There were not many closed cities left in Russia but those that were, were closed for good reason and outsiders were rarely welcomed with open arms. The small town of Grebnevo was no different.
As the car exited the small town, the countryside opened up before them. Borodin wondered exactly where they were going. Grebnevo was behind them and as far as he was aware, that was where they were supposed to be going. Just as he was about to ask that very question, the driver took a sharp turn and had them careering down a small track into the woods that lined the road as far as the eye could see.
Borodin watched with increasing interest as they drove past numerous checkpoints, all exceptionally well concealed and guarded by soldiers who, despite their remote locales, remained extremely vigilant. The most interesting point, however, was the uniform adorning the guards. They bore the insignia of the Kremlin Guard, the president’s personal security detail and most trusted of the military regiments. The no-fly zone began to make sense. “I see the President is here.” Borodin stated rather than asked.
“No,” replied Surkov crisply.
“But his guard?” offered Borodin as explanation for his statement.
“Ours also!” replied Surkov, offering no additional explanation.
Before he could ask any further questions, they began to slow down as large metal gates blocked the road ahead. As they slowly swung open, Borodin could see they were at least two meters thick. They were more like vault doors than gates. Whatever Grebnevo was, it was apparent the world wasn’t supposed to know about it. And whatever Borodin was expecting to see behind the gates, it wasn’t what met his gaze. One of the most stunning neo-classic churches he had ever seen stood before them. Towering above the forest around them and overlooking a beautiful lake, the church took his breath away.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” asked Surkov as he watched Borodin’s response to the view.
“Beautiful,” he said taking in every detail.
“Just wait until you see the house!”
With that, the driver pushed on the accelerator and they sped under the archway by the side of the church and covered the two kilometers of driveway to the main house.
Borodin looked at a building he had seen in ruin. Something that the house was definitely not. It reminded him of the American President’s White House, only bigger, far bigger.
“I thought this was a ruin?” he asked aghast at how perfect the building was.
“A little Photoshop trick!” laughed Surkov. “I believe if you google us you even see tourists in the photos.”
“Anyway, enough of the cover story, General Borodin, welcome to Grebnevo.”
Chapter 26
Luis pulled out a small notebook and a cell phone. “You give me the names and details and I’ll have your son back in thirty minutes!”
“I need to see James. Once he’s here, you’ll get what you want,” replied Sean with some force.
“Maybe in your world but not in mine. Details, then boy!” countered Luis making it clear there was no room for discussion.
Sean looked at Katie as he tried desperately to think of a way to stall Luis. The look of hope in her face just added to his dismay. He was royally screwed. Offering the leads had seemed the right thing to do at the time, not so much any more.
“Well!” prompted Luis, a slight irritation had crept back into his voice after his initial elation at the prospect of getting what his uncle so desperately wanted.
Sean looked back at Luis, desperately trying to think of something that would allow him to stall just a little longer.
“What the fuck?!” Luis jumped from his seat and rushed towards the TV screen that was mounted on the central wall of the living room and turned up the volume.
“…It’s like a war zone here!” shouted the reporter, gunfire and explosions drowned out the reporter’s words.
The picture jumped back to the newsroom.
“If you have just joined us, the war zone pictures you have just witnessed are not from Iraq or Afghanistan, they are in fact from just across the border, in Nuevo Laredo. Running battles in the streets have left scores dead and hundreds wounded as Los Zetas and the Gulf cartels battle for control. Concern continues to rise as the violence edges ever closer to the US border and Laredo…”
“Shit!” exclaimed Luis. “What the hell has he done?!”
It seemed Sean’s prayers had been answered. He had his reason to stall.
“Obviously, we will need to work something out. With the border closed, you can’t get our son back to us and I am not giving you anything before I get him back!” said Sean, taking advantage of the situation and playing hardball.
Luis ignored Sean as he watched the events unfold on the screen. His uncle had obviously decided to create so much devastation that nobody in their right mind would visit Nuevo Laredo. Luis had to hand it to him, he had set out to stop the meeting and that was in all likelihood exactly what his plan had achieved but at what cost?
“I need those names and details,” Luis finally said as the news moved on to another topic.
“Not without getting my son!” demanded Sean.
“Shoot her!” said Luis angrily, pointing to one of his men. Fortunately he had left his pistol on the sofa and was spared the embarrassment of being unable to pull the trigger himself.
Sean jumped from his seat and blocked the gunman’s view of the terrified Katie.
“I promise you’ll get nothing if you do that!”
As the other gunman positioned himself to take the shot Luis raised his hand to stop him. “Enough.” The red mist that had descended had receded and rational thought had returned. “Just give me the details and everybody will walk out of here alive and I promise you will get your son back.”
Katie’s tearful eyes pleaded with Sean to give the men what they wanted.
Sean wished he could. He was at an impasse. There was nothing he could do other than lie and he had a distinct feeling that was going to achieve the young boy’s death much quicker than the truth. Sean considered those thoughts as they went through his mind. The truth.
“I need to speak to you in private!” he said with some sincerity to Luis.
Luis considered the request and looked at the two bodies of his men that littered the house thanks to Sean.
Sean could see the indecision on Luis’ face and the thought of being left alone with a very experienced killer was not an inviting one.
“I promise, I will not try anything stupid, you have my wife and son at gun point!”
“My men can hear whatever you have to say.”
“You don’t know what I have to say and I can assure you your uncle would not thank them for knowing what I am going to tell you.” Sean could see the use of his uncle was working. For good measure, he added. “In fact, I’d be surprised if he let them live.” Just to ensure neither of Luis’ men tried to talk him out of a one to one with Sean.
It had worked. He could see both gunmen motioning for Luis to go with Sean. They would cover Katie while Sean and Luis talked.
“OK but you try anything and you all die,” promised Luis, retrieving his desert eagle from the sofa and pointing it at Sean and motioned him towards the hallway.
“I won’t be long,” offered Sean to Katie as he rose from the sofa.
Her eyes spoke volumes, pleading, that, whatever happened, she wanted her boy back home safe.
Sean squeezed her shoulder as he followed Luis’ instructions and walked into the hallway. Luis followed a few steps behind, the desert eagle remaining firmly aimed at the back of Sean’s head.
Sean turned and entered the kitchen.
“That’s far enough, take a seat at the table over there,” instructed Luis, stopping Sean short of the kitchen cabinets and drawers.
Sean pulled out a chair and sat down. The table, he noted, was one massive chunk of oak. Very nice, he thought, running his fingers across the perfectly smooth surface and definitely not cheap.