Chapter 9
Vadim
As much as I had been looking forward to teaching Iskra her place, Konstantin’s call took precedence.
Chechens. Discovered north of the city, along the river. Five men, positioned and waiting. They knew the route. They knew the thaw was coming and they had chosen their ground accordingly, which meant either excellent intelligence or someone on our side who had provided it.
Neither possibility was acceptable.
I stood at my office window and watched Ruslan’s car pull through the gates below. Hisbykiclimbed out with him, but he spoke to them briefly and they fell back—one lighting a cigarette against the cold, the other returning to the car. Ruslan alone came inside. A conversation he wanted contained.
I poured two drinks and waited.
The knock was perfunctory. He entered, clocked the glasses immediately, and crossed the room to take one with the ease of a man who had been doing exactly this for years.
“What a day to begin your nuptials,” he murmured, and took a sip.
I shrugged. The marriage was filed, the ceremony was done, the wife was in the west wing being shown to her room. It would keep.
“How many men were found?”
“Five confirmed. They are being interrogated now.”
“Ortsa or Tolam?”
“Could be either faction.” He turned the glass slowly.“Or worse—both.”
I considered that. Two Chechen factions operating in coordination along our northern route was a different problem to one. It suggested communication, shared objective, and someone willing to broker between groups that had no history of cooperation.
“How did they get into our territory?”
“That we don’t have yet. It will take time to extract.”
I took a long pull of vodka before I said it.
“What if our own people gave them access?”
Ruslan’s expression didn’t change dramatically, but something shifted behind his eyes—the look of a man who had already considered the same possibility and hadn’t wanted to be the one to say it first.
“It’s possible,” he said.“Konstantin is on site. Grigori and Aleksandr too.”
Good. Between the three of them there would be no ambiguity about how the interrogation was conducted or how thoroughly the surrounding area was swept. Grigori was methodical. Aleksandr was thorough. Konstantin was neither of those things, which in this context was exactly what was needed.
“I want answers,” I said, tightening my grip on the glass.“All of them. Names, entry point, who spoke to whom and when. Everything.”
“Yes, Pakhan.” Ruslan set his glass on the desk and reached for his phone.
The thaw had barely begun and the Chechens were already testing the routes.
It was going to be a long spring.
??????
The hour was late when Ruslan, Valentin and Mikhail finally left.
Alternative routes had been plotted along the northern corridor, finances repositioned to account for increased security deployment, patrol schedules restructured. Eight men found in total. Eight men who had talked—because they all talked eventually, and Konstantin’s dual position as enforcer and killer existed precisely to accelerate that process. Grigori and Aleksandr’s soldiers had observed and learned. The interrogations had been educational for everyone present, in different ways.
They were all Tolam’s men. Spies first, soldiers second, and none of them had accounted for what they were walking into.
