Poseidon's Ransom

Chapter Twenty One

It was a little before 11am, when his smartphone startled Jack awake. ‘Mathew?’

‘Jack, hi. Were you sleeping?’

‘Yeah, but it’s okay. Whatsup?’

‘There’s been a development. Sir Anthony Grainger was shot.’

‘Jesus, is he okay?’

‘No. He’s dead, Jack. But not from his wounds.’

‘What?’

‘He was shot while out jogging. A couple of kids on a moped. But he survived. He was in intensive care. Then someone walked in this morning and killed him.’

‘So, the moped shooters were not random. It was a hit.’

Certainly looks like it and, since they botched it, whoever wanted Grainger dead came back, or sent someone, to finish the job.’

‘Right. But again, why?’

‘We don’t know yet but, it may well be related to Poseidon.’

‘The hospital will have CCTV. Is there any sight of this morning’s killer?’

‘Special Branch are going through the tapes. Soon as they have something they’ll send it over to us.’

‘Okay. Send anything you get to my phone. Anything else, Matt?’

‘Yes. The bruising on his cheeks and mouth indicate suffocation.’

‘Nasty way for the old boy to go.’

‘But it may give us a break. We may be able to pull some DNA.’

‘Okay, good. Let me know if anything comes up from that.’

The house phone rang.

‘Matt I gotta go. Talk soon.’

‘Okay, Take care, Jack.’

He reached over and picked up the house phone. ‘Hello?’

‘Good morning, sir, this is reception. There is a Mr Mikhail Gorbachev to see you.’

Jack smiled. ‘Please ask him to come up.’

‘Certainly, sir, Thank you.’

A few minutes later, a hefty knock on the door made Jack smile again. He opened the door and said to the big man in front of him, ‘Mikhail Gorbachev? Really?’

The big man grinned, then bear-hugged Jack. ‘Is good to see you again, boss.’

After being released from the crushing hug, Jack said, ‘Bogdan Markov. My old friend. It’s great to see you too, buddy.’

Bogdan Markov was almost sixty, a big man with a cheerful face that belied his tough character. In his younger days he’d been a helicopter pilot with the Spetznaz, the Russian Special Forces. Jack Castle first met him in Kosovo after he’d left the Soviet military. Bogdan was working as a mercenary and had managed to secure himself a lucrative contract as a mountain guide working for the United Nations. Markov had joined Jack’s team for a covert mission on the Kosovo border, that resulted in the neutralisation of a particularly nasty Armenian warlord. It was on that mission a mutual respect and lasting friendship had developed. Jack had last seen Bogdan over two year ago, when they’d worked together on the Beirut Shahadi operation. Now and for the last few years, his old friend had been working on the fringes of the Moscow Mafia. Bogdan also owned and operated a very trendy and exclusive night club in Moscow’s Metropolitan Hotel.

‘So, boss. What’s the deal?’

Jack smiled. ‘What? No small talk? No chit-chat?’

The Russian laughed out loud. ‘Da. You English, always love the chit-chat.’

Jack smiled again. ‘How’s your brother, Grigory?’

‘Da. He is very well. His restaurant does good business now with many rich Russians.’

‘And you, my friend. You are well? Business is good? The club is good?’

‘Da, da. All is good, boss. I have two clubs now, thanks to you.’

‘Me?’ How’s that?’

‘The last job we work together. That bastard Vinni Shahadi. The five million dollars you give me. I buy second club.’

Jack nodded. ‘Well, it wasn’t strictly me who gave it, my friend. It was Shahadi’s money.’

‘Da. But this bastard is now dead. So fuck him.’

They both laughed.

‘Okay boss. So, we talk now about the job now?’

Jack smiled. ‘Da, Bogdan. We talk about the job now.’

Jack didn’t mention the hi-jacking of Poseidon to Bogdan. Not because he didn’t trust him, simply because he knew his old friend. The Russian liked a drink and there may well come a time, with a litre of vodka under his belt, that the big man could inadvertently blurt it out to someone. As far as Bogdan was concerned a person, or persons, yet unknown had kidnapped British citizens and a ransom had been paid. The job was to find the perpetrators and, if possible, the money.

‘B’lyaad,’ said Bogdan. ‘Who did they kidnap for such money? It was the Queen, da?’

Jack laughed at the Russian profanity and the thought HRH ever being kidnapped. No, my friend, not her majesty. Who it was doesn’t matter now. The people behind all this are who we’re after.’

Bogdan winked. ‘And the money too, boss.’

‘If we find the money it’ll have to be returned to the British Government, buddy. But don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be a very handsome reward.’

The Russian grinned. ‘Okay, if there is money for Bogdan, I will be happy. If no money for Bogdan, is niet problem. I am happy to be with you, my friend. We will have some fun for sure. Da?’

Jack stood up, slapped the big man on the back, and said, ‘Right. Let’s go see this bloody banker.’