The Russian Assassin by Eric Meyer

Author:Eric Meyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swordworks Books

* * *

The knock came on the door, and Cris called out who was there. When he heard the voice of the cop he’d spoken to, he opened the door. Two men entered the room, and he assumed the older was Doug Mason. He was a typical older cop, crumpled suit, crumpled hair, crumpled face, wearing a cynical expression that told of a man who’d seen just about every bad thing the city could throw at him. Tall, around six-two, and a definite paunch marred his otherwise lean frame hidden beneath the baggy worsted.

In contrast, his partner was shorter, and his expensive designer pin stripe was well pressed and looked new. White shirt, frat tie, and two-hundred-dollar haircut, he looked lean and mean; a man who was going places.

Mason did the introductions as they shook hands. I’m Detective Mason, this is Detective Larry Cullum.”

He waved in the direction of Maria. “This is Miss Tereshkova, from Russia. She’s the target.”

He explained what she’d told him, and then gave a quick rundown of the events at the Newport Plaza. The cops waited for him to finish and then Cullum said, “How did you escape?”

“Luck. The car was outside, and we broke a few speeding laws getting away.”

“Uh, huh. And you say this man is coming to kill you, Miss Tereshkova?”

“Yes.”

Cullum sat on the bed and wrote up extensive notes. It was almost an hour before they pronounced themselves satisfied. Both cops got to their feet. “We’ll take over now, and I’d advise you not to leave the hotel until this is over.”

“Impossible,” Maria snapped. “I have to give a speech this evening at City Hall. I cannot cancel.”

“You’d be taking a huge risk, Ma’am,” Mason informed her. “Stay here until this is over, and you can reschedule later.”

“I cannot reschedule. If you cannot help me, I will ask the Mayor to provide protection. He is a friend.”

He gave her an irritated glance. “Your choice, Miss Tereshkova. But I’ll do what I can, in the event you decide to ignore police advice. You’d better tell that to your friend the Mayor.” He wandered to the window to look out, as if for reassurance the shooter wasn’t already staking out the hotel. “Jesus Christ. Fucking media, the vultures, how in the hell did they find out?”

They joined him at the window, and it was chaos. Three TV trucks parked outside, presenters recording fillers while standing in front of the steps. A cluster of reporters and rubberneckers milled around in the street. He snarled at Cullum.

“Call the precinct. Tell ‘em to send some uniforms around to secure this place. I want those reporters pushed back, and no one comes in or out without my say-so. Clear?”

Cullum nodded, took out his cell, and gave instructions to the dispatcher. When he’d finished, Mason started to leave, with a final admonition.

“You stay in here. I have uniformed officers on the way, and they’ll protect you. I’ll check out everything you told me, and let you know if we find out anything.

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