Overkill by James Barrington

Author:James Barrington
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780330536615
Publisher: Pan Books

Razdolnoye, Krym (Crimea)

Dmitri Trushenko closed his email client software, initiated the shut-down routine for his laptop computer and leaned back in his chair. The message he had just sent, concealed within a typical piece of junk email and bounced round a succession of servers in three different countries, just told the ragheads that he was in position.

They had no idea where he was, and they didn’t need to. The final phase of Podstava simply required him to be in a secure location, outside Moscow, with access to the Internet. Once the Anton Kirov had arrived at Gibraltar, and the last weapon had been successfully delivered to London, Trushenko would be able to initiate the demonstration he had planned from the start and then issue the ultimatum that he was quite convinced would instantly neuter America.

And then, as predictably as night follows day, Europe would fall. Her armies would be destroyed or simply disarmed, her governments faced with no alternative but to accept whatever demands Moscow should choose to make. As the man who had engineered Podstava, Trushenko would be fêted and acclaimed and, in due course, the mantle of leadership of the Confederation of Independent States might well fall upon his shoulders. If he wanted it, of course, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he did. Because there was an alternative, an alternative that he had been considering more and more seriously for the past few weeks.

If the idiots in the Kremlin failed to seize the opportunity he had presented them or, even worse, decided to denounce what they could legitimately consider his treason, Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey were all within easy reach. He could simply run, and nobody would ever find him. And the more he thought about it, the more attractive this option seemed to be.

Trushenko smiled as he walked towards the kitchen to prepare a light supper. Money would not be a problem. Podstava had been a long-term project, and at the very first meeting with the oily Hassan Abbas, Trushenko had grasped both the scope of the operation and its potential for his personal enrichment. The funds the ragheads had so liberally provided had been used as they had intended, to construct and deliver the weapons to the locations Abbas had specified, but from the start Trushenko had creamed off a healthy commission, and his three Swiss and two Austrian bank accounts – he had never believed in concentrating any kind of asset in a single location – held between them more than enough funds to allow him to live out the rest of his life in considerable comfort.

He had planned the final phase of Podstava with considerable care, and well in advance. The dacha he had rented for ten days – ample time – was large and spacious, situated on the western tip of the Crimea and with inspiring views across the Karkinitskiy Zaliv, the arm of the Black Sea which lies to the south-east of Odessa. It was an ideal place to wait during the last few days while the final weapon was positioned.

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