since they had spotted him. The cowboy was still sleeping, his pointy cowboy boots resting on the table. Kornev estimated the man to be 220 pounds, but it was hard to determine his height since he was sitting down. He began to walk slowly toward the man, knowing the man had a reason for sitting there. If the reason wasn’t to kill him, he must have something else on his mind.
The passenger door opened, and Kara stepped out, making her way to the front of the Hummer. She didn’t have a weapon but felt as if her presence might calm Hail since this type of confrontation really wasn’t his forte. She watched Kornev approach the table.
As he closed within ten meters of the table, Hail used his index finger to push back the hat on his head. Hail glanced at Kara.
Behind Kornev’s back, she performed a pantomime of a gun with her hand, and then pretended to stick it in the back waistband of her pants.
Hail responded with a single nod.
Kornev kept his hands out to his sides, making sure that the man saw they were empty. He walked slow and purposeful, warily; he was careful to avoid making any sudden movements. It was within the realm of possibilities there was a sniper with his scope trained on Kornev. If he had set this up, there would be a sniper present.
As he got closer to the table, Kornev could make out the man’s features. He was not old, probably in his forties. He had dark hair and a strong face. He was wearing a polo shirt like the one he wore. But, the cowboy’s shirt was just an off-the-rack, green polo shirt. He was wearing blue jeans and his feet were still propped on the table, which was not a great way to defend oneself. It was obvious he did not view Kornev as a threat.
“A regular cowboy,” the Russian muttered to himself.
As Kornev closed within ten feet of the table, the man set his boots on the ground and told the Russian, “Move very slowly. Don’t spook the drones.”
Kornev almost laughed. The man was talking about the machines as if they were wild dogs ready to attack at the slightest provocation. But since this type of technology was new to him, Kornev yielded to the advice. He stopped when he reached the table. The Russian stood at ease behind the empty chair.
Sitting on the table in front of him was a bottle of water, a small white hand towel and two pearl-handled .38 Special revolvers. One of the vintage handguns was sitting with its butt end pointing towards the cowboy and the other was sitting in a mirrored fashion in front of Kornev. It looked like the guns were silverware laid out for a deadly luncheon.
“What’s this all about?” Kornev demanded.
“Sit down, slowly,” Hail told him.
Kornev sat on the wooden folding chair in front of the table.
Hail commanded the drones: GUARD HEAVY and they moved in unison. They brought up their guns up and pointed them at Kornev.
“I can’t stress to you the importance of moving slowly. Any quick movement will result in the drones to shoot whatever part of you is moving. It’s automatic. They’ll shoot you before you can even blink. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Kornev said, giving the drones a concerned look.
“By the time you get that gun out from behind your back, the hand that you shoot with will be gone. Do you understand?”
“How do you know I have a gun behind my back?” Kornev asked.
“You’re an arms dealer. If you didn’t have a gun behind your back, what type of professional weapons dealer would you be?”
Kornev said nothing.
Hail warned him again, “Do you understand that any sudden movement will cause the drones to shoot you?”
“Yes,” Kornev said again, “but I still don’t know why you are here and what this is about?”
“I’m getting to that part,” Hail said.
A bead of sweat dripped from Kornev’s cheek onto his shirt.
“Are you nervous?” Hail asked Kornev.
“No,” Kornev responded stubbornly.
“I’m asking because you’re sweating, and it’s not really hot outside today.”
Kornev looked mad.
“Here’s a towel,” Hail said, and he tossed the towel to Kornev.
Kornev instinctively moved to catch it with his right hand. In that fraction of a second, the drone to his right jerked and fired a single round.
The bullet clipped Kornev’s open hand, and the towel fell back onto the table.
For a moment, Kornev was clueless. He didn’t understand what had happened. He looked at his right hand and saw a drop of blood drip down from his little finger and land on the towel. Then it was as if a bottle of blood opened and sprayed on his hand. Blood began gushing from the bullet hole, and Kornev gritted his teeth, and he grimaced in pain.
“Why did you do that?” Kornev screamed. Moving very slowly, he held his bloody hand for Hail to see.
“Why did I throw you the towel?” Hail laughed. “It was to stop the bleeding from your new bullet hole. And you thought I was giving it to you because you were sweating so profusely.”
“Why did you shoot me?” Kornev fumed with anger, his teeth clenched so tightly together Hail thought he might snap a tooth.
“I didn’t shoot you. My drone shot you. Remember, I told you not to make any sudden movements. I was pretty darn clear about that.”
Kornev gave each of the drones a contentious look while he sneered at Hail.
Moving very slowly, Kornev picked the towel up from the table and used it to wrap his bloodied hand. Using his left hand, he applied pressure with the fingers on both the entry and exit holes of his right hand.
Hail smiled. He was really enjoying this. He gave Kornev a moment to get his act together before asking, “So, now do you understand the rules? Remember: No sudden movements. And, for God’s sake, don’t sneeze.”
Kornev held up his injured hand and looked at Hail scornfully. He said nothing.
Hail pointed at the Hummer and asked, “Who is that standing in front of your SUV?”
The question caught Kornev off guard. He had completely forgotten about Tonya.
“Just a girlfriend,” he said indignantly, as if explaining anything to the cowboy was beneath him.
“Can she be trusted?”
“Can any woman be trusted?” Kornev shot back.
“Good point,” Hail smiled.
Kornev said, “Why don’t you get to the point so I can get some help for my hand before I bleed out.”
“You’re not going to bleed out,” Hail said, “and quit being a baby. After all, you’re a big badass arms dealer. Maybe the biggest arms dealer in the world. I’m sure that a little ol’ bullet hole in the hand is nothing to you.”
Frustrated, Kornev asked, “Who are you? How do you know me? How do you know what I do?”
“Because you’re on the radar of just about every intelligence organization in the world. You sell nasty weapons to bad people. What? Did you seriously think that nobody knew who the man behind the curtain was?”
“What do you want?” Kornev said angrily.
“You can think of me as a recruiter,” Hail said, smiling.
“Recruiter?” Kornev questioned, not quite understanding the term.
“You know the guy they send out to get men to sign up for the military.”
“I’ve already been in the military,” Kornev said, adjusting his makeshift bandage on his right hand.
“Yeah, and the military you sold most of their gear to other countries as well,” Hail responded dryly.
Kornev said nothing.
“I like to get right to the point, Kornev. The United States government wants you to become their employee.”
Kornev laughed despite the pain.