It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 06

I went back to the room and shot another email to Kaitlyn.

****

We six men looked quite debonair in our tuxedos, I thought; almost fitting companions for Ashley, who shimmered and dazzled in a long black gown. The gown was covered in glittering sequins, fell off the right shoulder, leaving the left bare, and had a slit from ankle to mid-thigh on that side. She was nervous as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof, but appeared completely self-possessed, and she was stunning.

That's not my opinion; every male in the palace agreed, including the large, barrel chested man introduced by the Minister of Minerals and Petrology as Petr Volkov. When the mixing, mingling, and introductions ended and we were told to take our seats, I discovered he was sitting across from Ashley and me, beside the minister. I wasn't sure what to expect, but they were cordial throughout the meal -although it was clear both would rather be consuming my shiny companion.

Ashley shown in more ways than one, engaging in conversations around a variety of topics with an assortment of dignitaries and female escorts, exhibiting curiosity, grace, her charming personality, and her business acumen as the topic required. I sat back and watched her impress, knowing I had found my peer in the business rather than my assistant. Her poise was uncanny.

Perhaps most impressively, she used her fork adeptly; left-handed fork is expected in continental formal dining, but at best, I'm bumbling with my left hand.

There were speeches proclaiming a new era of prosperity as partnerships between Hungarian businesses and "businesses from other countries" lead to development of the natural resources of this amazingly rich land... or something along those lines. The Hungarian-English version of Tex-Mex was hard to follow, but Al seemed to understand and love what was said.

I stayed engaged, applauded at the appropriate times, and did my best to be a proper guest, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ashley and I did well when the ballroom dancing began, in spite of being unfamiliar with the music and each other... on the dance floor. After the first two dances, however, she was otherwise occupied by Volkov, the Minister, and other state dignitaries. I danced with other wives/escorts if they indicated interest, but conversations were limited by my rudimentary Hungarian and their rudimentary English. Nonetheless, they seemed pleased by my efforts.

Volkov waited until fifteen minutes before the scheduled end of the affair to invite me outside "to enjoy a Cuban." His announcement after we lit up that he had acquired the mineral rights for the pockets we were interested in came with a slight smile and appraising stare. I did my best to act surprised, but he seemed to know I wasn't.

He then assured me that we could reach an agreement, but I would need to accompany him to his home outside Kaunas, Lithuania to complete the negotiations, due to urgent business matters to which he must attend. I again acted surprised, immediately asking if we would be taking Al Varga as the COG rep. He said that would not be necessary; I could act on behalf of the partner company.

He told me we needed to leave immediately, by helicopter, so he could timely address the urgent issues, and assured me that I would be returned to Budapest by helicopter after negotiations were complete.

That we were then joined by two burly gentlemen obviously carrying firearms, and directed to the elevator to the heliport on the adjacent building, was not unexpected, but still intimidating. I protested that I was not prepared to travel and needed to advise my companions of my new plans, but Volkov warned me the deal would end if I did not demonstrate my trust by joining him on the flight.

I reluctantly agreed, but told them I must text Ashley with the change on the way to the helicopter, or alarm would be raised. Volkov allowed that, but my phone was taken from me when we arrived on the roof, at which time I was also searched. Searched physically and electronically, I might add.

We boarded the large, luxurious chopper, and whizzed away to the north-northwest. I took a deep breath, and attempted to engage Petr in conversation about the mineral rights. He shortly advised me that he had more pressing matters to deal with on the trip, and we would get down to business once we were at his home.

His fortified home in the midst of a forest beside a remote lake near the village of Vilemia, but he didn't know I knew that.

The veneer and the kid gloves both came off as soon as we landed. I was handcuffed and roughly directed to the basement of the main building, where Dumb and Dumber took turns beating on me, without explanation. Volkov, stripped of the need for civility, watched, laughing as I spit blood and tried to keep my swollen eyes open.

Finally, they stopped, and he spoke. "MacGregor, you are but a pissant, a cockroach, and you have caused me far more problems than I can allow!

"Just so you know who I am, it was I who posted the reward for your family, and I who purchased them. You think you thwarted my efforts, but by this time tomorrow they will be on a plane for Kaunas, and they will be mine.

"Why would I do that, you would ask if you could still speak, so I will tell you: because of you! You have interfered in my business dealings for almost a decade! Twice I ordered your death, and twice you evaded death. This time you will die, but not before suffering for your transgressions!

"You consider yourself a shrewd businessman, as well as a patriot, a good American! You wrap yourself in the supposed moral standards of America, refusing to do business as everyone else does. God, Flag, Country! That is laughable! Your country is laughable, a farce!

"Your countrymen have grown fat and weak, timid, afraid! They cling to rhetoric, whether political or religious, and espouse what they are told, like frightened robots!

"The democracy you Americans are so proud of is a joke - democracy depends on an enlightened, engaged electorate. Yet you have many elections at the local level in which less than 10% of the voters vote, and a third of the eligible voters casting ballots is considered a high turnout! It is only marginally better in state or national elections.

"Your representative democracy has been usurped, replaced by a system in which your legislators look to the 'party', not the people, for direction, and the party depends on the richest for direction!

"With the weakness of the legislative branch, the executive branch has usurped power, and because the executive branch appoints the judicial branch, it has become a rubber stamp for those who appoint the judges and justices.

"The wealthiest 10% of Americans control 90% of the wealth, and the richest 1% control over one-third. The middle class is shrinking, and those living hand-to-mouth increases yearly.

