Heads You Win

“And the balance sheet?” asked Jake, turning to their number cruncher.

“They don’t seem to understand the basic tenets of modern accountancy practice,” said Mitch Blake. “Which isn’t surprising, as their economy’s been run by party hacks for decades. But it’s still the best goddamn bottom line I’ve ever seen.”

“So let’s play devil’s advocate for a moment,” said Alex. “What’s the downside?”

“They could steal our twenty-five million,” said Andy Harbottle. “But I don’t think we should pack our bags just yet.”

* * *

Over dinner that night, Alex was pleased to see the team relaxing for the first time.

“Are you still seeing your uncle for lunch tomorrow?” asked Jake.

“Sure am. I’m hoping he might be able to give me some inside knowledge on how to handle the current regime.”

“Do you know what this country needs?” said Jake as he cut into a tough steak.

“For my mother to open a pizza parlor on Nevsky Prospect—Elena’s Thirty-seven.”

“That first, and then you should stand for president. An honest Russian who understands free enterprise is exactly what this country needs at the moment.”

“That was always my boyhood dream,” said Alex. “If my father hadn’t been killed, then perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?” said Jake, but Alex didn’t reply as he stared directly ahead. He’d just noticed the three men seated at a table on the other side of the restaurant. The one fear he’d pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly facing him. He wasn’t in any doubt who the older man was, or why the two thugs seated on either side of him were there.

The vicious scar that stretched down the left side of the man’s face and neck was an instant reminder of where he and Alex had last met. Polyakov’s chilling words, “You’ll hang for this,” reverberated in his ears. Anna was right, he should never have made the trip. Jake and his team were more than capable of handling the deal witho

ut him. But he’d allowed the thrill of the chase to overrule common sense.

The man continued to stare at Alex, his eyes fixed on him. Alex wasn’t in any doubt of his intentions. While the rest of the team discussed tactics for the next day, Alex sat on the edge of his seat, tense and alert as he waited for the major to make the first move in a game of chess, which wasn’t likely to end in stalemate.

Alex touched Jake’s elbow. “Listen carefully,” he whispered. “The man I nearly killed the day I escaped from Leningrad is sitting directly opposite us, and I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Jake glanced across at the three men, and said, “But, Alex, that was over twenty years ago.”

“Look at that scar, Jake. Would you forget?”

“And the two men with him?”

“KGB, so they’re above the law. They’ll have no interest in how I die, only when.”

“We must get you to the American Consulate as quickly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t make it to the front gate,” said Alex. “What’s important is for all of you to carry on as if nothing has happened. If anybody asks, tell them I’ve been held up at a meeting, or I’m visiting my uncle Kolya. Just keep stalling. I’ll let you know when I’m safe.”

“Shouldn’t we at least call the consulate and ask their advice?”

“Take another look at the three of them, Jake, and ask yourself if they’re the sort of men you’d invite to a lunch. This isn’t the time for diplomatic exchanges.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Go native. Don’t forget I was born and raised in this city. You concentrate on closing the deal. I’ll take care of myself.”

As Alex was speaking, a party of six was being shown across the restaurant to their table. The moment they passed between him and Polyakov, like a cloud blocking the sun, Alex slipped away. Jake turned and said, “Did you notice—” but he was no longer there.

Alex didn’t waste time waiting for the elevator, but headed straight for the stairs. He charged up them three at a time, constantly looking back over his shoulder. When he reached the sixth floor, he quickly unlocked the door of his room, then locked himself inside, not bothering to put out the DO NOT DISTURB sign. He tapped six numbers into the pad of the little safe in the wardrobe, opened it, and grabbed his passport and some loose change. He touched his jacket pocket to make sure his wallet, containing the rubles Miss Robbins had supplied, was still there.

When he heard voices outside in the corridor he rushed across to the window and pushed it open. As he stepped out onto the fire escape, someone began banging on his door. He climbed down the ladder, checking up and down, unsure where the danger was more likely to come from. When he reached the bottom rung, he looked up to see one of the thugs staring down at him from the window of his room.