Chapter 4 - The Russian Debt
The high-caliber round took the Russian gunman through the throat before the sound of the sniper rifle reached the room. The man collapsed backward onto Julian, spraying dark arterial blood across Julian’s tailored shirt and pale face.
Julian shrieked, scrambling backward like an insect, slipping on the slick floor tile. He scrambled toward the shattered doorway, but a third shadow materialized in the hallway.
Dmitri Kozlov stepped over the dead guard. He was a broad-shouldered man in his late fifties, his silvering beard trimmed neatly, wearing a charcoal cashmere coat draped over his shoulders. In his right hand, he carried an umbrella with a polished silver skull handle; his left hand was tucked casually into his trouser pocket.
""Julian,"" Kozlov said, his Russian accent deep and melodic, completely unbothered by the violence around him. ""You told me the old man was unarmed and the security was already neutralized. You lied to me about your father-in-law's reach.""
Julian sobbed, pressing his back against the wall, clutching his bloodstained arms. ""Dmitri... I can still get the signatures! Sarah is right there! Just hold the girl, and Victor will sign anything!""
Victor lowered his weapon slightly, though his stance remained braced. ""Kozlov. You're five miles outside your designated territory.""
Kozlov smiled faintly, tipping his head in polite deference. ""A mutual friend called me forty minutes ago, Victor. He informed me that this piece of garbage took a twenty-million-dollar loan from my subsidiary, using Vance logistics as collateral without your authorization seal.""
Victor’s eyes narrowed. ""And you came to collect?""
""I came to clean up an administrative error,"" Kozlov replied smoothly. He gestured with his silver-tipped umbrella toward Julian. ""A man who tries to murder his pregnant wife to cover a gambling debt is not a businessman, Victor. He is a dog with rabies. In Moscow, we do not partner with dogs. We put them down.""
Julian’s eyes rolled back in terror. ""No—no, wait! Evelyn has the accounts! My mother has the offshore keys!""
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Kozlov didn't look back at him. He pulled a gold cigarette case from his pocket, snapping it open. ""Your mother was picked up at JFK forty minutes ago by Victor’s associates, Julian. She had four passports and three million in bearer bonds. She was boarding a flight to Zurich without you.""
Julian froze, the breath leaving him entirely as Sarah let out a soft, bitter laugh from behind the cabinet.
