Vigilante (The Ryker Returns Thrillers), page 17
‘Hanging off, I think,’ Petrova said, deadpan. ‘Her teeth went right into it. Anyway, the paramedics are all in a panic trying to get him out, the cops join in too. They put their differences aside, realising their mistake, but within a couple of minutes they all have to give up. They run away into the sand just as the whole thing goes up in a huge fireball.’
Petrova motioned the fireball with her hands too. She certainly had a mind for drama. The silence that followed suggested she’d finally finished.
‘Is any of that true?’ Ryker asked.
‘One hundred per cent,’ Petrova responded.
‘Doesn’t even matter,’ Zhirov said. ‘The point of the story still stands.’
‘And that’s what?’ Ryker said. ‘You’re Arizona, and she’s Utah. Two incompetents pissing about rather than getting the job done themselves.’
Zhirov’s death glare showed the comment had riled him.
‘No,’ Petrova said. ‘Me and him are both Arizona, and you’re Utah. Not incompetent. But two natural enemies.’
‘They weren’t natural enemies,’ Ryker said. ‘Just two cops who let bullishness and arrogance get in the way of their duties.’
‘But by fighting, rather than acting, that man died,’ Petrova said. ‘They could have saved him if they’d put their differences aside and worked together.’
‘Fine. So I understand why you’re telling me this. Except in our situation you’re not asking me to save someone. You’re asking me to go into jail in Russia to break out a career criminal so I can assimilate myself in their gang.’
‘But don’t you get it?’ Petrova said, sounding frustrated, as though Ryker’s inability to see her view meant her whole story had been pointless. Which, in a way, Ryker felt it had. ‘You will save people. By getting to Smolov, then Jesper, we’ll be able to prevent more deaths. This is our chance, your chance to save lives. Let’s put our differences aside.’
Ryker thought for a few moments. Then shook his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Your argument, your proposition, still doesn’t cut it with me. I’m only in jail right now because you two set me up.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ Petrova said, further adding to Ryker’s confusion as to who was doing what in the background.
‘I don’t owe you anything,’ he said. ‘When I get out of here, I’ll find Jesper myself.’
‘When you get out of here?’ Zhirov said, a devilish grin on his face. He looked to Petrova.
‘We’re down to the final roll of the dice then,’ Petrova said. ‘I hoped we wouldn’t be.’
The tension in Ryker’s muscles renewed as Petrova reached into the pocket of her suit trousers. Would she really pull a weapon there and then?
No. Only a piece of paper. Though Ryker didn’t relax at all. The mood in the room, the stoic look on Petrova’s face, made him realise he had nothing to feel relief over.
She unfolded the paper and held it out to Ryker. He didn’t move forward to take it.
‘You don’t want to see?’ Petrova said.
‘I’m sure you’ll tell me what it is.’
‘It’s an extradition notice,’ Zhirov said, loving every second now. ‘Signed, sealed, delivered.’
‘You’re leaving Crete today,’ Petrova said. ‘We’re taking you back to Russia.’
‘That’s not possible,’ Ryker said. ‘Do the British co–’
‘They have no say in it,’ Zhirov said. ‘You’re an ex-spy. Your government wants nothing to do with you.’
Was there a way he could get contact with Hitchens? Would Hitchens even know what to do?
‘You’re on your own,’ Zhirov added.
Ryker remained focused on Petrova rather than the taunting Zhirov. If he looked at that man’s face he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control himself. Petrova shrugged.
‘He’s right,’ she said. ‘In a few hours from now you’ll be in Russia. But the choice of what happens to you when you arrive there remains up to you.’
‘Our people have good memories,’ Zhirov said. ‘A lot of people know what you’ve done to us in the past.’
‘I doubt that,’ Ryker said. ‘Most of the people there who knew me at all are dead now.’
Zhirov flinched. For a split second Ryker thought the FSB agent would come for him. No, he obviously thought better of it.
