Arctic Gold by Stephen Coonts

Author:Stephen Coonts [Coonts, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Intelligence Officers, Americans, Thrillers, Espionage, Action & Adventure, Kidnapping, Americans - Russia (Federation), Russia (Federation), Spy Stories, Dean; Charlie (Fictitious character)
ISBN: 9780312946951
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2009-02-02T05:00:00+00:00

Deep Black 7 - Arctic Gold

14

Kotenko Dacha

Sochi, Russia

1510 hours, GMT + 3

GRIGOR KOTENKO WATCHED impassively as the man walked into the room, stopped, spread his arms, and stood motionless, waiting. Antonov had been through this many times before, and he knew the routine. Andre, a man- mountain as heavily padded as a Japanese sumo wrestler, emerged from the far corner to check him for wires or hidden weapons. Yuri Antonov had been with the Organizatsiya for fifteen years, but since Victor Mikhaylov sudden and untimely death last week, Kotenko was taking no chances. No

one entered his presence without a thorough search, even after the metal detectors and X- ray scanners downstairs.

It wasn’t Mikhaylov unknown killers Kotenko feared so much, and it certainly wasn’t the police, most of whom belonged to him. The majority of his security efforts were actually directed against other Russian Mafiya groups, the circling sharks, as he thought of them. The events at the waterfront in St. Petersburg last week had both wounded the local arm of Tambov and reflected the toothsome possibility of weakness. In such a starkly competitive environment

as modern Russia, the other gangs could turn on Kotenko organization like sharks in a feeding frenzy, maddened by bloodlust.

Within the shadows of the Russian underworld, the wounded, the weak, the indecisive were shown no mercy.

Mr. Antonov, Kotenko said as Andre straightened up and gave the signal indicating that the visitor was clean. So good to see you again. What is it you have for me?

Something most interesting, Mr. Kotenko. Ah, one of your people took it from me downstairs.

Antonov was a small, nervous individual with a goatee and a receding hairline that gave him a passing resemblance to Vladimir Lenin. He did not, Kotenko knew, have Lenin strength of purpose, or his sheer force of will. Antonov did, however, know how to follow orders.

Yes, yes, Kotenko said. Security, you understand?

Dmitry, one of Kotenko personal assistants, walked in carrying a capacious metal toolbox. Antonov had brought it with him from St. Petersburg, surrendering it to Kotenko trusted people outside for a careful search.

This is the box? Kotenko asked.

Yes, sir. We found it close to where one of the assassins was hiding. We believe he forgot it as he fled the scene.

Carefully Kotenko took the toolbox and began removing its contents. There wasn’t much a length of climbing rope tightly bundled and tied; some devices obviously designed to slip over a person boots or hands with protruding spikes to help him or her climb walls or telephone poles; some cinches, straps, and buckles that likely were rappelling gear; five thirty- round magazines manufactured by Heckler & Koch, loaded with 9mm ammunition. Of more interest was a set of low- light binoculars with a single light- gathering tube, obviously of military manufacture.

And a communications terminal complete with folded satellite antenna, battery, and encryption box.

Have our people in St. Petersburg looked at these? Kotenko asked, examining the binoculars. They might be worth fifteen thousand rubles on the open market. They were certainly much better than anything in the Russian military inventory.

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