Another voice answered, ‘Cowboy Gamma. I’m ten metres south-east of the guesthouse. No sign of Mr and Mrs VIP yet. A gorilla is on patrol near the swimming pool. Over.’
‘Copy that, Cowboy Gamma,’ the gravelly voice replied. ‘Let me know when you have eyes on Mr and Mrs VIP. What’s the target’s status, Cowboy Bravo? Over.’
‘Cowboy Bravo. The target is awake and having himself some breakfast. He has absolutely no idea his ticket is gonna get punched. Over.’
CHAPTER 51
Kasakov stirred from his sleep and groaned. His face was buried in a big goose-down pillow. One of Izolda’s slender arms was draped across his waist. He lay still for a minute, enjoying the intimate feel of his wife’s limb, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her flesh. When Kasakov rolled on to his back, the movement roused a sleepy moan from his wife. He gently kissed her on the forehead, the tip of her little nose, and then finally on the lips. She smiled and kissed him back. He found her especially beautiful first thing in the morning when only he got to see her.
‘What time is it?’ she asked, eyes still closed.
‘Just before eight.’
‘Wow,’ she said with raised eyebrows, ‘and you’re still here in bed. I’m honoured.’
‘I’m on vacation, aren’t I?’
‘Does that mean you won’t answer the phone when Yuliya and Tomasz call?’
‘I’ll do my best. How does that sound?’
She grunted. They kissed again.
Kasakov sat up and yawned. ‘What would you like for breakfast, my love?’
She stroked his wide chest. ‘Hmm, your famous scrambled eggs, please. Plus orange juice and some melon. And coffee, lots of coffee.’
‘A veritable banquet.’ He scratched the back of his head. ‘What might I receive in return for preparing such a feast?’
Izolda gave a cheeky grin. ‘You get the pleasure of making it and bringing it to your gorgeous wife.’
‘Ah,’ Kasakov said, ‘sustenance enough for any man.’
‘You had better believe it.’
He climbed out of bed and opened the drapes. The dacha’s master bedroom was at the front of the house and the window provided a breathtaking view of the Black Sea. Kasakov stretched as he stared outwards at gulls circling near the shoreline.
This was his favourite part of the country. Sochi had sandy beaches, the climate was as hot as it got in Russia, and the nearby Caucasus Mountains offered excellent skiing. Kasakov came with Izolda at least a couple of times a year, though he kept away from the tourist-heavy city itself, as well as the havens where Russia’s elite frivolously spent their wealth. He preferred the isolation his dacha provided. It had its own private beach, accessible via a path through the woods, where he could relax without the bother of other people, and especially their children.
He’d bought the house when the international efforts to bring him down started to pick up momentum. He hadn’t left the country for any purpose other than the most important business trips since then; the risks were so great that even those trips were growing less frequent, and only then to nations who wouldn’t go running to the UN.
‘What’s the weather like?’ Izolda asked.
‘Blue sky, sunshine,’ Kasakov answered. ‘It’s going to be nice for once.’
‘Great,’ Izolda said. ‘I think I might have a swim after breakfast.’
Victor glimpsed a blur passing by one of the mansion’s visible upstairs windows, which he recognised to be Kasakov’s wife by the slightness of the silhouette. Kasakov’s large frame followed a moment later, but again did so too fast to risk a shot, especially when the temperature was continuing to rise and the sky remained clear of rainclouds. Another ten degrees and it would be perfect weather to use the swimming pool.
The Dakota Longbow lay directly next to Victor, shielded from the elements by a waterproof sheet weighed down with small rocks. When the time came, it would take but a split second to whip the sheet away and prepare for the shot. The sight was already set for the distance. There was little wind at the moment. Maybe two and a half miles per hour.
Aside from the pleasant chirping of the birds above his head, there was no other sound. In other circumstances, Victor would have enjoyed camping in the forest. Maybe one day he would come back to Sochi and do just that, only far away from here.
He used a straw to drink some water while he watched the dacha. Soon the job would be complete and Victor’s obligation to his nameless employer finally over.
One squeeze of the trigger and he would be a free man again.
The American using the call sign Cowboy Bravo remained kneeling in the undergrowth approximately twenty yards to the right of the target’s position. From his elevation and angle, the man in the ghillie suit could only see the target’s legs, elbows and half of the binoculars. The rest of him was hidden by the undergrowth, trees and rain sheet, but there was no need to keep a more complete view. The American saw enough to maintain eyes on the target.
He only needed to see more when the order came to complete the kill.
The American’s earpiece crackled. ‘This is Cowboy Daddy. Gimme a sitrep, Cowboys. Over.’
Another voice whispered, ‘Cowboy Gamma, I’m eight metres south-west of the main building, alongside the shed. I can see Mr and Mrs VIP through the kitchen window, fixing coffee. Two gorillas are out and about. Mrs VIP is wearing a swimsuit, over.’
‘This is Cowboy Bravo,’ the man in the ghillie suit answered. ‘I’m exactly nineteen metres north of the target. Ready and waiting. Over.’
‘Copy that,’ Cowboy Daddy replied. ‘Cowboy Gamma, maintain your visual on Mr VIP. When he drops, you let us know and we can finish up here. If our boy is waiting for Mr VIP to step outside, today could be the day. Maintain focus, Bravo. Out.’
The American was patient but looked forward to fulfilling the mission. It would be simple.
One squeeze of the trigger and the target was a dead man.
Izolda finished her breakfast and kissed her husband on the cheek. They were sitting side by side at the breakfast bar of the dacha’s kitchen.
‘That was divine, Vladimir,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
Kasakov nodded and slurped some coffee. ‘Always a pleasure.’
She wrapped her thin arms around his huge shoulders, stretching to lock her fingers together. She kissed him again. ‘I’m so glad we came away. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea with how strained things have been between us recently, but it’s been wonderful.’
‘And now the sun is shining it will only get better.’
She grinned. ‘It’s a shame we can’t live here. It’s much nicer here than in Moscow. There’s no noise, no stress, no distractions. Just the two of us. In Moscow I have to share you with all your business associates, and you’ve been so busy lately it’s as if you’d forgotten I even existed.’
He covered her hands with his. ‘I could never forget about you.’
‘I didn’t mean it quite like that. I just meant you’ve been so distracted it’s lovely to have your full attention again. I’ve finally got you all to myself and I’m going to make the most of it.’
‘Is that right?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh yes.’
‘Well,’ Kasakov began, ‘I’m glad it’s nice to have my attention again, because you’re going to be getting a lot more of it.’
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘And what does that mean?’
He took a deep breath and said, ‘I think it’s about time I took a step back from the business.’
She released him from the hug and turned on her stool to better face him. Instead of looking happy, the way he’d hoped she would look, she appeared unconvinced. ‘Really?’
Kasakov nodded. ‘Why not? We have so much money it would take forever just to count it all. And besides, I’m tired of it all. I’m so tired.’
Izolda was shaking her head, not in disagreement but disbelief. ‘I don’t know what to say. This is so sudden.’