down.
She twisted in his grasp and flipped over on her back to kick at him with her free leg, but he was too strong and too fast and was soon on top of her, grabbing at her flailing arms. Cassie clawed at his face, and her fingers closed on his ski mask and ripped it from his head. The man stopped, as if shocked, and then his face flushed red.
He drew back his arm, and Cassie felt his fist explode against her face.
***
The cook was still bellowing when Nazarov returned to the kitchen, his mask back in place and the girl over his shoulder. The cook’s cry died on her lips at the sight of the girl.
“Cassie!” she said, her eyes on the girl as Nazarov lowered the girl to the floor and began to tape her hands and feet.
Yuri took advantage of the cook’s momentary distraction to grab her right wrist, and with the threat of the knife neutralized, Anatoli and Dimitri closed in. They subdued her quickly, physically but not verbally, for she continued to scream abuse until they got tape over her mouth. Seconds later, she was trussed up on the floor beside the Kairouz woman.
“What now?” Yuri asked.
“Put those two in the pantry, out of sight,” Nazarov said, nodding toward the Kairouz woman and the cook. “And tape Tanya up and carry her to the van.”
He looked around at the blood on the floor.
“And get some tape on Anatoli’s hand so he’s not bleeding all over the place and then clean up this blood. Use some bleach; there must be some around here somewhere.”
“What about her?” Yuri nodded at the blond girl they’d called Cassie.
Nazarov thought for a moment. Arsov had been clear; no one was to see their faces. He shook his head. “She saw my face. We’ll take her with us.”
Chapter Eight
Club Pyatnitsa
London, UK
Arsov sat and drummed his fingers against his desk. He’d expected to hear from Nazarov by now, but he didn’t want to call him if he was still in the middle of the operation. The simpleton would probably find snatching Tanya challenging enough without a distraction. He comforted himself with the thought that even Nazarov couldn’t screw up such a simple mission.
His thoughts turned to his friends outside. They would expect him to move at some point, and if he just slipped away and left them sitting there, they would figure things out sooner or later. Besides, even these amateurs couldn’t be so inept as to think they could tail him in a BT van without being spotted. They must have a chase car somewhere nearby, and it would be good to smoke that out as well. Arsov punched the intercom and summoned Victor from the bar. Twenty seconds later, the bartender stuck his head into the door to find Arsov undressing.
“Yes, Boss,” Victor said, obviously confused.
“Get in here and change clothes with me,” Arsov said.
***
“We have movement,” Harry said from the driver’s seat.
“I have him.” In the back of the van, Anna watched on her monitor as a cab pulled up in front of the club. Moments later Arsov walked out the front door and climbed into the cab.
“He’s moving,” Anna said. “Call Lou and give him the plate number. The cab should pass him in the next block.”
“On it,” Harry said.
***
Arsov climbed into a cab several blocks away. His exit through the kitchen of the Italian restaurant had gone more smoothly this time, after he apologized for his earlier deception and explained to the cook that it was all really a matter of the heart. His jealous wife had hired a private investigator to watch him, making it difficult for him to slip away from his club to meet his mistress, and so he needed a way to enter and exit the club unobserved. The cook had smiled and nodded at the story, his understanding and future help assured by the gift of a hundred pounds to compensate for his ‘inconvenience.’
It was working out well. Victor had orders to have the cab drive about aimlessly for an hour or so and then to go to Arsov’s apartment and stay there. The chase
She twisted in his grasp and flipped over on her back to kick at him with her free leg, but he was too strong and too fast and was soon on top of her, grabbing at her flailing arms. Cassie clawed at his face, and her fingers closed on his ski mask and ripped it from his head. The man stopped, as if shocked, and then his face flushed red.
He drew back his arm, and Cassie felt his fist explode against her face.
***
The cook was still bellowing when Nazarov returned to the kitchen, his mask back in place and the girl over his shoulder. The cook’s cry died on her lips at the sight of the girl.
“Cassie!” she said, her eyes on the girl as Nazarov lowered the girl to the floor and began to tape her hands and feet.
Yuri took advantage of the cook’s momentary distraction to grab her right wrist, and with the threat of the knife neutralized, Anatoli and Dimitri closed in. They subdued her quickly, physically but not verbally, for she continued to scream abuse until they got tape over her mouth. Seconds later, she was trussed up on the floor beside the Kairouz woman.
“What now?” Yuri asked.
“Put those two in the pantry, out of sight,” Nazarov said, nodding toward the Kairouz woman and the cook. “And tape Tanya up and carry her to the van.”
He looked around at the blood on the floor.
“And get some tape on Anatoli’s hand so he’s not bleeding all over the place and then clean up this blood. Use some bleach; there must be some around here somewhere.”
“What about her?” Yuri nodded at the blond girl they’d called Cassie.
Nazarov thought for a moment. Arsov had been clear; no one was to see their faces. He shook his head. “She saw my face. We’ll take her with us.”
Chapter Eight
Club Pyatnitsa
London, UK
Arsov sat and drummed his fingers against his desk. He’d expected to hear from Nazarov by now, but he didn’t want to call him if he was still in the middle of the operation. The simpleton would probably find snatching Tanya challenging enough without a distraction. He comforted himself with the thought that even Nazarov couldn’t screw up such a simple mission.
His thoughts turned to his friends outside. They would expect him to move at some point, and if he just slipped away and left them sitting there, they would figure things out sooner or later. Besides, even these amateurs couldn’t be so inept as to think they could tail him in a BT van without being spotted. They must have a chase car somewhere nearby, and it would be good to smoke that out as well. Arsov punched the intercom and summoned Victor from the bar. Twenty seconds later, the bartender stuck his head into the door to find Arsov undressing.
“Yes, Boss,” Victor said, obviously confused.
“Get in here and change clothes with me,” Arsov said.
***
“We have movement,” Harry said from the driver’s seat.
“I have him.” In the back of the van, Anna watched on her monitor as a cab pulled up in front of the club. Moments later Arsov walked out the front door and climbed into the cab.
“He’s moving,” Anna said. “Call Lou and give him the plate number. The cab should pass him in the next block.”
“On it,” Harry said.
***
Arsov climbed into a cab several blocks away. His exit through the kitchen of the Italian restaurant had gone more smoothly this time, after he apologized for his earlier deception and explained to the cook that it was all really a matter of the heart. His jealous wife had hired a private investigator to watch him, making it difficult for him to slip away from his club to meet his mistress, and so he needed a way to enter and exit the club unobserved. The cook had smiled and nodded at the story, his understanding and future help assured by the gift of a hundred pounds to compensate for his ‘inconvenience.’
It was working out well. Victor had orders to have the cab drive about aimlessly for an hour or so and then to go to Arsov’s apartment and stay there. The chase
Similar Books
