Mistress

Chapter 103

“You are nervous,” says Alexander Kutuzov. “You are shaking.”

I wish I had a good comeback. That’s what Bruce Willis would do. He’d squint and arch his eyebrows and say something icy smooth. “Icy smooth” would be a good slogan for mint gum. I wish I had some gum right now, because it calms me down. You always seem more at ease when you’re chewing gum.

“I understand the local police are pursuing you with great urgency,” Kutuzov says.

“Yeah, I’m pretty much out of friends,” I say.

“Well, you have one now.” Kutuzov turns to me. “Miss Diana, she warned me that she had stowed away the video for her reporter friend as a measure of insurance. We looked ourselves and could not find it. We knew you were looking for it, too. And so, Benjamin, you were my adversary. And I took measures to…prevent you from obtaining it.”

“‘Measures,’” I say, mimicking him. “You mean like firing machine guns at me? Are those the ‘measures’ you mean, Alex? The ones that killed my friend Ellis Burk and six other law enforcement officers?”

He pats my leg. “You are upset. I understand. And if it helps, I apologize. But we must put such matters in the past. You have won, Benjamin. You have found the video despite my efforts to stop you. For this, I congratulate you.”

Somehow, the praise doesn’t seem so sincere coming from this guy.

“So now, Benjamin, we move on to better times. I want you to be happy, my friend. Happy and wealthy. I trust you have confirmed the wire transfer to the account you specified? Twenty million dollars?”

“Yes,” I say. “It will certainly help my quest for happiness.”

“Indeed it will. You are being rewarded handsomely to keep this video confidential.”

I rub my hands together and try to sound authoritative. When I get nervous, my voice tends to go up an octave, which is pretty much the opposite of cool. “You understand what I said before, Alex. If anything happens to me, if a bullet accidentally finds its way into my skull, that video goes viral. It gets released to every media outlet in North America.”

“I do understand that,” he says. “You were very clear on the phone this morning. You are very clear now. If I kill you, the video becomes public.”

Yeah, but I wanted to say it again. It’s what will keep me alive.

“But you understand,” says Kutuzov, “that if you have second thoughts about our agreement and decide to release this video, you will die a painful death.”

I shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.” If I were chewing gum, I’d blow a bubble right now. That would look cool.

I turn toward Kutuzov, who grabs my shirt with one hand and tugs me close to him. I’ve hit a nerve with him, obviously.

“Listen to me, my little friend. Do not mistake what has happened in the past for the future. You were in hiding, and we lacked adequate time to prepare, and still you only narrowly escaped us. Those bullets that killed your friend the detective were within inches of you, yes? And never again will you have a barricade of police and Secret Service agents saving you. Had they not arrived yesterday, you would have been dead within seconds. Do not mistake what I can do.”

Kutuzov releases my shirt with a push. This, and no other reason, is why we are meeting face-to-face. Kutuzov could have wired my money with the tap of a keystroke and flown back to Russia. But he wanted to deliver this message personally. He wants me to live in mortal fear of him.

“That’s a helluva way to talk to a friend,” I manage.

Kutuzov looks me up and down. “Do you require another reminder from Victor?”

I show my palms, like stop. “No, no. You made your point.”

After a moment, Kutuzov shows me another cold smile. “Very well, then, Benjamin. If I kill you, you release the video. If you release the tape, I kill you. Mutually assured destruction, yes?”

A term from the Cold War. How appropriate.

Kutuzov claps his hands. “You have heard my warning and I trust you understand its sincerity. So now we are done. Yes?”

Kutuzov offers his hand to me. I don’t care what Victor does with his next bullet, I’m not shaking this asshole’s hand.

“No,” I say.

I just have one thing left to say to him. It’s what Robert De Niro said to Dennis Farina at the end of Midnight Run. If these are the last words I ever utter-and they might be-I might as well go out quoting one of my all-time favorites.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to say to you,” I tell Kutuzov. “You’re under arrest.”