‘Again, my friend is right,’ Petrova said. ‘You, or Carl Logan, more specifically, are still a wanted man in Russia. Espionage, murder. You won’t ever be released. You’ll end up in a Gulag thousands of miles away from anything–’
‘Rotting like all your other political prisoners?’ Ryker finished for her.
Petrova shrugged, calm as anything, as though none of this caused her any issue at all.
‘The choice is yours,’ she said. ‘We’re taking you today. The murder investigation here will move on. It’s done for you here. You can come to prison in Russia as Carl Logan, and you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars. Or come to prison in Russia as James Ryker, and we’ll make sure you get out again.’
‘But I’ll be tied to you. To the FSB,’ Ryker said, shaking his head.
‘Only as long as we need you.’
‘And after that?’
Petrova looked at her watch. ‘Right on time,’ she said.
A moment later the lock behind her released and the door swung open. Not just one officer but three stood in wait there.
‘Transport is here,’ one of them said to Petrova, before eyeballing Ryker.
‘So which is it?’ Petrova asked him. ‘Logan, or Ryker?’
The guards came forward, handcuffs in the grip of the one at the front. Ryker found himself caught in two minds once more. The odds were seriously against him, but wasn’t it worth trying at least? Didn’t he have to?
‘Which is it?’ Petrova said as the guards grasped Ryker’s wrists and slung the cuffs over.
‘I’m James Ryker.’
Petrova smiled. ‘Good choice.’
25
Two days previously
* * *
No news was good news. Perhaps Reva had to take comfort in that age-old adage. The police in Crete had made no progress in the investigation into the dead boy – either publicly or privately. Why hadn’t they simply found some random tourist to take the blame, or a foreign worker who they could later deport quietly, to solve the matter? On the other hand, there’d been no suggestion in the now dwindling press reports of the murder, that the killing was linked to organised crime. Absolutely no mention of Reva or anyone else connected to him, Jesper, Smolov, or their operations. That was good. What wasn’t as good was that the police had also provided him with absolutely no information on the dead boy’s identity, nor that of his now absent friend.
At least the basement was cleared, and Vlad’s remains gone for good.
‘Isn’t it about time you found somewhere else to be?’ Sylvia said.
Reva, sitting on a seat under a parasol, turned to her. Summer dress on, her pink bikini showing through the thin fabric, she sat down on a lounger two away from Reva. He downed the rest of his Coke can.
‘You want rid of me?’ Reva asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you anywhere near me, or my daughter, or my home.’
‘Yet every time I sit out here, you always turn up.’
She rolled her eyes and pulled her sunglasses from her hair and put them on. Perhaps to better hide her poor poker face.
Reva laughed. ‘You can pretend with me, Sylvia, but we both know, if Roman wasn’t around, you wouldn’t say no to me. You’d be in my bed whenever I asked. That’s who you are. You need a man. You need someone to look after you.’
‘Except Roman already isn’t around, is he?’ she said. ‘And you really think I need looking after?’
Reva looked about the place. ‘You’re telling me you worked for this?’
She huffed and sat back on the lounger.
‘My point was, why are you still here?’ she said. ‘I thought you were going to Athens.’
‘You want to come with me? I can show you–’
‘No, Olek, I don’t want to go with you. I don’t want to even look at you. Do you really think this is a game between us? That shows me exactly how dumb you are. In your head you think you’re charming me with your tough guy attitude. In reality everything about you disgusts me.’
He ignored her little jibes. He was more concerned about how she knew of his plans in Athens. Who’d told her? Alexei, most likely. That man really needed to think more carefully about his loyalties.
‘I’m taking lover boy with me,’ Reva said. He hadn’t originally planned to, but the guy was becoming a liability here. He had one last chance now to prove his true worth.
Reva studied Sylvia but she showed no reaction to the statement.
‘When he meets those city girls, he’ll know what he’s been missing.’
