Bad Luck in Berlin: An Exclusive Short Story

CHAPTER 13

It was 00.24 when Victor re-entered the casino bar. He’d used the crew’s Audi to drive away from the scene and scrubbed the blood from his hands, face and head. He’d had to discard his jacket. The phones, batteries removed, and IDs were in the Audi’s trunk along with his reloaded Five-seveN.

There were fewer people inside than had been earlier, and Anika was behind the bar, but Basayev was nowhere to be seen.

‘Go to dinner with me,’ Victor said before Anika could ask him if he wanted a drink.

‘I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.’

‘Most things in life aren’t a good idea.’

‘That’s not a reason to go.’

‘It’s also not a reason to not go.’

‘Look,’ she said in the universal let-down-gently tone, ‘you seem like a nice enough guy, but I’m just not interested in dating right now.’

He nodded. ‘Okay.’

She stepped away. Victor ran through scenarios in his head of what would need to happen next, now Anika would be leaving alone and Basayev had already left to wait for her, but stopped when he saw Basayev exit the bar’s restroom. He looked calm and relaxed and in control.

Victor said, ‘Let me buy you a drink.’

‘How very kind of you. But I’m afraid I’m about to depart.’

Victor stepped into his path. ‘This will only take a minute.’ He gestured to an empty booth.

Basayev considered for a moment, his pale green eyes unblinking as they stared at Victor. There was no change in the calm expression, no shift in the relaxed body language. Eventually, he nodded and walked over to the booth, unconcerned enough by Victor’s proximity to give him his back.

Victor sat down opposite. He rested his phone on the table before him. Basayev’s gaunt face had deep shadows beneath the cheekbones from the overhead lights. His hands were visible on the tabletop. Victor kept his own similarly visible.

Basayev said, ‘I know what you’re about to say, so this conversation is needless.’

‘Then thank you for humouring me.’

‘You have two minutes. After that I’m gone. Consider those two minutes the kind of courtesy you’ve failed to show me.’

‘I meant no disrespect.’

Basayev’s lips turned upward in a small smile. ‘Yet here we are. Our goals do not overlap. They are not in opposition. But you are attempting to interfere with mine. So, before you say whatever it is you think will cause me to deviate from my path, I propose a compromise.’

‘What sort of a compromise?’ Victor glanced in Anika’s direction. She was looking at the clock, waiting for the exact second she was allowed to leave.

‘I have invested a significant amount of money and a greater amount of time in my current task. I have done this because the return shall be substantial. Perhaps I might offer you an incentive to’ — he paused to think of the correct expression — ‘stay on the sidelines.’

‘I’m not on the clock.’

‘I’m sure there are more comely women to purchase drinks from in this city.’

‘That’s not what this is about.’

‘Then perhaps you might tell me what is behind your actions.’

Victor didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Basayev said, ‘I didn’t take you for a humanitarian.’

‘Neither did I.’

‘So is this atonement for some past wrong or failing? If so, I find that quite touching. But one should be more careful to keep your emotions in check in our line of work. Otherwise, before you know it, you won’t like what you see in the mirror.’

‘I already don’t like what I see in the mirror. But that has nothing to do with what I do for a living.’

‘If your mind is made up and money cannot tempt you then you should be aware of something. You noticed me as soon as you entered the bar, correct?’ He didn’t wait for agreement. ‘Yet you were not sure of me until you performed that ridiculous stunt with your glass.’

‘Which worked.’

‘Yes, it worked,’ Basayev agreed with a nod. ‘It was an effective trick. But in your rush to defend your actions you fail to see the greater point. I performed no trick. I needed no stunt. I had only to observe you to know you. And I did so before you had even entered the bar. I saw you at the blackjack table, maintaining your surveillance on that Hungarian and trying not to win too many hands. I knew everything about you then. Tell me, did you see me on the casino floor? Did you see me watching you? Would you have looked at me twice had I not sat alone in the corner as you would have done yourself?’

Victor remained silent.

‘I take it you understand my point.’ Basayev waited for an answer he didn’t get. ‘You still have a chance to withdraw. Don’t be foolish. Don’t let your ego convince you you are something you’re not.’

‘I’m not the one trying to persuade the other to back off.’

‘I’m explaining to you that you’re out of your depth.’

‘Maybe,’ Victor said, ‘but tonight I’m feeling lucky. What time is it?’

‘I don’t need to glance down at my watch to know the time. I don’t believe you do either.’

‘You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to take Anika back. You can walk away. I can reimburse you for your costs. You can even make a profit.’

