“Of course,” she replied without any thought. “Shall I put you through to Deputy Director Borodin?” she added quickly.
“Borodin? As in GRU Borodin?” Pyotr almost choked as he spoke.
“No, as in Dr Helena Borodin,” she replied.
“Of course, there are lots of Borodins!” he replied, laughing off the ridiculousness of his question.
“I believe she is his niece!” she added matter of factly. “Will I connect you?”
Pyotr struggled to garner his thoughts. “Hmm, no it’s OK, it really wasn’t important and is no longer necessary,” he managed, despite himself.
The secretary having done her job gave him a clipped goodbye and ended the call.
Pytor slumped onto the bed as the repercussions of the call reverberated throughout his mind.
First things first though, they had to move. He packed his bag and made his way to Alexa’s room. It took almost a minute of hard knocking to wake her up. Eventually her door opened, a long white t-shirt managed just to cover the roundness of her very pert bottom, something Pyotr, under normal circumstances, would have paid far more attention to as he followed the half asleep figure back towards her bed.
“What do you want Pyotr? I really need to sleep,” she whined.
Pyotr didn’t sit or speak. Instead, he approached the window and pulled the curtain back slightly allowing him to check the parking lot below.
“What’s wrong Pyotr?” prompted Alexa, his behavior bringing her out of her slumber.
“Deputy Director Beryutov is dead!”
Alexa looked at him, speechless.
“Killed in a car crash on his way to work this morning,” added Pyotr.
“That’s terrible!” Neither was under any illusion of what really happened.
“But we’ve had the all clear from Borodin,” she offered in comfort to a very nervous Pyotr.
“Yes but we have a major problem. I know how this works. A quick action followed by a thorough clean up.”
“We’ll be fine!” she confirmed again with confidence.
Pyotr pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Alexa. The screen showed the name 'DD Beryutov’.
Alex clicked the name and a text message appeared.
'In office, meeting with Director — stand by for orders.’
The date and time were that morning in Moscow at 6.54 a.m.
Alexa didn’t need Pyotr to spell out what it meant. She got up and packed her bag. They needed to move. Pyotr and Alexa had proof that Deputy Director Beryutov had not died on the way to the office but had in fact met with the Director prior to his death. They of course knew that GRU was involved via General Borodin. In short, they were walking corpses at least as soon as the telephone records for Beryutov were checked and the message to Pyotr was uncovered.
As she packed her bag, Pyotr updated her on the identity of the new Deputy Director, Helena Borodin, niece of General Borodin.
“Jesus, we are so fucked!” she offered unnecessarily as they fled the room.
As they got into the car, both looked at each other for ideas of where to go. They sat silently as both considered all the options. The world was a big place but whether it was big enough to evade the SVR and GRU was an entirely different question.
It was Alexa who uttered the word they were both thinking. “Defect?” she asked.
Pyotr mulled it over before nodding his head slightly. It really was the only option if they wanted to stay alive. If they gave the Americans enough Intel, they would be placed under their witness protection program, something which offered all previous Soviet and Russian traitors a modicum of security.
He looked at Alexa. She nodded more firmly. Decision made. Pyotr turned the ignition key. The car spluttered but didn’t start. He tried it again.
“No, don’t!!” screamed Alexa but it was too late, the key was fully turned and the car’s engine started.
The look of panic on Pyotr’s face turned to laughter as the low hum of the running engine allayed Alexa’s worst fears. Her paranoia was also replaced with laughter, as both realized how ridiculous they were being. The Russian system was not that efficient.
They were, of course, correct. The Russian system was not that efficient. It was only after Pyotr’s call that the Russians were alerted to any issues with regard to Pyotr and Alexa. The secretary was certain that the reference to 'on the way to work’ had somewhat surprised Travkin and she had conveyed this to her boss Helena Borodin. They quickly tracked down the reason for Pyotr’s surprise and a team had been dispatched to deal with the loose end.
However Pyotr and Alexa were already in the car with the engine running as that order was issued.
“OK, nearest US government agency it is then!”
“Yep,” agreed Alexa.
Pyotr selected reverse and hit the accelerator. Whether it was selecting the gear or pushing the accelerator that ended his life, he’d never know. The explosion that destroyed any link between Borodin, GRU, SVR and Sean Fox was massive and incinerated Alexa and Pyotr instantly.
General Yuri Borodin, Head of Russia’s GRU, didn’t hold power in one of Russia’s most powerful offices by chance. The text message from the freelance assassin he had hired the previous day informed him that his loose end had been tightened. He checked the time. His own team would be arriving in Laredo shortly. One of the other benefits of being the boss of GRU was that you had your own 'private’ army on call — Russia’s Spetsnaz troops, over twelve thousand special forces, were under Borodin’s direct control.
Chapter 24
As the door crashed open, Miguel’s corpse answered Luis’ first question. At least he knew Miguel wasn’t being disrespectful or stupid. Death was pretty much the only acceptable reason for not answering the call.
His two men moved cautiously into the hallway as Luis waited by the front door for the all clear. The sound of footsteps from upstairs caught their attention and Luis’ men had their weapons swinging towards the staircase as they both crouched ready for whoever was going to appear.
“Come down with your hands up!” shouted Luis authoritively, peeking his head into the hallway. His Desert Eagle.50 pistol also drawn and ready. Its size was ludicrous in comparison to Luis but as a drug dealer and nephew of El Jefe, he liked to look the part and the power it projected helped his confidence and standing with the men, or so he believed.
Katie looked at Sean for guidance as the shout reverberated up the staircase. He patted his belt uselessly, the Glock sat by the front door, exactly where the shouts were coming from.
“They were definitely not police?” asked Sean quietly.
“I’ve seen the truck before, it’s Los Zetas” she replied adamantly.
Sean looked around. “Weapons?”
“All downstairs, locked in the gun cabinet,” she replied, the tears beginning to well again.
“Shit!”
“We do have a four year old!” she replied angrily, justifying her rule of no guns anywhere but in the safe.
“If you don’t come down in the ten seconds, your son dies!” That shout had Katie running past Sean’s outstretched grip and down the stairs in an instant.
“Shit!” he said to himself, as she escaped his grasp. He stood waiting for the gunfire but none came. They didn’t open fire on her. He didn’t know much about the Mexican cartels but was fairly sure they’d be like any other gang. If you kill one of theirs, they killed you.
With no gunfire, Sean was left with a dilemma. Should he join her? They didn’t know he was there. At least they didn’t know Sean Fox was there. They may suspect somebody else was there. She may tell them. She was a mother trying to save her child but she also thought he was her husband. So she may not. Sean swayed one way then another. He could slip out of a back window and come back through the front, grab his Glock and take them out. Or, she could be raped and killed within the next few minutes, not something he wanted on his conscience. They of course may have the boy with them and kill them both.