Gray Shadows

Chapter Twelve

In the office next morning, Nikolai asked Pyotr Alekseevich to see the latest environmental reports. When Pyotr Alekseevich heard Nikolai’s request, his expression registered surprise with a hint of annoyance.

“Nikolai, I appreciate your interest, but what can you do with the environmental reports? The numbers show high contamination, with all the graphs and charts to support it.” Pyotr Alekseevich shook his head. “You’re a great bodyguard and an excellent security expert, but you’re not a petroleum engineer and not a chemist.”

“Just let me see them, and I’ll tell you more.”

“Fine.” Pyotr Alekseevich handed him the folder. “Just don’t ask me to explain anything. I understand about a third of this report. I’m not a chemist either.”

Nikolai opened the folder and compared the numbers and the graphs to the information he downloaded from the Exxon Valdez oil spill report. And he saw exactly what he had expected to see after talking to Viktor.

“Pyotr Alekseevich, you have to look at this.”

With obvious reluctance, Pyotr Alekseevich got up and walked over to the desk where Nikolai spread out all the information.

“Exxon Valdez? What does that have to do with us? That spill happened a few years ago in Alaska,” Pyotr Alekseevich said.

“Take a closer look,” Nikolai said.

Pyotr Alekseevich leaned over the table and started looking at the charts and graphs.

“This is our data. And this one is from Exxon’s spill,” Nikolai said. “Compare them.”

Pyotr Alekseevich studied both documents carefully for a few minutes, then looked up at Nikolai. “They are identical. Very odd. How could this be? You aren’t telling me that their oil got into our river? That’s impossible.”

“No, that’s not it,” Nikolai said, letting Pyotr Alekseevich process this information.

“So, it’s some mistake?” Pyotr Alekseevich said.

“It’s no mistake. I don’t think MENDAX did any testing. They got the numbers and graphs from the Exxon Valdez report and sent them to you,” Nikolai said.

Pyotr Alekseevich looked straight at Nikolai. “But why would they do such a thing?”

“Do you know who owns MENDAX?” Nikolai said.

“No, but it sounds like you do, and it means something. Just tell me.”

“MENDAX is owned by a large conglomerate company, and Denis Fedorovich Petrenko is on the board of that company.”

“Denis is? The brother-in-law of the old director?” Pyotr Alekseevich’s expression registered amazement and disbelief. “I knew that they owned Luna Oil, but I thought that their other business was toy stores and other retail stuff.”

“They have that, too. But they also own MENDAX.”

“Let me see those results again,” Pyotr Alekseevich said and pulled the graphs closer. For a few moments, he inspected the graphs quietly, then he pushed them aside and looked at Nikolai. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Nikolai nodded. “I’m pretty sure. MENDAX wanted to make it look like there was a major leak so that the company got in more trouble with the government, on top of the unpaid taxes. So, they copied the Exxon data, changed the labels, and sent it to you just before the board meeting.”

“And a copy to the government, of course, providing another reason to sell the company,” Pyotr Alekseevich added. “Nikolai, I’m impressed. How did you figure it out?”

“I had some help,” Nikolai said. “Viktor, the computer guy who works for Centurion, poked around and found some of these graphs on Luna Oil computers. Somebody there is very interested in bringing your company down. And now we know who.”

Pyotr Alekseevich nodded. “I expected a lot of things from Denis, but I certainly did not expect this. I didn’t think he would go that far to destroy my company.”

“What are you going to do now?” Nikolai said.

“Order an independent environmental evaluation,” Pyotr Alekseevich said and reached for his phone.

Nikolai left Pyotr Alekseevich to deal with the environmental evaluation and focused on the next, and the main, challenge. And that was the board meeting itself.

Nikolai and Vanya had practiced the routine enough to perform it with the utmost precision, and they predicted, calculated, and worked out their actions in all possible circumstances: a trip to the airport in an armored car, a special permission to drive the car onto the airfield, a quick and uneventful transition of the two board members from the airplane to the car, and a safe journey back to the compound.

