Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) (20 page)

Lucas
shrugged. “You’d have to ask them.”

She
couldn’t think of anything she would change about him. But then again she had
never lived with him. The man could be a giant slob leaving discarded socks
about the place and never replacing the toilet roll for all she knew. There
could be a million and one things wrong with him that doesn’t show on the
outside. Which she freely admitted was a very nice package.

“And
before you ask, no I haven’t got any children.”

Elena
blushed. She hadn’t meant to be so intrusive. She never liked delving into
people’s private business because she hated when people did it to her. Time to
change the subject, she thought.

“What
can we expect from Ducane?”

It
was time to get back to the matter at hand. Until SAC James Fitzgibbon got a
hold of Alexei Dimitrovich they were on their own.

“A
large radius explosion most likely, that is what he seems to favor.”

Elena
nodded. “Fantastic. So how many people do you think are involved in this plot?”

“Inside
or outside your government?” he asked.

“Point
taken, I was just wondering if we should be worried about snipers and guns.”

Lucas
looked down at her, something in his eyes she didn’t dare to recognize.

“Whatever
happens today Elena, know that we tried our best.”

But
what if their best wasn’t good enough?

She
hated the fact that they were alone in this. She and Lucas were both a part of
great agencies, they should have had the world at their disposal. Not using
aliases to purchase train tickets and using back doors and favors to get their
warning out. She had a right mind to swap sides when this was all over.

“It’s
unfortunate when you can only trust two people in the entire world,” she said
ruefully.

“I
assume one of them is me?”

She
nodded. “Yes of course.”

Lucas
pulled her in closer to his warm body. “That reminds me. There’s a question
I’ve been meaning to ask since,” he took a moment to think. “Yesterday morning.
God has it only been a couple of days? It’s seems longer, much longer. Anyway I
was going to ask you why you decided to put your trust in me.”

She
thought back to when she had first known she could trust him. It sort of came
to her as a flash. One minute she was still unsure the next she knew he would
protect her with everything he had. He was just that sort of man - a man like
Nikolai.

“Don’t
take this the wrong way but it was because you reminded me of Nikolai.”

Lucas
smiled. “Well then, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She
closed her eyes once more. “Good you should, because it was intended to be that
way.”

Chapter 23

The
bullet-proof car
convey pulled up out the front of the Winter Palace. Alexei Dimitrovich exited
the first car and stood watch as the President exited his car and made his way
into the palace, stopping briefly to wave at the news cameras gathered in
Palace Square to film the event. Sergei Smirnov was a fit man of fifty-something
and was dressed in a form fitting steel gray suit. His brown hair was styled
carefully and his Slavic face was clean shaven.

Sergei
slipped inside the doors of the palace, surrounded by Alexei’s men. Men who
would gladly give their lives should the need arose. Men trained for any
eventuality. The Palace Square was overrun by protestors voicing their objections
about every UN decision since its inception. Alexei’s eyes never stopped
moving, scanning every angle for a sniper. He noted FSB’s own snipers ready to
take a shot with their VKS Sniper Rifle’s. Satisfied there was no imminent
danger needing to be attended to, Alexei followed the President through the
palace gates and then stood by the entrance. The first part of his job was
done, now he had to wait for the American President and have a few quick words
with the Secret Service.

The
drug dogs were out, sniffing the exterior for explosives. Another agent was
carrying a portable metal detector and was diligently searching for hidden
weapons, leaving no place unchecked. The interior of the palace had already
been swept prior to the President arriving and would continuously be done
throughout the meeting. The palace had been closed to tourists for the past
week to accommodate for the UN meeting.

He
watched from inside as the protestors tried to push past the police barriers.
Fucking fantastic, he thought. It might as well been
Cirque du Soleil
with the crowds. It was going to make his job so much harder. He spoke briefly
into his radio. His fellow agents replying that their checkpoints were secure.
So far so good, Alexei thought. He would be happy once this was all over.

Michael
Ducane stopped behind a thick hedge and listened as a guard announced into his
radio that checkpoint four was clear. Michael knew from his employer’s
instructions that this was one of his men and the guard would ensure his safe
delivery to the inside of the structure. So far he had encountered very few
problems and had on the most part found his designated route unguarded. Ducane
knew this was his employer’s doing, directing his men to other sections of the
garden when Michael was due to cross from one check point to another.

Michael
heard the crackle of the radio as checkpoint five declared themselves clear and
stepped out from behind the hedge. The guard surveyed him from head to foot,
most likely checking that the American had got the borrowed uniform on right
and would not be questioned should someone come upon him. He nodded sharply,
Michael obviously having passed inspection. The guard shifted his rifle in his
arms, allowing the long thin barrel to rest over his left arm while the right
hand remained close to the  trigger.

The
guard began walking confidently towards the palace and Michael fell into step
behind him, his olive green duffel bag hooked over one shoulder and resting on
his back. He froze briefly when another guard turned the corner of the building
where he had been until that moment hidden, a large German Shepherd trotting
beside him, his snout to the ground. The dog looked up, locked eyes with Ducane
before continuing his task of sniffing. Michael wondered for what since he
hadn’t been able to detect the explosive residue off Michael’s body or even in
his bag. He didn’t particularly care but had to admit he was curious as to what
had been done to the dogs.

