It was an exquisite torture and when they finally came up for air, they were both breathing heavily. The entire airport did not exist for them. They were completely alone.
Lucas made himself step back from her before he did something stupid like throw her down and make love to her on the floor of the airport. He bent down and picked up his small travel bag.
He started walking away from her, she stepped forward.
“Goodbye,” she said, her voice husky.
He gave her a grin. “Do svidaniya, moya lyubov,” and with that said he turned away from her before she could reply.
Elena smiled, goodbye my love. Elena watched his retreating back until she could see him no more and was still there when his plane took to the sky, retuning the man that stole her heart back to America.
***
Eighteen Months Later
Annandale, Virginia, USA
Lucas opened the door to the kitchen and entered his house. As soon as he stepped through the opening, he immediately knew he was not alone. His years as a CIA Special Agent making him sense the disturbance in the air. The feeling that something just wasn’t right, not the way he had left it those many hours before. He reached down to the gun holstered on his hip, unsnapped the safety strip and pulled out his weapon.
He kept the nine millimeter luger revolver pointed out, his finger grazing the trigger as he anticipated an attack. He slowly made his way through his house, checking behind doors and in enclosed spaces where shadows hid, searching. He found himself entering the open-area living quarters when a figure stepped out in front of him, his index finger was about to press down hard on the trigger when recognition set in. He let out a deep breath and holstered his Smith and Wesson.
“Jesus Christ Dmitry, I could have damn near shot you!”
Dmitry had the grace to look apologetic. “I’m sorry Lucas, but I need your help.”
“No shit,” he replied.
***
Keeping reading for a sneak preview of the second novel in the series, American Law due out in 2013 in the Kindle Store.
Dmitry Ivanov felt the Rossiya Airline Boeing 767 plane go through turbulence. He gripped the armrest of his chair and tried to relax. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, thinking of anything but the fact that he was 35,000 feet in the air and only in-cased in a light metal coating relying on the engineering of the plane to hold, the engines to remain in working order and a well trained pilot at the controls. His brain worked hard taking in the specs of the plane and brought them together revealing how a plane was able to soar across the open sky.
This was how he handled stress. His mind which never shut off began comparing or breaking down information until he found solace. Dmitry hated to fly and he especially hated turbulence. He could feel the contents of his stomach churn and had he been in a cartoon his face would probably turn green. His friend, the man seated next to him in the cramped Economy section, Ivan Anisimov, chuckled.
Dmitry glared at him, not daring to move much in case the movement caused the tasteless airplane food to return.
“Can it man,” he told Ivan.
Ivan grinned. He knew his friend had never been much of a flyer and always took the moment to point out that fact. Dmitry had known Ivan since they were small boys and had grown up together. Up until the age of sixteen when they each had discovered girls they had been inseparable. Ivan was one of those men who was always out to make the quick buck, having tried every scheme under the sun into getting on the money train. Unfortunately the man had never had any luck and was often short, at least until recently when he and Dmitry had started a business together. Using Dmitry’s computer expertise and Ivan’s fast talking they were doing really well and it was completely legal, a new detail for Ivan.
While their business had been mostly contained in Russia, with a few odd jobs in the Ukraine and Estonia this was the first time that they had been specifically requested to cross the Atlantic Ocean. While the job was set to be interesting and he could play tourist once the job was completed he was seriously second guessing the decision to come now.
Dmitry placed his palm on his stomach and prayed he would not embarrass himself by throwing up. They were currently fifteen hours into their flight, having had to catch a connecting flight in Paris before continuing on to Washington D.C. Only roughly another five hours until they touched down at Dulles International Airport. He hoped the hours went quickly and that he didn’t have any lasting ill effects since they had an eight am meeting in the morning.
It was a big deal for their business, the first international job. He and Ivan were still in the process of building up their business and reputation meant everything to the type of people he wanted to attract so he wanted everything to go smoothly tomorrow. He still had no idea how Ivan had managed to sweet-talk the clients into bringing them over from Russia all expenses paid when a local company could have done the same work they were asking for. But he wasn’t about to argue. The client was looking into expanding their small business and if they played their cards right hopefully they would give the business a glowing recommendation that would let them go far in the industry.
Dmitry closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. He knew it was a long way coming but he attempted the feat anyway. He didn’t usually like to waste valuable time that he could be working on one of his many trademark virus hunters or security programs but the motion of the airplane was not conducive to concentrating and his laptop screen would more than likely make him even sicker.
Four hours and a bit later, he was still wide awake. He had begun reviewing his software in his head after he found that sleep was evading him. Making internal notes of what he would need to fix or update when he got a chance. Ones and zeros rotated about in his head. He never knew where the talent for computers came from. Elena was certainly not technology-minded. He guessed he’d just been born with the gift and used it to his advantage, the elite programming just appearing in his head while he dreamed.
Dmitry felt the landing gears beneath them extend. The fasten seat-belt sign came on and he felt the pilot begin the decent towards the ground. Thank God for that, he thought. Any longer and they would’ve had a crazy person on board. Beside him, Ivan sat up in his seat wiping away the drool that had escaped his mouth as he slept. The man could sleep anywhere, Dmitry thought enviously.
“We there yet?” Ivan asked, sleep still evident in his voice as he spoke. He yawned, and Dmitry heard the man’s jaw crack.
Dmitry shook his head. “Almost.”
“Get any sleep?” Ivan enquired, looking his friend over with a critical eye. Frowning at what he saw. Dmitry wondered fleetingly what he looked like. It couldn’t have been pretty after the eighteen hours of airsickness he had just suffered through.
“No not yet. I’m too wired at the mome
nt. That and along with this ridiculous airsickness, it didn’t exactly let me rest.”
Ivan nodded, clearly understanding through the haze of sleep. He was slowly beginning to wake up. “Well we’ll be at the hotel soon and you can rest there.”
Dmitry felt the thud of the tires against the tarmac and again silently thanked God. He was about to go stir crazy and wondered if he was maybe a bit claustrophobic. It would certainly explain some things. As soon as the seat-belt sign turned off, Dmitry shot up out of his seat like a cannon. He collected his carry-on and was halfway down the aisle before Ivan had even stood.
Another forty-five minutes and he was through customs and immigration. Another twenty and he and Ivan were driving out of Budget car rentals in a black Ford Focus. Ivan took the wheel and turned on the GPS - because men don’t ask for directions. But it was okay for a computer to tell him where to go. Dmitry refrained from commenting as he listened to the male computerized voice telling Ivan to continue east on I-66 toward the centre of D.C and eventually to the Marriot Hotel near Dupont Circle where he and Ivan would be staying. Their route bypassed the White House and if it hadn’t been so late in the evening he would have asked Ivan to make a detour and drive down Pennsylvania Avenue so he could have a look. But instead they continued on, weaving through the late night traffic. He looked out the window at the scenery as they sped on by, the landscape so different from home it was almost alien.
Dmitry had lived in Moscow his entire life. He and Elena’s parent’s had been working class who had done everything they could to further their children’s lives and education. Unfortunately for them they passed away before they could see the success their children had become.
Ivan slowed the car as they came up to a fender bender, merging into the lane beside them when it was clear that the motorists required no help from them. Dmitry leant back in his seat. He was in Washington. He had known he would be for the past few weeks but the reality of actually being in the city was only just hitting him. He had always thought he would visit Elena in D.C but that had yet to come true. He took a deep breath letting the polluted smog filled air into his lungs and for the first time he was happy about it. He had had enough of breathing in the regulated airplane oxygen.
Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) Page 18
