Chasing Ivan - 2.1 by Tim Tigner

Author:Tim Tigner
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub

Chapter 14

“Who are you?”

“Agent Achilles, this is Director Rider, looking for a sitrep.”

The two incongruous questions hit me at the same time. The first, spoken in Russian, came from a large man in a waiter’s uniform identical to the one I’d just slipped on. I’d have to answer it first, which meant the head of the CIA was about to become confused. Normally I’d switch my ear mike off to spare us both the confusion, but that movement would look peculiar, and at a moment I needed to appear anything but. “I’m Volodya’s replacement, Vanya. Pleased to meet you.”

The intruder’s expression changed. “Which Volodya?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Dubnov? Was it Dubnov?”

“I’m not sure. His last name wasn’t mentioned.”

“I hope not, but I wouldn’t put it past Stepashin. He’ll fire anyone for anything. You better hurry up. It’s crazy up there, and Mister Voskerchyan doesn’t like crazy.” He gave me an appraising up-down glance. Seeming to approve, he said, “Take my advice and work to appear calm and deferential at all times, no matter what these spoiled bastards say or do. By the way, I’m Pavel. Gotta run.”

“What the hell is going on?” Director Rider asked in my ear.

Pavel turned and began to exit but then stopped short. Two other guys walked past him into the room. Pavel turned back around and said, “This is Volodya Dubnov,” pointing to a thick man with wrestler’s ears on his left, “and this is Volodya Mendelson,” pointing right to a handsome guy whose height and build were more suited for the NFL than a cruise ship. “Which one are you replacing?”

The gig was up. Pavel’s expression told me he knew he’d been played, and wasn’t happy about it. I was oh for two on finesse today, and the stakes were mounting with each failure. This time I was facing a veritable wall of opposition. At six-foot-two and two-twenty, I’m no powder puff, but these three were close to that on average, accent on the three.

“Mister Voskerchyan doesn’t like thieves or spies,” Pavel continued. “Which one are you?”

Wrestler spoke next, confirming that Pavel’s question was rhetorical. “Last guy we caught provided us with a week’s worth of entertainment before we let the sharks in on the fun. It gets boring down here in the crew quarters, you see. All the good stuff is up top. So thanks for joining us—regardless of your reason.”

“International waters are like outer space,” Handsome added. “Nobody can hear you scream.”

While they were busy working themselves up as men do before combat, I was assessing the situation. The trick was going to be rendering them unconscious without inflicting permanent damage or worse, although the more they talked, the less I was concerned about ‘worse.’ Keep talking, guys. Given the close-quarters combat environment, I pegged Wrestler as the biggest threat and decided to take him out first.

“Let’s go talk to Voskerchyan,” I said, raising doubt as I moved toward them and the door.

The uppercut has several advantages, one of which is that it’s delivered through the undefended territory between the arms.

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