The
two guards didn’t exchange words nor did they nod at each other in
acknowledgement as they walked past each other. They both had jobs to do and
apparently neither felt the need to stop for a chat in the cold. Barely a
minute later the guard and his dog had disappeared out of sight and Michael’s
heartbeat slowly returned to normal. He was not used to infiltrating such heavy
security and feared he would be caught at any time. But he had to have faith in
his employer, Michael thought. He had yet to disappoint and Ducane doubted if
the man would’ve gone to so much trouble for everything to fall to pieces at
the last minute.

With
renewed assurance Michael picked up his speed, listening as the snow scrunched
beneath his polished work boots. Beside him, the guard surveyed the landscape
and the odd squawk of the radio mixed with the sounds of their combined
breathing was the only noise. In the distance, he could just make out the
screams of the protestors coming from the front of the palace.

The
guard stopped at the basement entrance, well hidden that had the guard not been
there, Michael was sure he would’ve missed it and blown the whole plan. A
moment later, the guard revealed a keypad from the side of the building and
promptly entered the six digit code, the LED light turning from red to green.

Michael
stepped forward and opened the heavy steel door before closing it soundly
behind him. He quickly dusted off his boots, ensuring he left no sign that he
had been there and walked along the concrete encasement towards the hidden
opening leading to the escape tunnels beneath the Palace. The blue prints he
had obtained were extremely detailed and helpful. He opened the door, nodding
when it made no noise obviously having been oiled recently. His benefactor had
been here, he thought and was again pleased that his job was running so
smoothly. He had had very few jobs that had been this well orchestrated. His
employer sure had some mad organizational skills, nothing had been left to
chance.

Using
his memory Michael continued on towards the West of the building, moving
through the underground tunnels to St. George’s Hall. He had plenty of time to
plant the charges and be gone by the time the meeting was in full swing. The US
President were set to arrive in twenty minutes and would join the Russian to enter
the hall together just moments before the UN Summit was to begin. It was going
to be one for the history books. It was certainly going to finish with a bang.

Chapter 24

Elena
and Lucas
disembarked
at St Petersburg’s Moskovsky Station and hit the ground running. Darkness had
fallen since they had first boarded the train even though it wasn’t quite four
pm yet. The snow had stopped falling and now only coated the ground, causing
Elena to slip every so often. She was not used to running over the wet sludge
and her shoes didn’t have sufficient grip for such an exercise. They pushed
past the tired and irritable commuters, hearing a few choice phrases Elena
pretended not to hear and made it to the street. She looked about the station
and frowned.

“What
are you thinking?” Lucas asked as she put her hands on her hips.

Elena
looked at him. “I’m thinking that the President’s life is in danger. I’ve been shot
at and chased by my own people. I am currently on the run and will most likely
be fired for insubordination. I am really sick of obeying the law when doing so
has given me nothing. I’ve just about had enough.”

She
reached into her purse pulled out her badge and ran in front of the first car
that was about to drive by, unfortunately that just happened to be a red Smart
car.

“You
have got to be kidding,” Lucas muttered when he saw the motorist come to a
stop.

Elena
ignored him and flashed her badge at the driver who clearly did not like the
interruption.

She
glared at the round man with dark facial hair who resembled a very unhappy
Russian Santa Claus. “SVR I need to borrow your car…move it.”

SVR
– it seemed to be the magic word around here, he thought. The driver scrambled
out of his vehicle as fast as his heavy-set body would allow in the small car
and Elena replaced him behind the wheel of the car and patiently waited for
Lucas to get in the passenger side. His knees dug into his stomach as he sat
down in the tiny space allowed for passengers. Elena waited no longer and took
off down the street weaving in and out of traffic. He watched wide eyed as they
almost got struck a couple times as she cut the other motorists off. Lucas
shook his head. And she thought
his
driving was bad, he thought.

Bloody
women drivers
.

Elena
had the car speeding down Nevskiy Prospekt crossing over the river Fontanka in
no time. She hit the brake hard as they came to the mass crowd of pedestrians. It
reminded her of St Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican on a Sunday. Lucas placed
the palm of his hand on the dashboard in an effort to stop his head from
hitting the inconvenient windshield.

Lucas
looked over at Elena. “So what’s the plan?”

Elena
gnawed at her bottom lip as she thought of what to do next. They were rapidly
running out of time.

“Get
to the summit, get the President’s out of harm’s way and find Michael Ducane.”

Lucas
nodded., “Any idea how we’re going to do that?”

“No,
not one,” she admitted before honking the horn and when that didn’t help gunned
the engine, the crowd parted like the Red Sea to get out of her way. She
pressed down hard on the accelerator and the car zoomed forward, many of the public
literally diving out of the way to avoid being hit. Lucas thought for a second
that she had lost it and was actually going out of her way to attempt to run
the people down but she did make a last ditch effort to swerve and narrowly
avoided two men who took offence to almost being run over.

Maybe
the SVR had it right, Elena thought. It’s easier when you don’t think of the
bodily harm that might be caused. She turned into Palace Square, dodging two uniformed
MVD police officers who were shouting and cursing at them. She navigated
through the protestors and narrowly missed crashing into the hundred and fifty-five
foot tall Alexander Column which stood proudly in the centre of the square.

“Looks
like the rest is on foot,” she stated calmly.

Lucas
bent down to the bag he had dumped in the foot well and unzipped it and removed
the two weapons. He handed the Desert Eagle to Elena.

“Here
in case you need it.”

Elena
nodded and shoved the gun into the hand pocket of her coat as she got out of
the car, Lucas followed suit.