Money Ain't Loyal

It was yet another humdrum cold winter morning in CSKA Moscow, but not to Natasha Orlova. Her hands, tucked in the pockets of her black leather hoodie, shivered, her teeth rattled, and her stride down the narrow alley; broke into a trot. Her shoulders were hunched against the prevailing chilling wind - she felt was against her - as she advanced; hoping that the heat generated by her body from her little exercise of trotting would fortify her against the vicious attack of the cold.She cursed herself for listening to the cabman who had dropped her at the mouth of the alley.“Miss, you seem to be in a hurry.” He had said. “This is the shortest cut. Through this alley, then to your right and there,” he pointed, “you have the hospital.”She dropped and paid him. She could still remember his broad, slick smile, as he pocketed the bill, made a U-turn, and drove away with the stream of traffic, going into the city.

It wasn't until ten minutes past eight that another movement of the gate brought his mind instantly to the present. The gate rolled open. He sat up. A Lincoln Navigator showed its head. His lips drew off his teeth in a crooked smile. He stubbed the smoldering cigarette in an ashtray in the car and turned on the ignition of the Toyota. As the Lincoln turned right and edged into the flow of the traffic, he drove the Toyota, in his bid to follow the Lincoln. He made sure two cars separated him from the Lincoln.The night traffic was tight and slow. With the pace used by cars along the broad street, the dark man felt even if the driver of the Lincoln spotted him, he'd think of him as part of the traffic.The car in front of him was a low Aston Martin sports car. Ahead of it was another low car, and he got an unobstructed view of the rear of the Lincoln. He admired the balance, the ease at which the big car edged its way through the tight downtown Miami traffic. But what good w

The circuit blow brought Jamie Rico instantly awake. He hadn't seen the flash, as he had his back turned to the window and his curtains drawn. So, he thought it was a gunshot. He laid still on the bed, his ears straining. Then, as he relaxed, his quick suspicious ears picked out the faint noise of a door click. He stiffened.His hand drew out a drawer by his bedside and his fingers closed over the steel butt of a .38mm.He raised his head from the pillow and listened. The noise was repeated. It was a soft sound, like someone taking care not to be heard, was slowly turning the handle of a door.Silently, he took out the gun from the drawer, raised himself, and with his left hand, he groped for the light switch, found it, and turned it on. There was no response from the light bulbs as if the switch and bulbs had recently had a discord.Darkness still hovered around the room, but he wasn't scared. He had a gun. He pulled back the safety catch of the gun and gently d

As Pascal edged to where the Lincoln was parked with the dark man following behind, his mind worked swiftly. Any moment from now, he felt the man behind might slip up. He might come too close before they got to the Lincoln. Then that would be his chance, he thought.As they reached the Lincoln, the signaling lights of the Lincoln flashed. Pascal stopped abruptly, but the gun nudged him forward.“Get in the driver’s side.”With fallen shoulders, he got the car door open and got in. His gamble hadn’t come off. The thought that he might be dealing with a man as efficiently professional as himself brought cold sweat to his forehead.The dark man got in the back and settled himself directly behind Pascal.“Get us to the agency,” he said and relaxed back into the luxury of the car.Ten minutes of steady driving with the speedometer needle flickering over forty and fifty brought them to Rico Truck Agency.Pascal sounded

The plane touched down at 10:55 a.m. at the Miami International Airport. Among the passengers to leave the plane, Natasha alighted. A Hermes handbag hung over her left shoulder, a diamond and emerald necklace on her neck, and a small-sized leather traveling bag was on her right hand.She walked briskly to the Arrival center, passed the police control with a wide, sensual smile to the officer in control, and walked out into Miami's cold winter morning.She hurried to a waiting taxi, and as she opened the rear door, a hand dropped on her shoulder.Startled, she swiveled around. Seeing her husband, she relaxed, then smiled.“Are you going to enter that, not when I've been here for the past half hour waiting for you?” Rico said. A false, stern expression on his face. …Gorevoy Egorov came slowly and lazily awake. He turned over on the small-sized bed that barely fitted his muscular frame and grimaced as his leg contacted the floor. He dr