The first thing Valentin did in Moscow was ask Brevich to make him his head of security. Ivan pretended to be friendly, patted Valyok on the back and treated him to a cognac but did not give him a job, fearing that the Chechen scandal would come to light and harm his business. Sakhnov took the rejection as another serious blow. It was a breach of the “fraternal comradeship” that he considered sacred after his years in the army. Yet he was not surprised; it was already clear: the dirty tricks fate was playing on him were all links in the same chain. His life had changed course, and he would have to accept it for what it was.
He went to work for a private security firm and after a while brought in a few former army friends. Soon, they quarreled with the management, resigned and set up their own “outfit.” They would take on anything; their moral compass had long since stopped working. Money was their only criterion, and on the whole business went well. Rich clients paid generously – although the depravity they encountered in the course of their work crossed all boundaries. This only convinced Valentin all the more that his life was moving in the wrong direction, but there was no turning it around.
Sometimes, he would talk about this with Sanyok Danilov – they would call each other regularly and about once a month get thoroughly drunk together. With regret, Sakhnov noted that Sanyok had changed for the worse too. Friendship was a distant memory; the only thing uniting them now was their discontent with their lives. As for Brevich, Valentin never saw him again, but he hadn’t forgotten and wasn’t going to forgive the snub. He believed sooner or later he would get a chance to get even.
And now the chance had fallen into his lap – when Danilov told Valyok about the plan to abduct Nok, he agreed almost immediately. Everything had fitted into place perfectly: Brevich needed to be taught a lesson – and this lesson would be a good one. People like Brevich should be punished, money-wise – and the amount promised to be lucrative!
The roles were split logically: Danilov was charged with financing the operation, and Sakhnov and his team with executing it. The cost of the hit, as Valentin quoted, seemed exorbitant to Sanyok at first, but after a little reflection he acceded, hoping for a generous ransom from Brevich. They agreed to share it equally, although Sakhnov had his own plans on that score. For him, this was another argument in favor of action – if he succeeded in hitting the jackpot, it would allow him to get out of business, change his circumstances and even go abroad for good. Who knew, maybe somewhere sunny, next to the sea, he’d work out where to take his topsy-turvy life later…
Valentin enlisted his most reliable people for the job. After observing Nok for a week, it was decided to kidnap her outside a secluded salon on Veskovsky Pereulok. Nok visited it once every two days and always walked home on foot – Brevich’s apartment was in the next block. She was only accompanied by a single bodyguard – the special-forces guys took a good look at him and decided he wouldn’t present too many problems. The operation began smoothly, but, as it turned out, the plan hadn’t covered every eventuality.
The man guarding Nok was from the tough neighborhood of Lyubertsy and had an identical surname and nickname – the Horse. His level of training wasn’t comparable to that of the former commandos, but he was an extremely strong and experienced street fighter. When two strangers in masks suddenly appeared out of nowhere, he instinctively feinted slightly to one side. As a result, the devastating short blow aimed at his temple didn’t fully connect, and, as he fell down, he managed to roll over, grab his gun and randomly open fire in his semiconscious state.
Almost all the bullets went astray, except for one – it hit Nok and inflicted a fatal wound. In the last few seconds of her life, several images flashed before her eyes. She saw her father and mother in the doorway of the house on wooden stilts. Then – the yellow river and her favorite buffalo. Then – the face of her unborn child, looking a bit like an alien. Then – nothing more.
Within an hour of the botched kidnapping, the perpetrators had disappeared from the city, and Valentin called Danilov saying they needed to talk urgently. They agreed to meet in a quiet section of the park where they had once played cops and robbers. Alexander arrived first; Sakhnov saw him from his hiding place behind the trees. Sanyok stood and smoked, nervously shifting from foot to foot – although he had no idea what had happened or what was awaiting him.
Stretching out his hand, Valentin calmly said, “Hi!” Then with a single, barely perceptible movement he knocked Danilov off his feet and, kneeling over him, slit his throat – carefully avoiding any blood, as he had been taught in Chechnya. For a few brief moments, he stood motionless, contemplating the dead body of his childhood friend. It was clear: fate had led him to exactly this juncture, having elected the most misguided path possible. Then he carefully wiped the knife, threw it into the bushes and walked away.
Chapter 10
The news of Nok’s death plunged Ivan into a kind of stupor. He felt almost nothing and was oblivious to the world around him. His receptors were not working – his brain no longer processed their signals. As if it no longer cared.
Nevertheless, functioning on autopilot, he was able to deal with the most pressing matters as efficiently as ever. First of all, Ivan called Pim, who spoke a little English. Choosing the simplest words, he told her the tragic news and asked her to help him talk to her parents, having prepared them beforehand.
Pim agreed; they all met on Skype the next day. Ivan was confronted with two people who had visibly aged, crushed by their grief. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word, “Nok is no longer with us. And neither is our son. All I can do is to bring her body over for the funeral and find those who are responsible. And I will do this.”
Nok’s father got up and left without saying a word. Her mother covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. It was clear there was nothing more to say. Pim signed to Ivan to hang up.
Two days later Brevich was sitting on a plane along with Nok’s embalmed body. This was his second trip to Thailand, a journey of sorrow. He spent the entire nine hours of the flight barely moving, staring unseeingly in front of him. As soon as the steward pronounced the word “Bangkok” over the PA, the anesthetic stupor began to fade, giving way to despair and pain. It rolled, crashed and retreated like the waves of the dull gray ocean.
Brevich understood: the ocean knew no bounds. Everything connected to Nok had been and would continue to be limitless. What he sensed now was only a premonition of something terrible waiting ahead. He knew it would come and was ready to accept it, but for now he still had a straw to cling to, an illusion of invulnerability. In a sense, he and Nok were still together. She was almost there next to him, on the same airplane.
And he desperately held onto this, clenching his jaw, hunched in his soft armchair. He could picture her face with his mind’s eye – a face alive and full of joy, the way he had been used to seeing her. The shadows of his thoughts were bound to the image with a steel chain. Their writhing remnants encircled it, seemingly emitting sounds – bitter, howling moans. Then their rumbling echo dispersed – as they were ripped away from the circle, floundered in swamps, sunk in quicksand without forming themselves into anything of substance…