‘Olek, if you think that is going to make me jealous, then you really don’t know me at all. Alexei can do what he likes.’
Reva laughed. ‘So cold.’
‘Now please, leave me alone.’
Reva got up from his seat. He walked over to Sylvia. She didn’t move at all. With her sunglasses on he couldn’t see her eyes but he knew she was looking at him. Hadn’t looked away since he’d stood up. The way a rabbit watches a suspected predator as it decides whether or not to make a mad dash for safety.
He stood over her. Looked up her long legs, to her chest. He wanted to touch her. To grab her. Why was he so drawn to her? He hated her, just like she hated him, but...
She shuffled up in her seat and folded her arms, as though trying to cover herself more.
‘What?’ she said to him, sounding less in control now than moments before.
He grew a little taller, felt a tingle in his groin. He thrived on her vulnerability.
Footsteps behind him.
He turned. Groaned inwardly. Who else?
‘Alexei,’ he said.
‘Olek. Everything okay?’
‘Yes, fine. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
He turned and strode toward him.
‘But I was going to stay here–’
‘You’re coming with me,’ Reva said. He wasn’t leaving those two alone.
‘Sure.’
A little glance to his woman before Alexei turned and walked with Reva into the house.
An hour later they were sitting on the terrace of the bar in Heraklion, an ice-cold beer each on the table in front of them.
‘I spoke to one of our people in Athens,’ Alexei said.
‘Who?’
‘No one you know. Just someone who keeps an eye out for us.’
A strange answer. Why would Alexei hold back on him?
‘And?’ he asked.
‘And they reckon there’s some heat in Athens. On Konstantin’s place.’
‘His place? You mean–’
‘The block we own there. Two of the apartments are used as hang-outs.’
‘Heat from who?’
Alexei shrugged. ‘It’s not too clear really. But a duo. From what I heard, sounds like something semi-official. Not police. Not a rival. Most likely intelligence services.’
‘The Greeks wouldn’t bother us,’ Reva said. ‘We pay them too well.’
‘My thought too.’
‘So you think it’s the FSB?’ The Russians was the next best guess.
‘I think we have to be prepared for it. Particularly given what’s been going on here recently.’
It did make some sense, especially given Smolov’s underhanded capture.
‘You don’t think those two boys–’
‘Were working with the FSB?’ Reva said. ‘It has crossed my mind. And if you’re telling me there’s heat in Athens too.’
‘We all need to watch our backs. More than ever.’
Reva’s phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up. Jesper. No pleasantries. Jesper never called for chit-chat.
‘What is it?’ Reva asked.
‘Give me an update,’ Jesper said.
Reva had done so only yesterday, and really nothing had changed since. Still, he went through the list.
‘This isn’t good, Olek. I’m hearing a lot of bad news.’
‘From who?’
‘From everyone.’
Reva paused and thought again about Alexei’s claim of heat in Athens.
‘I’m going to the mainland tomorrow. The first shipments from our new partners arrives–’
‘No,’ Jesper said.
‘No what?’
‘It’s not the right time.’
‘It’s already arranged.’
‘The goods are on the water?’
‘Not on the water, but on the way certainly.’
‘Then it’s not too late to cancel. They’ll find someone else for the goods this time.’
‘That’s not exactly the point–’
‘It’s exactly the point. I want nothing going into Athens. Nothing going into Crete. Not until we figure this out. The risk isn’t worth it.’
Reva said nothing. He looked over at Alexei. The younger man watched him curiously. He was party to only half the conversation but could he tell what Jesper was saying? Was he enjoying this moment?
‘Olek, do you understand me?’ Jesper asked. ‘The business in Athens needs to stop. For now.’
‘And I suppose you want me to give the bad news to our new partners.’
The Tunisians wouldn’t be happy. Would they want blood? Possibly. Certainly they’d want compensation. Money for nothing.
‘It’s your arrangement,’ Jesper said.
Reva clenched his teeth.
