Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) (12 page)

Lucas
pulled Elena closer, almost as if he planned to never let her go. He had wanted
to know what her body felt like and this may be his only chance, even though
their bodies were encased in several layers of clothes and heavy winter coats.
He pressed a light kiss into her hair and wished he had never gone to her
apartment for help. He had brought her into this dangerous situation and had no
idea how to get her out again. This was her country and their rules. There was
no help for them. They were alone.

At
least you’re together.

The
thought popped into his mind and was thankful she was with him no matter the
circumstance. She was the rainbow in the overcast sky, the one good thing to
come out of this entire mess. He hadn’t known her long but knew he could trust
her.

She
sniffled, her hand wiping at her face. “I’m okay now.”

She
pulled back some but still remained in the comfort of his arms.

“You
sure?” he asked, again concern in his voice.

She
nodded. She felt like an idiot. Now was not the time or place for mental
breakdowns. One good thing came of it though, she thought. Having Lucas’s arms
around had felt wonderful. Oddly it had felt right. Almost familiar in a way,
her body had molded to his as if it had always belonged there. It had been a
long time since she had been held. There had been the occasional awkward
shoulder pat but never the bear-like hug Lucas had given her and was still
currently giving her. His body felt muscular and powerful beneath her hands and
against her chest. Strong. Comforting. She never wanted him to let her go.

Had
she imagined him kissing her head?

She
inhaled his scent, the pheromones eradiating from him causing her head to spin
and her body warm. She recognized it as desire. Elena wanted to wrap her arms
around him and hold on forever. She just plain wanted him. Her mind was a riot
of thoughts none helpful at the moment. She looked into his blue eyes and her
heart started pounding, her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t get over
the damage that man caused her senses. She stepped back out of his delicious
arms before she did something stupid. Like kiss him. Or worse.

She
instantly felt cold and alone and fought her weak body into giving up and returning
once more to his embrace. God, why now?

Because
now was certainly not the time or place. They were on the run, chased by her
own government, her own agency. Now was definitely not a good time to be
getting aroused. They had things to do and a traitor to catch.

Lucas
frowned as she put space between them. She looked out on the square as she ran
her hands up and down her arms trying to warm her body.

“So
do you have a plan yet?” she asked, her voice quivering. She turned and faced
him as he moved closer to her. She could feel the heat from his body closing in
around her.

“Besides
keeping from being captured?” he shrugged. “Not really, something along the
lines of finding out what the fuck is going on.”

She
nodded.

“I
don’t like where all this is heading. Michael Ducane is here, he met with Alvin
Pochenchov and now he’s dead. I can’t swallow that coincidence. It all seems so
final.”

She
thought about that. Alvin Pochenchov had a lot of enemies. But if a lone SVR
agent shot him, something was going on beneath the surface. There could only be
one reason for taking a well connected weapons dealer like Pochenchov out of
the picture.

“They’re
tying up loose ends. Whatever Ducane is planning, he already has what he
needs.”

The
question was what did he need and why? What was he going to do with supplies he
had purchased from Pochenchov? She felt Lucas take her hand in his and she
looked up into his eyes. She could see concern and something else there. “I’m
sorry I got you involved in this.”

She
made a dismissing motion with her free hand. “Don’t. I’m glad you did.”

He
gave her a disbelieving look.

“Really,”
she continued. “I know it didn’t seem like it in the beginning but if there is
something wrong deep inside SVR I want to find out what that is. Especially if it
explains why Nikolai is dead. I’m sorry I cried all over your coat.”

He
smiled at her and caressed her cheek with his thumb, “I’m not. You’re only
human Elena. Besides I like being the knight in shining armor.”

“Yes
well you may think you’re a knight but I feel silly and embarrassed.”

He
leaned closer to her, their lips just inches apart. “I’ll make you a deal, we
get through this and I’ll let you be there the next time I make a fool of
myself. It shouldn’t take long. I tend to live with my foot in my mouth.”

At
the word ‘mouth’ her eyes went to his lips, pale from the cold. She swallowed
hard and quickly looked away.

“I’ll
hold you to that,” she said softly.

His
hand tightened around hers and he looked out at the people blissfully ignorant
of what goes on in and around the world. What he would give to be one of the
tourists out in the square, snapping pictures for their holiday album. He had a
thought.

“Well
now that our faces are being broadcasted across Russia, we’ll have to change
our looks.”

Elena
nodded at the same time she shivered. He pulled her closer to him. She went
willingly. “And we have to get out of the cold. It’s supposed to be a record
low today.”

Fantastic,
just what they needed.

He
took off his scarf and beanie and tucked Elena’s silky hair up under the wool
before wrapping the scarf around her neck. She looked somewhat disguised. At
least she wouldn’t be recognized easily.

“Gorgeous,”
he said when he was done and gave her a wink.

“What
about you? You stick out like a sore thumb.”

She
patted down his blonde hair that had stood up when he had removed his beanie.

He
grinned at her, “Yeah well unless you have any ideas?”

She
thought about it for a moment, her face lighting up when an idea came into her
head. “I may have one.”

She
led him out of the alley, mingling in with the tourists leading him towards a
small Orthodox Chapel standing almost hidden to the side. Next to the entrance
was a stall peddling tourist souvenirs. Elena stopped and began searching the
mass of gaudy trinkets and found what she was after – a traditional Russian
grey fur hat and purchased it. She turned to Lucas and placed it on his head,
effectively covering up his blonde hair.

