Garry Abson - Motherland - A Gripping Crime Thriller Set in the Dark Heart of Putin's Russia

‘This one does.’

Curiously, she sensed that for once he was telling the truth. Rogov seemed to exist between two contradictory positions, unable to be one thing or the other. And it wasn’t just him, the whole country was doing it. She doubted Colonel Vasiliev’s United Russia badge was any less genuine than his old membership card for The People’s Freedom Party; Primakov was gay yet lived a life of denial as a straight man; Mikhail had wanted to be a decent ment but was compromised by corruption. As for her, she pretended to be a European liberal while bribing her way through life like everyone else. That’s what happened when old KGB men were put in charge of a country. News studios pretended propaganda was the truth. Elections pretended to be fair. Everyone pretended to be someone else, and nobody knew who they were any more.

‘What’s going on, Tasha?’ Mikhail asked, taking his seat.

‘Where’s Anton?’

‘Still at Dinara’s.’

‘He’s in danger.’

Mikhail shook himself out of his lethargy; the Ochakovo bottle in his hand forgotten. ‘What?’

‘Unless I do what they say, the FSB are going to wrap him in a uniform and present him as a gift to the Donbass People’s Militia.’

Mikhail was silent and his pupils seemed to shrink.

‘The FSB are evil bastards,’ volunteered Rogov.

She went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of Satrapezo before pouring out a generous measure into a wine glass. In the fridge she took an Ochakovo, ripping off its ring-pull and dropping it in the bin.

Her intention had been to give the beer to Mikhail but Rogov looked pathetic holding a bloody towel to his head. She placed it in front of Rogov as a gesture of goodwill and put her wine glass on the table before making an elaborate bow.

‘Now we’re all friends again,’ Mikhail said. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Can I trust you both?’

‘You can trust me and most of the time I trust Stepan.’

‘Well, if that’s the best I’ll get.’ She saw a pack of Sobranie Classics on the table and took one.

‘Still smoking?’ Mikhail arched an eyebrow.

She ignored him and leant towards Rogov’s extended lighter, keeping her hair away from his bloodstained hand.

She sucked in the smoke and exhaled heavily. ‘Zena’s real father is called Yuri Volkov; he was a gangster in the 1990s.’

Mikhail sat down and reached for his cigarettes. ‘Yeah, I saw him on the news outside some DNA clinic. He said he was a businessman but he has that look about him. They say Dahl stole Zena when she was two years old. I hope that mudak gets what he deserves.’

She frowned. ‘You know something? I don’t understand why Volkov didn’t take Zena back years ago – it makes no sense. Also, why is Thorsten even alive?’

Mikhail snorted and shook his head. ‘Volkov and Dahl can fuck themselves for all I care. Why is the FSB threatening Anton to squeeze you?’

She puffed on the Sobranie. ‘Remember I told you that Dahl gave up his company seals and documents as a ransom for Zena? Well, Volkov was behind it.’

‘That makes sense,’ said Mikhail.

‘The FSB want me to get them back.’

‘ You? ’

Rogov said it with such a pompous tone she was tempted to hit him again with the ashtray.

She had never seen Mikhail look so concerned. ‘How are you going to get the documents?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’

‘Angel, whatever you do it won’t be safe.’

Rogov’s belly rippled as he let out a sardonic laugh. ‘Now you won’t be needing it, boss, can I have that fancy wine of yours?’

Mikhail glared at him and Rogov held up his hands in surrender. ‘Only joking, she’s got balls though.’

‘They weren’t there the last time I looked. Besides, I won’t be alone.’

She smiled at Rogov. He looked even paler than usual and she wasn’t convinced it was due to blood loss.

Mikhail patted Rogov’s knee. ‘Of course we’ll help, won’t we, Stepan?’

‘If I get the documents, Volkov will come after me. I need someone to stop him.’

‘That’s me,’ offered Mikhail.

‘Thanks.’ She puffed on the Sobranie. ‘And I need to get Zena to safety.’ She turned to Rogov who didn’t react.

‘Stepan is going to kidnap Zena Dahl?’ Mikhail put a hand on his head. ‘Well, at least it won’t be a novel experience for the girl.’

‘She’s an adult. All you need to do is persuade her to go home. Thorsten is at her apartment, entertaining some FSB guests.’

‘Any idea where Zena is now?’ asked Rogov.

‘No, you need to find where Volkov lives.’

She closed her eyes and felt sleep try to overwhelm her. ‘Rogov, you remember that nice lady at the office in Sestroretsk?’

‘The sixty-year-old virgin? I told you she didn’t know anything.’

‘That’s because we didn’t have the right questions. Now we do. Zena’s real name is Ksenia Volkova, her parents are Kristina and Yuri Volkov. Whisper sweet things to the lady and check out any address she gives you. Go through births, marriages, and deaths.’

Mikhail lit up the Sobranie. ‘Deaths?’

‘Thorsten Dahl left with Zena in December 1999. Before then, he killed her mother.’

Mikhail glared at her. ‘You’re joking. We should be placing his head on a spike and you want us to give him Zena?’

‘Boss, I feel the same. From what I saw on TV, that piece of shit needs to take a bullet.’

‘And you believe everything you watch on television?’ She raised a hand in defence. ‘If you ask me she was a lot better off with Dahl. Volkov was not going to be father of the year – he was a sex trafficker for God’s sake; he did prison time in Krasnoyarsk for killing a police chief.’

Mikhail asked, ‘And who told you that? Dahl?’

‘Dahl’s weak but he’s a good man – I believe him.’

‘But, still.’ Mikhail shook his head and drew on his Sobranie.

‘I know it looks bad for Thorsten, but it’s what I’m doing. You have to trust me… like I’m trusting you.’

Rogov rubbed the blood off his hands with the towel. ‘I can’t do it.’

Mikhail put a hand on his knee again. ‘I don’t want to hear it, Stepan. You owe Natalya for not defending her in front of Dostoynov – the Colonel told me what happened. What about Primakov?’

She didn’t know what to say. Leo had set her up but then Rogov hadn’t exactly been on her side either. It was also churlish to take it personally when very few people were strong enough to go against the authorities.

Mikhail sensed her indecision. ‘Let’s keep Primakov out of it, he is a scientist after all.’

‘Agreed,’ she added. ‘We all need some sleep. Rogov, head to Sestroretsk first thing and go to all the addresses you can find for Volkov. If you come across him, keep out of the way and tell Misha immediately.’

Rogov didn’t move. ‘You need to go home. Oksana will be worried.’

‘I think she prefers it when I’m out.’

She arched an eyebrow. ‘That wasn’t what I was saying.’

‘Oh.’ Rogov finally took the hint and she watched him perform an elaborate stretch in the chair.

His shirt was hanging out and spotted with blood, there was a congealed mess in his hair, and his eyes were red from tiredness and drinking. ‘Oksana doesn’t know what she’s missing,’ she added.

‘Yeah, right.’

Rogov drained his Ochakovo.

Mikhail’s snores woke her but it was time to get up anyway. Four hours in bed had been barely enough and she had slept for less than two by the time she had calmed her racing mind. She took a quick shower, getting dressed in the bathroom before retrieving her phone from the microwave.