Page 121 of The Collector
“You’re doing beautifully.”
“Where are we?”
“Still in Russia.”
“How long until we reach Finland?”
Gabriel looked at the flashing blue lights. “Just a few more steps.”
59
Novodevichy Cemetery
When Gabriel and Mikhail finally dragged Ingrid across the border, it was 10:42 a.m. in Finland. Tom McNeil immediately alerted Helsinki, and Helsinki passed the news to Langley, which fired it to Moscow. The station chief conscripted the same switchboard operator to phone Gennady Luzhkov. She gave him a highly redacted version of the calamity at the Torfyanovka crossing point, enough to let him know it had not gone as promised.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Gennady heard a far different version of the events when Secretary Nikolai Petrov phoned twenty minutes later. In Petrov’s telling, the crossing had been unremarkable in every way save for its cordiality. He then demanded that Gennady return the money he had transferred to Dubai earlier that morning. Gennady replied by telling Petrov that his money was gone for good.
“We had a deal.”
“And you broke it, Nikolai.”
“They made it across the border. That’s all that matters.”
“What went wrong?”
“Surely you must have some idea.”
“I think you called the director of the FSB, and the director of FSB called Volodya. And then Volodya ordered them to be killed.”
“Not bad, Gennady. By the way, you’re next.”
“How long do I have?”
“Volodya has agreed to refrain from killing you until you give me my money.”
“How sporting of him. What is his cut?”
“A half billion.”
“Is that all I’m worth? And what in the world does Volodya need with another lousy half billion?”
“It’s not about the money, you know that. Volodya wants everything.”
“Including Ukraine,” said Gennady. “Or are you the one who’s really to blame for this nightmare?”
“I want my money back,” shouted Petrov suddenly.
“And you can have it, Nikolai. On one condition.”
“You’re in no position to make demands.”
“Au contraire.”
“What do you want?”
Gennady told him.
“How appropriate,” said Petrov, and hung up the phone.