From his training, Nikolai knew that entering and exiting cars and buildings, and other transitional movements were the most dangerous for the clients and their bodyguards. So, when the car left the airport and turned onto the main road leading to Upper Luzinsk, the two board members and their luggage safely inside, Nikolai breathed a sigh of relief. Next stop was the compound, and the situation there would be much easier to control.

Vanya was driving, so Nikolai leaned back in the front passenger seat next to him and watched the bleak landscape roll by: the tall mounds of snow, the dwarf trees, and the low darkening sky. Vanya tuned the radio to a classical music station and turned the volume to low.

Even after staying in Upper Luzinsk for the last few weeks, Nikolai could not get used to this strange place, so isolated, so cold, and so different from the big city that he was used to. He peeked into the visor mirror at their distinguished passengers, curious about their reaction to Upper Luzinsk. Neither of them seemed to be paying attention to the outside world. The woman, a slim redhead in fashionable glasses and wearing lots of fur, was busy with her phone. She reminded him of Olga: good-looking, elegant, and always busy.

Nikolai glanced at the man. In contrast to the woman, he was dressed quite plainly, in jeans and a thick parka. He, too, was busy. But not with the phone. The man was leafing through a thick stack of papers he put on his lap on top of his briefcase. One of those papers was probably that document to be signed in the next few days, the document that was causing all this hectic activity and Nikolai’s agency’s protection.

They had just passed a small intersection with a narrow road leading to a fishing village when Nikolai noticed a pair of lonely headlights shining into their car from behind. The headlights were approaching quickly.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” muttered Vanya and slowed down allowing the vehicle to pass, but it showed no such intention.

“Speed up then,” Nikolai said. “We don’t want them trailing us.”

The vehicle was behaving strangely, mirroring Vanya’s actions: when Vanya slowed down, so did the car behind them, and when Vanya accelerated, the other car did, too. The bright headlights made it difficult to discern what kind of car it was, but from its boxy silhouette and relatively small size, Nikolai was pretty sure it was a Soviet-made Lada, a run-of-the-mill inexpensive vehicle.

“Should we be worried about this?” Vanya said.

“I don’t know yet,” Nikolai said and checked his gun. “Lock the doors,” he quietly said to Vanya.

Their two passengers seemed oblivious to the unfolding events, and Nikolai decided not to say anything to them. No need to worry them. At least not yet.

Vanya slowed down once more, and the old Lada started passing on the left. Hugging the snowy curb, Vanya slowed down, too.

“Just an erratic driver, probably,” Vanya said as the Lada got ahead of them.

The Lada accelerated, moved into the center of the lane in front of them and rapidly slowed down, coming to a full stop in front of them. Vanya slammed on the brakes, forcing everyone in the car to lurch forward. Nikolai heard a loud thump, the screeching of metal hitting metal, and the screaming of their two passengers, all of it seemed to be happening at once. Their car skidded to a stop, and Nikolai turned to check on the passengers: they were frightened but not hurt.

“What is going on?” the redhead said. “Are you not paying attention to the road? Do something!” the redhead said to Nikolai.

“I will when I need to,” Nikolai said, trying to calculate what could happen next. The damage to both cars was obvious: Lada’s rear was mangled, and so was the front of their car.

Two men came out of the Lada. They were both young, probably in their mid-twenties, and both dressed in bulky coats that could, and probably did, conceal weapons. One was tall and athletic-looking, with broad shoulders and muscular legs. The other was shorter, with most of his strength located in his upper body, with smaller legs. Guys who favored push-ups over squats tended to look like that.

The two men approached their car.

“What do they want?” the redhead said.

“Money,” her colleague said. “They pulled in front of us on purpose.”

“How do you know? You weren’t even looking,” the redhead said. “And what money do they want? Why?”

“Standard maneuver of thugs and extortionists,” the man said. “And the car is old, so it figures they want money.”

“What do you think?” the redhead asked Nikolai.

“I agree,” Nikolai said and turned to Vanya. “It’s best if we give them money. To pay for the damage.”

“Are you crazy?” Vanya said. “I’m not giving them any money. That’s the only reason they did what they did. I’ll show them!”