“Now
you won’t be so noticeable.”

“Yeah?
You think I could pass for one of your countrymen?”

She
gave him a long considering look before answering, “If you keep your mouth
shut.”

As
if it was the most natural thing to do. As if they always went everywhere hand
in hand, Elena captured his hand in hers and began walking again. He fell into
step with her. Looking as if they had all the time in the world, Elena acted as
a tour guide as they idly made their way down Red Square, toward the north end
away from St Basil’s.

“St
Basil’s Cathedral, at first was named Trinity Church and later Trinity
Cathedral was originally erected by order of Ivan IV to honor the victory over
the Mongol Tatars in 1555. There are ten churches in total, the last was
erected in 1588 over Vasily the Blessed - Basil’s grave, whom the Cathedral was
later named after,” she told him as they walked.

She
was calmer now, almost serene. He assumed this was her way of dealing –
pretending ignorance of the situation for a time.

She
was proud of her heritage and let it showed as she talked, her eyes alight. And
she had a lot to be proud of, he thought as he took in the amazing sights.

To
the left, she pointed out the Kremlin wall. Behind it he could see the Senate
Buildings and the Senate Tower that had been built into the wall directly
behind Lenin’s tomb. Next to the Senate Tower was St Nicholas Tower. Straight
ahead, where Elena was leading him was the State Historical Museum. The
structure was a large turreted crimson building with intricate paneling. “Built
on orders of Peter the Great,” she told him before pointing out Resurrection
Gate to the right of the museum.

“We’ll
stop in here and warm ourselves,” Elena told him. “Museum patrons barely have
time or inclination to sit down and watch the news bulletins.”

“Really?”

Elena
nodded, “I have a friend who works for a museum. She wouldn’t know if man
landed on Mars unless he was carrying a rocket full of antiques with him.”

Lucas
chuckled as they entered through the entrance, Elena paying the twelve dollar
admission fare in Russian Rubles.

He
immediately felt the heating inside the museum. He shivered as it began to warm
him from head to toe. He and Elena began making a slow tour of the treasures
the museum had to offer, taking their time looking at a wide range of garments,
weaponry and manuscripts dating back to the 12
^th
century.

They
made their way through the museum and up to the second floor where a restaurant
with delightful hot coffee awaited them.

It
was now well past two o’clock in the afternoon, soon it would be dark. The sun
set early in the winter months which was good for them, at least they would be
able to get around much easier under the cover of darkness.

Elena
was dead on her feet. She flopped down in a seat at a table in an obscure
corner, away from the other patrons and out of ear shot from anyone who would
like to listen in. He could see she was exhausted, having been up for over
twenty-four hours including being shot at and running for her life. Her
adrenaline levels had plummeted fast. She was going to crash and soon.

Elena
ordered two coffees and something hot to eat. She was beyond caring what went
in her mouth as long as it filled her now growling and demanding stomach. They
waited until their food arrived and the waitress left before getting back to
discussing their dilemma.

It
would help if they had a place to start. He supposed he should start back with
Nikolai Nagregor since that was where it all seemed to originate - with his
death. He needed to find a way to read the police report in English, see if
there was something the investigators missed. All of which will be difficult to
get a hold of in since both he and Elena were now on every watch list the
country had.

“We
are running around Moscow wanted, hunted and unarmed. We aren’t going to last
long,” Elena said matter-of-factly.

Lucas
nodded, he was already aware of the harsh truth. “Then we will go where even
the SVR have no jurisdiction. Well at least none that will be paid attention
too.”

She
looked puzzled, “And where’s that?”

“The
friendly neighborhood mob,” he replied.

Elena
couldn’t believe her ears. He wanted to
willingly
show up at the Mafiya’s
door. Did he really think he could bully them into letting them stay for
dinner? She looked at him across the table with widened eyes.

“Do
all American’s have a death wish or is it just you?”

Chapter
12

He
listened as
President Sergei Smirnov of the Russian Federation spoke. The microphone before
him sent his voice to the far reaches of the room. He could barely conceal his
hatred of the man, he had shown little promise from the start, but now he was a
complete disappointment. He had not voted for the man in the last election
preferring his rival, Yuri Volstov’s political policy than Smirnov’s. He had
long lost his respect for his President when the man had announced the previous
year his plan to back all of the United States endeavors, that together they
would fight anyone who seeked to do the world harm.

He
couldn’t believe it, the man had no backbone. Following all the others into
pooling Russia’s little resources together in an effort to support the United
States in wars of their own making. Russia was the superior nation. When would
his beloved country finally be recognized as such? Certainly not when a man
like Smirnov was in charge that was for he sure, he thought savagely. The man
was useless, nothing but a mongrel dog waiting to be fed the scrapes from the American
President’s dinner table. Disgusting.

His
body tensed and he tried to control the rage inside of him. His blood boiled
and his hand curled into a fist. They had been the first to into space, beating
the arrogant American’s by a decade and yet all the world bloody remembers are
the names Armstrong, Aldrin and NASA. He took a deep breath, shuddering at the
force of will it took not to go right up to Sergei and rip his God-damned head
off.

It
will all be over soon.

Soon,
he would no longer have to stand here and listen to the shit coming out of the
imposters mouth. Sergei Smirnov would die and he would watch. He nodded to a
fellow agent as they escorted the President down from the podium where he had been
speaking and past him, through the small door that led to the back of the
building where a car was waiting. He spoke into his radio, advising the agents
by the vehicle that the President was on his way to them.