Zero by Ty Patterson

Author:Ty Patterson [Patterson, Ty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Aces Publishing Ltd

* * *

Andropov took care of the body and before leaving, hugged Zeb and whispered softly.

‘Neatly played, tovarich. Why don’t you stay in Moscow for some time and get rid of all gangsters?’

Zeb joined Belov in his limo, declined the offer of a drink and leaned back while the limo sped down empty streets past red lights – what were red lights to the most powerful Russian mobster – and stopped in front of his office.

The office was twenty stories tall, had a mirrored glass and a modernistic feel, and was behind the Kremlin.

‘A short distance to run when my masters call,’ Belov said when Zeb looked at the domes of the Russian palace.

He smiled knowingly when Zeb understood the oblique reference.

He led the way inside, nodding at guards who sprang to attention.

A private elevator opened into an office half the size of a tennis court, on the fifteenth floor.

The two man-mountains disappeared, presumably to pump some more weights. The hard faced men took their positions on couches and stared at nothing in particular.

Belov picked up an ivory-colored phone, spoke into it softly and then poured two cups of steaming coffee from a silver flask.

A young man entered the office, carrying a laptop. He had long flowing hair, a thick brown beard, and wore a loose Grateful Dead T-shirt.

It was nearing dawn, however, if Belov was awake, so was the rest of his organization.

‘Oleg,’ Belov introduced him to Zeb. He didn’t mention a last name and didn’t introduce Zeb in return.

Oleg plugged his laptop, typed furiously in it, looked at Belov for confirmation and when he got a nod, turned the screen toward Zeb.

Zeb leaned forward. It seemed to be a message board. Its name was blanked out.

‘That is where the South Africans were hired. Oleg set the website up for people to post jobs, others to respond.’

‘I thought it was taken down!’

‘It is down,’ Belov replied drily. ‘What you are seeing is a static page.’

Oleg went into technical details, spoke of Tor, the dark internet, and used other terms that Zeb was sure the twins and Broker would understand. They didn’t matter to him.

He was interested in the buyer’s identity.

Belov sensed his impatience and cut Oleg off.

‘All job posters went through a verification process. They had to prove who they were.’

‘How was that done?’

‘A video call with Oleg.’

‘Those can be faked, can’t they?’

‘Not if there is a live TV playing in the background, tuned to a specific news channel.’

‘They could wear face masks.’

‘They could,’ Belov acknowledged. ‘That is something we have no control over.’

‘What if they don’t want to reveal themselves?’

‘They don’t get to post, then. There are hundreds of such sites in the darknet. They can go to those, or use other means of recruitment.’

‘Why should they trust you?’

‘Because I am Vitali Belov. Those in the darknet knew this board was mine.’

Oleg ran a search and came back with several records. He clicked on one and the screen opened to reveal the job.

Snipers Wanted, ran the headline.

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