Vanya stepped out of the car, slammed the door shut behind him, and started arguing with the two guys. Nikolai could not make out the words but the tension and anger were obvious. Still in his seat, Nikolai slipped his gun out of its holster and cocked it.

“Do something!” the redhead said again.

“They could kill Vanya!” the man said. “Help him!”

“My job is to protect the two of you,” Nikolai responded. “And right now, there is no immediate danger to either of you. And not even to Vanya.”

“What?” the redhead said. “That’s callous! He needs help! They’ll kill him!”

The taller of the two men came up to the car on the driver’s side and pulled on the handle. The shorter one was still arguing with Vanya.

Nikolai got out of the car from the passenger’s side and took a small step towards the front of the car so that the young man’s hands were in Nikolai’s sight. “Step away from the car!” Nikolai said loudly, keeping his eyes on the man’s hands: his left hand was still on the door handle, and he used his right hand to support himself on the body of the car. There were no weapons in the young man’s hands. In contrast to Nikolai, the young man kept his gaze straight on Nikolai’s face, not even trying to see what Nikolai’s hands were doing. That indicated to Nikolai that the man was an amateur. You couldn’t kill with your face.

“Step away from the car,” Nikolai repeated.

“And what if I don’t?” the young man said, his tone menacing.

Nikolai raised his hand, with his Makarov pistol in it, straight up in the air and fired a shot.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” the young man screamed, his expression quickly going from confident to panicked. “Are you crazy?” He backed away from the car.

The shorter man was no longer focused on Vanya. He was watching Nikolai from a distance.

“Hands in the air! Both of you!” Nikolai said, pointing the gun to the shorter man and motioning for the two of them to come closer to each other. “Now! Or the next shot will be at you.”

Fear obvious on their faces, both young men raised their hands in the air.

“Face down on the ground!” Nikolai ordered. “Count to one hundred. Loudly and slowly. And don’t get up until you’re done.”

The two men dropped to the ground. “He’s a psycho,” muttered the shorter one and started counting.

“Vanya, get their key,” Nikolai said, still pointing the gun to the two men now lying face down on the snow. Vanya reached into the Lada, took the key out of the ignition and threw it far into a snowdrift.

“Now get in the car,” Nikolai said.

Vanya opened the driver’s door and got in. Nikolai sat down next to him.

“Let’s go,” Nikolai said.

Vanya started the ignition, and they sped off towards the compound, leaving the mangled Lada and the two men behind.

“What was that all about?” the redhead asked.

“Money,” Nikolai said. “It’s racket. They take an old car, create an accident with a nicer car, and demand money for repairs. Much more than needed. Then, they repair the car themselves and use the money as they wish.”

“What do the police here do about it?” the man asked Vanya.

“The police? Best case scenario, they do nothing. Or else, they are part of the scam.”

“That’s what I thought. Things are the same everywhere,” the man said.

The next two days went by quietly and uneventfully, exactly the way Nikolai had planned. Finally, Nikolai felt that all the work that he and Vanya had put in was paying off. Of course, their job was far from over as they were constantly monitoring everyone’s movements.

In the day time, they focused their efforts on Pyotr Alekseevich’s building and the conference room, and at night they put extra security in and around the hotel where the board members and Pyotr Alekseevich were staying. After the incident on the road, it did not take a lot of convincing to get Pyotr Alekseevich to move from his apartment into the hotel for the duration of the board meeting.

Meal times were the most challenging. As Nikolai knew well from his experiences and training, the clients were the most vulnerable when they were moving around. And the two board members insisted on walking to the restaurant from the building despite Nikolai’s and Vanya’s warnings that it may be dangerous.

The redhead was especially adamant about being able to walk. “It’s bad enough to be confined to this compound and have you two as constant company,” she said to Vanya and Nikolai. “I don’t want to have any more restrictions. I’m beginning to feel like I’m the criminal being guarded, not a client being protected. If something happens, so be it.”

