‘Move, and I’ll kill you,’ Kilkenny warned, more a promise than a threat.
He propped himself up, grinding his knee into the center of Orlov’s back. He then pulled the pistol from Orlov’s quivering grip and tossed it down the tunnel.
‘I have money,’ Orlov said feebly.
‘What?’
‘Money. I have money, lots of it. I’ll give you ten million dollars to let me go.’
‘How the fuck are you going to get me ten million dollars?’
‘I have accounts, in Switzerland. Personal accounts,’ Orlov rambled nervously. ‘I can wire the money anywhere you like, with a phone call.’
‘You had Swiss accounts.’
‘What?’
Kilkenny placed the barrel of his Glock at the base of Orlov’s skull, then leaned close to the oligarch’s ear.
‘Everything you owned is gone. Your companies. Your investments. Your numbered Swiss accounts. Your real estate. Every fucking thing in your billion-dollar portfolio is gone, and I’m the guy who took it from you. Hell, the only thing I didn’t get is the change in your pockets.’
Kilkenny pressed his pistol deeper into the flesh of Orlov’s neck.
‘You’re going to kill me?’ Orlov shrieked.
‘A coup de grâce would be appropriate, don’t you think, considering what you did to Sandstrom and Paramo and a lot of other people who had the misfortune of coming into contact with a disgusting parasite like you.’
A bright flashlight flooded the tunnel.
‘Kilkenny!’ a voice shouted from the far end.
‘The Alphas are coming, and they seem to want you alive. I guess I’d better finish this now.’
Kilkenny leaned back, the Glock still poised to blow Orlov’s head open.
‘Kilkenny!’ Fydorov shouted, fast approaching — more footsteps behind him. ‘Let us handle Orlov!’
As Kilkenny squeezed back on the trigger, he shifted the barrel of the Glock two inches to the right. A burning flash erupted from the pistol as Kilkenny’s last round ripped through the top of Orlov’s ear, struck the floor, and ricocheted into the black distance of the tunnel.
‘You’re in luck, Orlov. I missed.’
Orlov fainted, and a small pool of blood formed beside his head. Kilkenny stood as Fydorov and two Alphas arrived.
‘Did you kill him?’ Fydorov asked, looking down at the motionless form.
‘Not my style. I’ll let the courts deal with this scumbag. Do you still have gulags over here?’
‘I’m certain an appropriate home can be found for him.’ Fydorov turned to his men. ‘Get him out of here.’
‘I’m glad you figured out where I went,’ Kilkenny said.
‘That little explosion you set off left no doubt. Come on, let’s get your injuries taken care of.’
67
A young FSB officer led Kilkenny through the corridors of Lubyanka, as the former offices of the Rossiya Insurance Company had been known since Lenin’s secret police commandeered the building in 1918. After the assault on Orlov’s building, Kilkenny was taken to a private hospital for treatment of his injuries, then discharged and returned to his hotel for the night. The next morning after breakfast, he was escorted to Lubyanka for questioning regarding the Orlov affair. His interrogation was merely a matter of courtesy.
‘You are finally here. Good, have a seat,’ Fydorov said with a smile as Kilkenny entered his office. ‘That will be all, Lieutenant.’
The officer snapped a crisp salute, turned on his heel, and departed down the corridor.
‘How is your arm?’ Fydorov asked.
‘Fine. The docs say it’s just a separation; I have to keep it in a sling for a couple of weeks. They say I might have some tendonitis in the joint.’
‘I am relieved that your injuries weren’t more severe.’ Fydorov’s manner grew more somber. ‘I have received a message from our President. On behalf of the Russian people, he extends our gratitude to both you and Bart Cooper for your assistance in bringing Orlov and his associates to justice.’
‘I guess the appropriate thing to say would be pazhálsta.’ Kilkenny then laughed.
‘What do you find amusing?’
‘Nothing, really. It just struck me a little odd that, after everything that’s happened, I can be thanked for my “assistance” in this matter. It sounds like I changed a flat tire for the guy.’
A toothy grin transformed Fydorov’s stern face. ‘Politicians. They have the unnatural ability to state things in such a way as to render the words utterly devoid of meaning.’
‘I see some things are universal.’
‘Da. Death, taxes, and politicians, who are often responsible for some of the former and all of the latter.’
Fydorov reached down and picked up a black, softsided briefcase, which he set on top of his wooden desk.
‘This was retrieved from the lab; I believe it belongs to you.’
Kilkenny unzipped the briefcase; his laptop was inside.
‘Our technicians were very impressed with your computer, particularly with the internal satellite modem.’
‘It turned out to be quite useful in tackling Orlov’s network. Did you get everything you need?’
‘Da. Your associate Grinelli was most helpful in unlocking Orlov’s secrets. I realize that we may not have as sophisticated computer equipment here as you do in the United States, but how did you take so much information out of Orlov’s network in so short a time? It took hours for my people to download the information Grinelli sent them.’
Kilkenny sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. ‘I’m afraid I’m not allowed to answer that.’
‘State secret. I understand,’ Fydorov replied, withdrawing the question. ‘We have an entire team of people sifting through the information you and your associates siphoned out of Orlov’s various businesses. This investigation will go on for years, and before it’s done, a lot of very powerful individuals will have to explain their dealings with Orlov. This may result in some much-needed housecleaning in the executive and legislative areas of our government.’
‘Sometimes, a little revolution is a good thing.’
‘Oh, I have something else that I believe belongs to you.’ Fydorov picked up a wooden box from his credenza and placed it on his desk. ‘We found this in the vault at Orlov’s bank.’
The side of the box bore a University of Michigan library bar code label. Kilkenny opened the lid and saw Johann Wolff’s six notebooks.
‘There is no need for these books to remain here as evidence. Cooper told me of their suspected importance, and I agree with him that they should be put back in the hands of their rightful owner.’
‘What about all the lab equipment that was stolen by Leskov?’
‘Dr Avvakum was most helpful in identifying those materials in her lab that she believes were stolen. These items have been packed and will be sent back to the United States.’
‘Thank you,’ Kilkenny said gratefully. ‘This is a great help in getting Ted Sandstrom’s research back on track.’
‘Regarding this research project you are involved in, I have a favor to ask.’
‘Oh,’ Kilkenny said, wondering what possible conditions Fydorov might have in exchange for the equipment and the notebooks.
‘Dr Avvakum has been completely cleared of any criminal involvement in this affair. Unfortunately, due to circumstances well beyond her control, she now finds herself unemployed. Cutbacks in the Academy of Sciences budget make it unlikely that she will be rehired there, not that I believe she wishes to return to her former posting in Siberia.’