CHAPTER 24

Khamovniki District, Moscow

Brogidan Yusoff, head of the Russian Ministry of Resources and Agriculture, poured two large glasses of Kors vodka. At one thousand Euros a bottle, the vodka was one of the country’s most luxurious brands. Its pure liquid was filtered through a blend of crushed charcoal and diamond powder; drinking it was like imbibing water from one of heaven’s lakes that when swallowed, turned to fire as it went down the throat.

He turned away to gaze out over the Moskva River. His apartment traversed the top floor of the building that sat just on the bend of the river that overlooked the Bolshoi Kamenny Bridge. It was known as the Golden Mile, and one of Moscow’s most expensive housing areas.

It was early evening and the lights were just going on – golden-white gems popping on all over the cityscape. There were leafy trees, high-end shops, and tonight, a darkening blue velvet sky that all added to his glorious mood.

His doorbell rang, and he crossed to admit Uli Stroyev into the downstairs foyer, where his expected official would take the lift to his front door. He unlocked it, ready for him, and walked back to the small antique table with the glasses waiting. His lifted one and saluted the winding river.

“To you, Valery; may your bones never find peace.” He grinned. “Wherever they lay scattered.”

Behind him the door squeaked open and then closed softly. He reached down for the second crystal glass of perfectly clear liquid, and lifted it, turning to his friend.

“A job well done, my friend…”

He froze, tiny crystal glass suspended in the air. Stroyev was being held by two large figures, all in black with balaclavas pulled down, and just showing merciless eyes. His colleague was pale as milk, and his eyes were so round they threatened to pop right from his head.

Two more figures stepped closer, dressed exactly the same as the others. Both held guns, pointed at his chest. One motioned towards his outstretched hand.

“Drink it.” The voice was feminine.

Yusoff began to smirk. “Do you know who I…”

The gun lowered to point at his groin. “Drink it, or lose your balls… comrade.”

He licked his lips. What the hell, he needed the drink, and he would play for time. He downed the expensive liquid in a gulp.

“Delicious. Can I offer you—”

“Pour another. Drink it.”

The voice was far too cold for his liking. He tried to think who it could be, and what they wanted. He poured slowly, lifted the glass again, his mind working.

“Keep going. Faster. Finish the bottle.” She motioned with the gun.

“You have no idea, what you’re getting yourself into. Who are you?”