‘When I first saw you I could see you handled yourself well. You were observant and discreet, but not quite enough of either to notice me or disguise yourself from my notice. There is no shame in that. You are still young, after all. Neither that crass Hungarian gangster or the local crew or the casino security had any idea of your motives. Had you not decided to interfere with my work you could have continued your surveillance and learned what you needed to learn to be ready for when your target arrived. If you were good you would have. If you were good you would not have allowed yourself to be in this position. And to beg for your life’ — Basayev shook his head in disgust — ‘it’s pathetic. You’ve embarrassed yourself. Have some honour. Have some self-respect. Meet your end with a little dignity. Had you stepped aside willingly I could have taught you how to spot an enemy faster and to understand your limits and to know when you’re out of your depth. And now you have learned that the line separating self-confidence and arrogance is the most dangerous of all. And now there is no going back.’

Victor said, ‘What time is it?’

Irritation found its way into Basayev’s face. ‘What does it matter what time it is? You think keeping me here talking will prevent the inevitable?’

‘I’m asking because you’ve missed the last plane to Chechnya.’

Basayev’s eyes narrowed. ‘Then you know who I am.’

‘I’ve had the Interpol highlights.’

‘Then you are even more foolish than I imagined for electing to stand in my way.’

‘Interpol know you’re in Berlin.’

Basayev laughed briefly. ‘That is a good try. And even if they did, Interpol know me by reputation only. No evidence ties me to any crime. And they do not know what I look like. I know this because my sources are just as resourceful as your own.’

‘I doubt that. Tell me, when you gun me down in a casino bar, with that pistol you somehow got past security, do you think Interpol won’t make the connection?’

‘I’m somewhat more imaginative than that. Who says how or when I’ll dispatch you? I believe that’s my prerogative. I respect your perseverance, but not your desperation. I can see what you’re doing. It is written all over your face though you are doing everything to keep it from there. You want to keep me talking. The longer we talk the more familiar the situation becomes, the more relaxed, the more comfortable. Whatever it is you hope to achieve was always destined to fail against someone like me. The line between self-confidence and arrogance. You should have paid attention to that lesson. It was never going to work.’

‘It was never meant to work,’ Victor said. ‘What time is it?’

Basayev’s face showed more irritation, but then a measure of intrigue that became concern. His lips pursed to speak, to ask why he kept being asked the same question.

Victor spoke first. ‘Interpol may not know what you look like but they’ve been informed the Chechen killer known as Basayev has spent the evening sitting in the bar of the Golden Talisman casino. And they know you’re armed. They know because I told them.’ Victor lifted up the phone he’d placed on the table. ‘Would you like to check my call log?’

A pause, then, ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘We’ve been talking for three and a half minutes. One and a half minutes longer than you declared you’d give me. Four minutes and eleven seconds have passed since I sent that message. Let’s say thirty seconds to digest the information. One minute to pass it on to the Federal Police. One minute for the tactical response unit on standby to get in their vehicles. One minute forty-one seconds left.’

Basayev smiled. ‘Not enough time for the BKA to get here, wherever their headquarters is.’

‘It’s less than two miles away.’

‘Even with lights flashing that’s at least a four-minute journey through an urban area. How long does it take to withdraw a gun and squeeze a trigger? I’ve still got two minutes and twenty seconds to kill you and walk out of here.’

‘Two minutes and eight seconds now.’

‘Plenty of time.’

‘And leave a mountain of evidence behind for them? They’ll have a corpse, a bullet, your face on the casino cameras, witness statements. You won’t be able to get out of Berlin. Your anonymity will be ruined. I take it you value your anonymity.’

‘You’re bluffing,’ Basayev said again, but quieter.

Victor held open his arms. ‘Then squeeze the trigger. One minute fifty-one seconds left.’

Basayev smiled, skin creasing around his mouth and eyes.

‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘Well played. You’ve saved your life and given that whore a respite. But now I’m going to walk straight out of here, having committed no crime. And I’ll return someday to take her back to where she belongs. Or are you going to protect her for ever?’

‘You won’t be back. Not after this. Because even with nothing on you the BKA will pull your face from the security cameras just on the strength of Interpol’s request. That picture will be passed on to anyone who needs it. The whole of Europe is about to get very difficult to travel through. And if you return to Germany you’ll be in custody the moment you step off the plane.’

Basayev’s smile widened. ‘You’re forgetting something. My face may soon be known, but now I know yours. And I’m the worst enemy you’ve ever had.’

‘I believe you.’

Basayev’s pale green eyes stared at him, unblinking and burning with rage and the promise of vengeance. ‘I’ll find you. One day. You know I will.’

Victor stared back. ‘And I’ll be waiting.’