‘Finish what you can in Crete today. Tomorrow you come back here, to me. You’re needed.’
Reva continued to stare at Alexei. His mind tumbled with thoughts: the immediate conversation he was about to have with the underling. About how he was heading home. How Alexei would be ‘in charge’ once more. Unfettered access to Sylvia. And what about her? He could imagine the snide look on her face when she found out Reva had been called home. The thought made his blood boil. Was there a way to truly leave his mark here first?
Had Alexei planned this? Gone to Jesper behind Reva’s back with the knowledge he had from Athens, just to get Reva pulled away?
‘Olek, are you still there?’
‘Yes. You want me to come home?’ His voice sounded lame. Alexei somehow grew in stature as he looked on.
‘That’s what I said. I’ll see you soon, old friend.’
The phone call ended.
26
Present
* * *
They initially travelled in a police car to a small port on the outskirts of Heraklion, where Ryker and the two FSB agents were transferred to a small boat which set off across the Med. Four other men were on the boat, all in black uniforms – combat gear with no identification. None of them spoke. Ryker had no clue if they were Greek or Russian or what.
Still in cuffs, Ryker sat back on the bench he’d been plonked on and watched his captors with interest. They travelled north-east, Ryker decided, by the position of the sun – toward Turkey? After about an hour at sea one of the guards shared out bottles of water. Ryker couldn’t take his himself, with his hands tied behind him, so Petrova pushed the bottle to his lips. Ryker only took small sips, most of the liquid dribbling down his chest, such was the difficulty of having someone else feed him water on a bobbing vessel.
He took enough. Both for refreshment, and for the tranquilliser to take effect. He knew within seconds that’s what they’d done. The world before him blurring and fading, Zhirov’s smile growing, Ryker drifted off.
He had no clue how long he was out for. Anywhere from a couple of hours to... anything above that really, if they’d topped up the dosage through a needle while he was out. Whatever the answer, they were still travelling when he awoke. A road vehicle. Ryker was lying on his side. A barely-cushioned bench. The car, or van, travelled on poor quality road, the vehicle bouncing around, Ryker’s body jolting and smacking against the bench and the side of the vehicle. His hands remained cuffed behind him, but he was also in darkness with a cloth sack over his head, hot and stuffy.
‘You’re awake,’ came the voice from in front of him. Ryker tried to pull himself up. His body ached, his neck in particular. He’d obviously been stuck in an awkward position for some time. ‘I could tell you were awake by the way you were breathing.’
Petrova. Sounding as calm and in control as ever.
‘Where are we?’ Ryker asked, the words coming out in a slur.
‘Nearly there now.’
‘Russia.’
‘Yes.’
‘What part?’
‘The nearest city to here is Chita.’
‘Nearest?’
‘A few hours’ drive away. Do you know Chita?’
‘No.’
‘Okay. So we’re currently a few hundred kilometres east of Irkutsk. Chita is further east from here. We’re two or three hundred kilometres north of the border with Mongolia.’
They were in deepest, darkest nowhere.
‘Why the sack?’ Ryker asked.
‘It’s just the way we do things here.’
Ryker said nothing to that, though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious. He’d been stuck in far-flung Russian jails before. Both officially and unofficially. His most horrific experience had been his last, when he’d spent several months in a Gulag in frozen Siberia. Unofficial incarceration, on that occasion. At the hands of the FSB – his current captors. He’d suffered horribly. All manners of psychological torture had been employed to try to ‘break’ him. And he had broken. Those dark memories came right to the fore now. That last time he’d faced certain lifetime imprisonment, with his own people having left him for dead. Eventually he’d managed to orchestrate his own escape, only to find his own people no longer trusted him. His life with the JIA, his relationship with the people there, had never been the same after that. If they hadn’t bothered to save him back then, and he didn’t even work for the JIA anymore, what chance did he have of rescue this time? None. Likely no one would even know where he was.
