A. Zander - Moscow City

“I’m doing everything I can. I’ve got Walker and Varndon on the their way to Almaty as we speak.”

“What makes you think he isn’t still in Russia?”

“If he was still there, it wouldn’t have taken the FSB long to find him. He stands much more chance of staying anonymous in Kazakhstan.”

“Have you got friends out there?”

“We’ve got as many friends as the Russians.”

They walked a bit further as a jogger appeared on the far side of the bridge and trotted slowly past them. Lonaghan brushed his cheek with his palm and looked at the back of his hand. “I’d like your boys to work with our people in Central Asia. I think they could be helpful. Strictly support.”

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“I’m asking you. But I’m telling you it’s in your best interests. The bosses want to take over the whole op. This will give you a bit more time.”

“Ok. But strictly support. I don’t want some goon with a buzzcut bossing my boys around as soon as they land.”

“Strictly support.”

Alpha looked up at the sky as a few spots of rain escaped from the grey clouds hovering over the city. “How scared are they up on the Hill?”

“Those in the know are banging the drum pretty loud. If the Russians get hold of that algorithm, they’re going to have more money than they know what to do with. That means more military spending, more chest beating and, most importantly for our politicians, less reason to listen to us.”

“Do they understand that a bankrupt Russia is a dangerous animal?”

“We don’t want them bankrupt John. We’ve been there before and it’s not a good situation for anyone. No, we don’t want them bankrupt, we just want to keep them honest. They have zero incentive to change things when they are swimming in money.”

“Tom, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

“Go on.”

“We got some intel in last week on the actual value of this thing. The potential returns. It’s much bigger than we initially thought.”

“How much bigger?”

“We’re talking a 200 percent return. If the Russians put 50 billion into it, they’ll walk away with 100 billion profit in the first year. Guaranteed.”

“Guaranteed?” said Lonaghan. “There’s no such thing.”

“He found the Holy Grail Tom. Their tests proved it conclusively.”

“Hell. They would hardly need to collect taxes with that on their side.”

“You’re right. It’s a licence to print money.”

“You need to find this guy John. For all our sakes. I don’t want to have to tell the President that the Kremlin has full control of the world’s most profitable hedge fund.”

Harper sniffed the flowers as he walked through Rublyovka. The high gates on the Katusev mansion were locked and two armed guards watched his approach. As he got closer, one stepped forward and demanded to know his identity.

“I’m one of Nastya’s teachers,” Harper said in English.

“Ne panimayu,” said the guard. I don’t understand.

Harper gave him a small card with his name and the name of the school and pointed to the intercom system. The guard relayed the details through to the house while his colleague patted Harper down and looked inside the bunch of flowers. There was a tense silence before the intercom buzzed and he was allowed to walk up to the house. The door was open when he got there, so he walked through into the familiar reception area.

He stood looking around, but no one came to greet him.

Without the party guests, the house had the feel of a museum. He walked slowly towards the ballroom. It seemed far larger without people. He hadn’t noticed the intricate Russian Orthodox Frescos that covered the ceiling while he was at the party. A depiction of Christ adorned with shimmering gold outlines formed the centerpiece of the domed roof. He jumped slightly as he heard footsteps coming towards him. He turned to see a plump woman with a white hat and pinafore. She had Asiatic features and her tight skin showed signs of sun damage. The wary look on her face suggested she wasn’t overly pleased to have an unknown foreigner standing in front of her.

“You are from the school?” she said in heavily accented Russian. Harper nodded and gave her the flowers. “You can’t be here for very long I’m afraid.” She led him back through to the front of the house and into a side room. Several bunches of flowers were stacked on the floor and she placed his offering alongside. As she stood up, he noticed tears rolling down her cheeks. He instinctively walked over and gave her a hug, before sitting her down on a nearby chair and holding her hand.

“He was a good man,” she said in her native Uzbek.

“He was a very good man,” Harper responded in the same language.

She looked up at him, with a shocked smile on her face. “You speak Uzbek?”

“I love to speak Uzbek,” he said. “It’s a beautiful language.”

He felt a new warmth from her as she held his arm. “Nastya is just getting out of the shower. She will be here soon. You can give the flowers directly to her if you like.”

“That would be nice. Everyone at the school is thinking of her.” Harper stood her up and gave her a tissue from his pocket to wipe the tears from her face. “It’s such an awful thing to happen. And so unexpected…”

“It all started when that damn Kazakh boy came here,” she said. “Everything was fine before that. He poisoned the fortune of this family.”

Harper’s mind focused. “You mean Seva?”

“Yes, that was his name. Seva. He was a quiet boy and never opened his mouth. I had a bad feeling about him immediately.”

“Did he come here more than once?” said Harper, trying to sound uninterested.

“No, only once. He came with his parents and that professor who stayed in the car.”

“Professor?”

“It was his university teacher or something. I told him to move the car because it was parked on the grass and he refused. He looked at me like I was some peasant.”

Harper heard footsteps coming down the stairs and picked up the flowers. Nastya Katuseva wore a purple designer tracksuit and had her hair tied up inside a towel as she stepped down to meet him.

“Look, Nastya, I know this is a difficult time,” said Harper. “But people at the school wanted to let you know we were thinking about you. I just volunteered to bring these down for you. I won’t stay. I’m sorry for your loss.”

She took the flowers and managed a weak smile. “That’s nice. Please say thank you to everyone for me. I’m going to need my English lessons for when I need to fight for my inheritance in your courts. The vultures will already be circling.”

“Vultures?”

“I have just inherited a $6 billion fortune Ryan. You think that people are going to allow this to simply become mine. In my world, sentiment does not last very long. I can handle his gold digging little wife, but there will be plenty more formidable opponents looking for their share of the spoils, I can guarantee you.”

Harper looked for some sign of grief, but struggled to find it. They both looked towards the door at the sound of raised voices coming from the entrance to the property. A large crowd of men had surrounded the security and were demanding they open the gates. One of the new arrivals suddenly lost patience and grabbed a guard by the neck, kicking his legs from underneath him and pinning him to the ground. The second guard backed off with his hands up.

“Vultures,” cried Nastya Katuseva, hitting a button on the wall to open the gate and marching off down the drive. Harper watched her remonstrating before giving up and allowing them to come up to the house. They ignored Harper as they filed into the house with boxes and headed upstairs.