Shrek grabbed the keys from the top of the driver’s-side tyre and unlocked the side door to the Georgian Water and Power van parked in the industrial wasteland south of Tbilisi. He and Jim Valley climbed in, slid the door shut behind them and found the overalls and caps waiting where the Company’s local asset had promised they’d be.
They dressed quickly and Jim checked his watch. ‘Fifty-four minutes until go.’
‘Let’s hope Lotus is still in one piece,’ said Shrek.
He’d been concerned about Jim Valley’s connection to the disgraced Philippe Manerie, but he had to admit that the OT was an efficient professional and it was never a bad thing to work with someone of his size and experience with violence.
They’d spent the previous day and night shifting Lotus around Tbilisi, and now they had him in a serviced apartment, chosen for its underground parking garage. Jéjé was guarding the Company’s asset, but the team had gained the attention of a carload of heavies whose vehicle was owned by a Monaco shell, a typical FSB set-up. Now they needed a way to extract Lotus from the heart of Tbilisi before the FSB could grab him.
They drove across the Georgian capital on the east side of the Kura River as dawn illuminated the spires and rooks of the city. The traffic was light compared to Paris’s morning rush hour, and Shrek swung the van onto a main arterial road. After three minutes driving towards the massive reservoir that watered the city, he turned right into the wealthier suburbs.
They slowed as they approached the apartment block; unlike apartment blocks in Paris and London, that were built right to the footpath, Tbilisi’s residential buildings usually had a street-fronting parking area and an apron to the main doors. They pulled into their safe house address, and Shrek drove towards the underground entrance, passing a black Chevrolet SUV sitting squarely in the middle of the parking zone. Two powerfully built men sat in the front seats of the SUV, pointedly looking up at the second-floor windows where they assumed Lotus was hiding. Shrek could sense Jim shifting his weight, alert to the danger in the Chevrolet but not intimidated.
Shrek made a show of stopping beside the tradesmen’s ringer and pushed a button. From inside the building Jéjé released the door to the underground and the vehicle door folded upwards on itself. Shrek and Jim drove into the underground, Jim pulling his CZ 9mm pistol from under the seat. They paused just inside the entry, waiting to see if the FSB thugs were going to follow them into the parking garage.
‘I guess they bought it,’ said Shrek, staring in the van’s side mirror.
The door unfolded itself to the ground, and they drove to the elevator station in the centre of the garage. Shrek left Jim in the van and walked to the stairwell, making his way up the four flights of stairs to the second floor. He was panting by the time he reached the safe house door—not from exertion but from adrenaline. He, Jéjé and Jim had spent twenty-four hours staying one step ahead of the FSB agents and he was ready for action.
He knocked three times and Jéjé opened quickly, his own handgun held at his side. ‘How we looking?’
‘Clear, for now,’ said Shrek, entering the apartment. In front of him was a rolling view of modern and old rooftops, punctuated by trees, that descended slowly to the river. Standing in the living room was the man they called Lotus: freshly showered, but grubby nonetheless.
‘You ready?’ asked Shrek.
Lotus shrugged. ‘Maybe I should ask you the same question?’
Shrek ignored him. ‘We have his bag?’ he asked Jéjé.
‘Here,’ said Jéjé, picking up a cabin bag from a small breakfast table.
Shrek grabbed Lotus’s jacket, pushed aside the lapels, and shoved his hands inside the Georgian’s turquoise silk shirt to check that the ballistic vest was properly secured.
‘Hey, watch it,’ said Lotus, twisting away from Shrek’s hands.
Shrek smiled. ‘Don’t get all coy. Keeping you alive is my job.’
Jéjé checked his pistol and walked to the door, which he cracked slightly. ‘We’re clear,’ he murmured and pulled the door fully open.
Shrek grabbed a handful of Lotus’s jacket at the waist with his left hand and unholstered his handgun with his right hand. Then he walked Lotus to the door, peered out, and tucked Lotus in behind Jéjé as they made a caterpillar to the stairwell. Their rasped breathing echoed as they made their way down the first flight of stairs. A door creaked open and then slammed shut, making the three of them jump.
‘Resident,’ said Jéjé softly as he raised his hand to pause their progress.
They listened to scuffed shoes on concrete and then the basement door squeaked and slammed shut.
They moved again, slowly but smoothly, Jéjé leading and Shrek moving Lotus where he wanted him using his hold on the man’s jacket.
They reached the basement door and Shrek holstered his handgun under his left armpit. Jéjé pulled Lotus back so he couldn’t be seen. They paused for half a minute, listening intently. A car started in the garage and moved past the door. Shrek wanted to keep moving. He said to Jéjé, ‘Keep him here, I’ll call when it’s clear.’
Shrek pulled the door and stepped into the underground garage where there were three men: Jim leaning on the hood of the Georgian Water and Power van, with an FSB thug on either side of him. The garage door was still closing, suggesting that the Russians had slipped in when the resident in the stairwell had driven out.
Shrek saw it very quickly: the Russians were saying something in Georgian or Russian to Jim, who was smiling and trying to bluff his way through.
‘Privet, kak delat,’ said Shrek, putting on a big smile as he walked to the larger of the two heavies in a grey windbreaker.
The Russian smiled back. ‘Privet priyatel,’ he started, and Jim punched him hard in the throat, crushed his instep with a stamp-kick; he clutched the Russian’s right hand before it could grab a pistol, breaking the man’s wrist in one fast twist and downward thrust. Shrek moved straight for the second FSB guy and kicked him hard in the solar plexus, doubling him over as the Russian slumped onto his arse. Shrek pounced on him, held the Russian by the hair and drove a quick punch into the man’s left temple, knocking him out.
Jim turned back to his prey as the man started to yell with pain. He kneeled and punched the man hard in the carotid artery, rendering him unconscious. Pulling the loom of zip ties from his back pocket, Jim hog-tied the Russian in the grey windbreaker, and as he started tying the second Russian, Shrek took possession of the FSB firearms and walked them to a dumpster, where he actioned them, disassembled them and disposed of the pieces. They stripped the radio transmitters and earpieces from the FSB agents and discarded these too.
‘Come through, Jéjé,’ called Shrek to Jéjé and Lotus, as he tied off the other Russian. ‘We’re clear.’
Jéjé came through the door and they stashed Lotus in the van. Then the three of them loaded the Russians into the back of the van, since Shrek didn’t want them being found before the Frenchmen and their asset had left the country.
As they waited for the garage door to open, the tension palpable, Shrek checked his watch. ‘We could make that midday flight,’ he said.
‘No point lingering in sunny Georgia,’ said Jéjé, from the rear of the van.
They drove out into the morning sunlight, past the black Chevy SUV. Now there was a blue SUV parked beside the black one and two men standing on the apron, looking around as if they’d lost something.
Shrek and Jim both smiled and gave brief waves as they drove past the FSB men. They paused at the kerb, then pulled out and headed for the airport.