Vanya was about to argue, but Nikolai stopped him. “Arguing won’t win us any favors. She’s stubborn, and she will only make our job difficult if we try to fight her. It’s a short walk, so let’s just offer some extra protection.”

It was not the best turn of events, but at least Upper Luzinsk was not a big city populated with many people and crowded with hard-to-control objects. Since most of the movement of the board members was inside the compound, Nikolai was confident that the situation was under control. Still, confident did not mean sloppy or careless, so he made sure that everyone, including Nikolai himself, stayed vigilant.

Finally, it was after lunch on the last day of meetings. The final documents were supposed to be signed that afternoon. After that, the board members were going back to Moscow, and so was Nikolai. Andrei was scheduled to stay as long as Natalya, and especially her dad, wanted him to stay.

Nikolai walked Pyotr Alekseevich to the conference room after lunch and returned to the security office. He was hungry and looked forward to eating lunch he brought from the restaurant for Vanya and himself. He had just put in the bowl with the chicken and mashed potatoes into the microwave when the door to the office opened.

Pyotr Alekseevich stuck his head inside. His parka was open, and Nikolai saw that the director was wearing a business suit, his white shirt starched to perfection, and his blue tie accentuating his triumphant smile. “I’ll owe you guys some champagne later today. We’re almost done. I’m going to my office right now to get one more paper that Natalya is translating, and that’s it. We’ll be signing right afterwards and having a celebration tonight. You two are definitely invited.”

“I’m coming with you,” Nikolai said.

“No need. Andrei is with me.” Pyotr Alekseevich smiled again and closed the door.

The microwave dinged. Nikolai took out the bowl of steaming chicken and mashed potatoes and put it on the table, next to the plates and silverware.

“That’s a relief.” Vanya put some of the food on his plate and pushed the bowl towards Nikolai. “I guess all our activity scared off the bad guys. You’re younger than me, Nikolai, but I have to tell you I learned a lot from you. And I even started to like you.”

“Thanks, Vanya. Me, too.” Nikolai took a bite of his food.

“So, are you heading back tomorrow?”

“Yes, on the morning charter flight, with everyone else. If you ever want to come visit, please do. You can stay with me. It looks like I’ll have my apartment all to myself, so there’s plenty of room. Have you ever been to Moscow?”

“Just once, years ago, and under pretty strange circumstances.”

“How’s that?” Nikolai said.

“My wife and I went one summer. We planned to do some sightseeing, you know, the Kremlin, the Red Square, the museums. She likes to read about the tsars and wanted to see all the historical places. So, we picked August one year, and when we arrived, we landed in the middle of all that chaos.” Vanya shook his head. “Unbelievable. The one time we went to visit, and there was that coup. We didn’t know if we were going to get out alive. So much for museums. I don’t want to go there again.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Come on, Vanya. That was a long time ago. We don’t have coups and revolutions every summer. You can come again. Moscow is very different now. More glamorous, cleaner, and nicer. Lots of things to see.”

“If I have you as a tour guide and a bodyguard, I just might.” Vanya smiled.

“It would be my pleasure.”

As Nikolai thought back to the coup, Natalya’s words came to his mind.

I was little but I remember how happy my parents were when the soldiers and all the tanks sent to the Parliament disobeyed their military orders…

My mom always told me that it was the deciding factor in the outcome of the coup…

We were all cheering and eating ice-cream…

But Natalya’s mom died when Natalya was too young to discuss politics.

“Vanya, what year was the coup? It was 1991, wasn’t it?” Nikolai put down his fork as a sudden thought produced a wave of cold sweat.

“It sure was,” Vanya said without looking up, his attention still on his lunch.

“That’s more than twenty years ago.”

“Unbelievable,” Vanya said. “Time goes by so quickly.”

“Vanya, there is no way Natalya could remember anything about that coup. She was much too young, so she couldn’t have been there. She wasn’t there.” Nikolai was standing now, checking his holster.

Vanya looked at him with confusion. “What has that got to do with Natalya?”

“She’s our murderer. Alert all posts. I’m going to Pyotr’s office.” Nikolai jumped up and rushed out of the security office.