Outside Pechatniki Pre-trial Detention Center Moscow, Russia
Boykov tapped Moriz Grekov on the shoulder, startling the old guard. The man smiled, few words having been exchanged after the arranged meeting between “brothers.”
“So, did it go well?”
Boykov grinned. “Very well. So well, in fact, that we must talk privately, now.”
Grekov scratched his chin. “I was going to grab a drink if you want to join me.”
Boykov shook his head. “No, nobody can hear what I have to say. It’s about my brother’s generosity, if you know what I mean.”
Grekov’s face lit up. “My place?”
“No, my hotel is very close. Let’s head over there. I’ve got a few bottles of vodka on ice waiting for us.”
The smile broadened, and they were soon into the first bottle in one of the nastier hotel rooms in the city. Grekov drained his shot and slammed the glass onto the table.
“So, tell me, did you and your brother reconcile?”
Boykov nodded, finishing his own drink. “We did. He was far more understanding than I had expected, and we were able to say our goodbyes. I do hope to see him again soon, though I know I can’t expect you to be sneaking me in again.”
“Perhaps if you come to visit him formally, he’ll let you.”
Boykov shook his head. “No, he expressly forbade it. He’s concerned that if the authorities find out he has a long lost brother, they’ll use me to get to him.”
Grekov frowned, pouring them two more. “That’s a good point. I hadn’t thought of that. I wouldn’t put anything past those bastards.”
“Me neither.” Boykov took a sip of his drink. “Which is why I’m going to ask you for one final favor.”
Grekov paused. “Umm, I don’t know.”
Boykov’s eyes shot wide for show. “Oh, I almost forgot in all the excitement!” He grabbed a laptop off the bed and flipped it open, tapping a few keys. “I told you my brother was a generous man.” He flipped the screen around so Grekov could see the balance on the account set up earlier that day for the soon to be retired guard.
Grekov dropped his glass, thankfully only on the tabletop. “What, umm, what am I looking at?”
“Half a million Euros, in an account in Geneva under your name.” He slipped an envelope across the table containing the account information and a bank card, Minkin’s people true to their word and efficient.
Grekov’s cheeks paled and he gripped the arms of the chair as he struggled to not faint. “Are-are you serious?”
Boykov grinned. “Yup. It’s all yours. Half a million Euros.” He tapped the envelope. “Everything you need to access it is in there.” He leaned forward. “And I can double that if you want.”
Grekov tore his eyes away from the screen. “Double?”
“Yes. All I need to know is when my brother is being taken to the courthouse. I know it’s a little risky, but I’ll just sit in the back of the court so I can see him again.” He sighed. “I haven’t been feeling well today. I think I’ve been running on hope, just trying to see my brother and patch things up with him, and now that I have, my body knows it’s time to let go. To give up.”
Grekov frowned. “You shouldn’t think like that. Surely your brother can help? Get you the best doctors?”
Boykov shook his head. “No, my time is up, but I would love to see my brother just one more time, to be there to support him, you know? If he just saw me in the courthouse, he’d know I meant everything I said today.”
Grekov’s head bobbed slowly, his eyes drifting back to the balance on the laptop. “Double?”
“Double. I just need to know what time he’s leaving for the courthouse so I have enough time to get there before him.”
Grekov sucked in a deep breath then nodded. “They briefed us just before I left. Ten tomorrow morning.”