Description: Chapter Header 20 |

Pechatniki Pre-trial Detention Center
Moscow, Russia

 

Minkin smiled as Svetlana stepped into the room, but did nothing as the guard who had shown her in let his eyes roam her incredible body for a few seconds before finally closing the door.

And she burst into tears the moment the lock clicked.

“Oh, darling, what a horrible place! I can’t stand that you’re in here!”

He wrapped his arms around her, the little blue pill already doing its job as he was determined to get every moment of pleasure he could out of her two-hour visit.

And he had no time to waste on tears.

He was well over twice her age, and though he did care for her, perhaps even deeply, she could be replaced at the drop of a hat, though not so easily from within the confines of these walls. But if Boykov came through, then his days behind bars might be numbered, and once freed, he’d disappear and live off the massive sums he had stashed around the world.

The Russian government would never find him, nor would that insane bitch who had tried to kill him.

But her uncle?

Cheslav Aristov was rich, though nowhere near as rich as he was. He was well-connected, and a member of the Duma. He had never met the man, and only knew him through reputation. He was someone you didn’t want to disappoint, which was the only reason why he had agreed to steal the Novichok and deliver it to his niece.

It had been an idiotic move. Though no one had said anything yet, he knew that was why he had been arrested. From what his lawyers had gathered, the theft had been detected immediately, and they had tracked the courier to see where he was delivering it.

Straight into the Minkin Holdings building.

The raid had been quickly coordinated, executed, and thanks to his quick thinking in sending the woman down his private elevator, they were going apeshit trying to find it before it was too late.

And it was too late.

Apparently, she had used it on her target in London, the news reports now suggesting the target was former KGB. Minkin didn’t recognize the photos, yet he must have somehow been involved in the assassination plot, since the woman had said that’s who she wanted to kill. Yet he had been in the room, and was certain that man wasn’t, though he couldn’t be sure. There were no names used that day during the briefing, and faces changed a lot over thirty years, though surely he’d recognize the man. He had recognized Boykov, after all.

Then again, he barely recognized himself in the mirror anymore, his wrinkled, weathered face no longer what it once was in 1988.

“I have good news.”

He began undressing Svetlana between the tears and sniffles, his need about to become painful if it wasn’t satisfied. “What’s that?”

“A man from your insurance company came to see me today.”

He paused. “My insurance company?”

“I think that’s what he said. I’m sorry, I had a little bit to drink. I’ve been so depressed.”

He resumed unbuttoning her outfit. “What did he want?”

“He was asking me questions about the day you were arrested.”

He paused again. “And you answered them?”

“Of course! He said he needed to know what happened so they could prepare your defense.”

“I thought you said he was from an insurance company.” He mauled her breasts, finally freed, her response muffled.

“He said they’d be supplying the lawyers if they thought you were innocent.”

He came up for air. “Of course I’m innocent. You told him that, right?”

She moaned. “Of course.” She grabbed him by both sides of his head, pushing him away as she stared down at him. “But you have to answer two questions he had. I promised him.”

He pushed her onto the bed and began removing her shoes as she hiked her skirt down. “What questions?”

“What was the name of the woman you were meeting with?”

He paused. It was a reasonable question, though why his insurance company was asking questions a lawyer should be, he wasn’t sure. He forced himself to stop.

Insurance company?

He wasn’t thinking straight. He was so horny, so preoccupied, that he was barely listening to what she was saying. He reached down and tore her pantyhose open where it counted. “I have to have you. Now!” He dropped his pants and underwear in one swift move, Little Minkin waving hello.

“What was her name?”

“I don’t know.” He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I was never told her name, and she never said it. I didn’t want to know.”

“Then how did you meet her? I mean, who set up the meeting?”

He groaned as he finally got what he wanted. “Her uncle set it up.”

She grabbed onto him, pulling him closer. “What’s his name?”

“I don’t give a shit right now!”

“I need to know. I have to tell him the name.”

He couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to, but whoever this asshole insurance guy was, he was ruining what should be a fantastic time with the best lay he had ever had. He growled as he flipped onto his back, letting her do the work.

“What’s. His. Name?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He moaned. “I can’t tell you.”

“Please, darling, I want to help!” She cried out, and he couldn’t care less if she were faking.

“I’ll tell him myself when I get out of here.”

He cursed.

I shouldn’t have said that. This moron is liable to tell everyone.

She stopped, staring down at him with a big smile. “You’re getting out?”

He shoved up with his hips, urging her to continue. “I mean, when I win my court case.”

She resumed, and he sighed with relief. “Oh, it sounded like it might be soon.”

“Hopefully.” She opened her mouth to ask yet another distracting question and he reached up, clamping a hand over her mouth. “No more questions. Just sex.”

She nodded, her reply muffled, and he didn’t care.

He just wanted to forget his troubles for now, and worry later about who the hell this insurance company rep was, and why he was asking questions he shouldn’t be.

Yet as he continued writhing underneath the spectacular beauty that was Svetlana, he couldn’t help but wonder who the man was. His questions suggested he was trying to find out who he had given the Novichok to, so he couldn’t have been sent by the woman or by her uncle, Cheslav Aristov. And if the woman was targeting those involved in the assassination plot in 1988, then this man couldn’t be involved in that either, otherwise he wouldn’t ask who she was.

He growled in frustration.

She stopped. “What is it?”

“It’s this man. He’s distracting me. Are you seeing him again?”

“Yes, tonight. I’m supposed to give him the answers to his questions.”

“Tell him I’ll meet with him as soon as I’m out of here.”

“But he needs the answers to help you in court. If he doesn’t have them, then he can’t help you, so you might be found guilty.”

He frowned.

She’s smarter than she looks.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, so long as you promise to not say another word the entire time you’re here.”

She nodded.

“I’ll be out of here before I set foot in any courtroom.” He grabbed her hips. “Now get back to work.”