"We have divided you into those who believe American democracy is too weak to survive against the strong governments in China and Russia, and those who view the world through rose colored glasses in which no one else is a threat and we would all get along if the US demilitarized!"

He stopped preaching and laughed long and loud at this point, then got wound up again.

"The police are bad, criminals are heroes, the past is rewritten by both sides, and the other side is always wrong. You have those who fear statues and words, and those who fear books, different lifestyles, and people not like themselves.

"We will fix all of that for you! We will tell you that you are safe and happy, and will reinforce that truth if you disagree. No more fighting over the second amendment right to own guns - there will be no second amendment, no beloved constitution or bill of rights. Only the military and police will have guns, and anyone found with a gun will be killed, and since the state will control all media, there will be no need for something as superfluous as 'freedom of speech'

"You are a pissant, but people like you stand in our way, so you must die... but first you will suffer! No one kills my people and steals my arms! No one stands in the way of our conquest of your country!

"Tonight my men will beat you to a pulp, but we will let you live long enough to see your children and wife, and then I will kill you in front of them. You will die knowing they are with me, the better man, and that you were never more than a pissant!"

The second round of beatings was brutal but mercifully short after Volkov left. I don't know if they got tired, took mercy, or were concerned they would deprive him of the kill in front of my family.

They drug my battered body into a cell, removed my handcuffs, gave me a bottle of water, and left me there in the dark.

I gingerly bathed my face, lips, eyes, and ears after drinking, and laid down on the concrete floor. It was definitely in the early morning, but I had no idea of the hour. If Volkov's timeline played out, I would be dead by midnight tomorrow, and my family would be watching as I died. I idly wondered if my death would free Kaitlyn of her fear of me, and then passed out.

The guard and a woman who brought me another bottle of water sometime the next morning looked at me in horror, looked away, and wouldn't cast their eyes toward me after that. I must look a mess; I certainly feel a mess. A very painful mess, but the pain means I'm still alive, so it's better than the alternative.

It was cold in my basement cell during the night, but it warmed up during the day. I hadn't seen Volkov or anyone else since I awoke, but I used my water sparingly and still had a few swallows left in mid-afternoon. My face and mouth were so swollen it was difficult to get the water into my mouth and swallow it, and it hurt going down my battered throat, but I knew I had to drink.

The light faded into darkness again, and I waited for the sound of the helicopter bringing my family, if our protective measures had failed. I heard nothing, and fell asleep again.

I awoke not to the sound of a helicopter, but to the sound of my cell door opening. The two goons yanked me up by the arms, and drug me back to the chair in the center of the room, where Volkov was waiting. They didn't tie me this time; instead, they held me in place.

Volkov slapped me, backhanded me, and cursed me in Russian. "You think your family is safe now, but this was merely my first effort. I will send a bigger force to kill those who guard them, and bring them to my country, and I will do it soon! Unfortunately, they won't be able to see me kill you, but I will show them your rotted body!"

He raised the gun and pointed it at me. "What happened, all powerful one?" I muttered through my broken teeth and lips. "Did you fail again?"

The anger turned his ruddy complexion dark red, and he stepped closer. "You think I've failed, pissant? I have you, don't I? I'll kill you tonight, all your friends tomorrow, and then capture your family and make them mine!"

"Why do you want my family, all powerful one? Tell me that before you kill me."

"I met you wife and children at a party Robert hosted. Kaitlyn is a perfect specimen of Lithuanian royalty; blonde and beautiful. Robert gave her to me, but your FBI destroyed him and she left him before he could deliver her and your children to me!

"Perhaps you would call it an obsession, but I want her at my side, bearing my babies, and your children are necessary to keep her happy. My men tried to take her in the dessert, and again twice in the mountains, but failed each time. They succeeded at the school, but you took her from me in Mexico, only hours before she and the children were to be flown to me!"

"What happened today?" I managed, while blood dripped from my split lips.

"My men thought she was in Arizona, but she had been moved back to your home in the mountains. They failed to properly estimate their foes, and the attack failed. No matter, it will succeed the next time; we will overwhelm them! Your friends will die then, you will die tonight, and I will inherit your wife!"

He smirked at me and brought the pistol to bear. I stared back at him, wondering if the plan had failed and I would die.

And suddenly the house shook with the mighty roar of an explosion, and then another, and another. Small arms fire could be heard just outside, near the house. Volkov yelled at the two goons, and they ran up the stairs with their pistols drawn.

Ignoring me, Volkov ran to a window and looked out at the skirmish line approaching the house. He turned in a panic, only to find me standing behind him with one of the rods they had used to beat me held high. His surprise, perhaps, kept him from raising his pistol quickly enough, and I struck his arm with the metal rod when he began to raise it. He screamed and dropped the pistol; I poked him in the liver with the rod, and he bent over in pain.

Swinging the rod was beyond excruciating, but I managed to raise it above his head and bring it down on the back of his skull; he collapsed on the floor. I picked up his pistol with my right hand, and hit him in the ribs with the rod in my left; he moaned and rolled onto his back.

"Pissant, huh? Almighty god-among-men, who has the gun now?"

He stared up at me, and held his hand up as if to shield his face from a bullet. I heard running feet on the steps and faced the door; two men burst into the basement screaming something in Russian. They saw me standing over their boss and raised their weapons; I shot the one in front, and then the one behind and to his right.

It was the two who had beaten me so badly last night. Both were going to die from the gunshots, but I walked over and poked the rod into each wound, just to make their deaths more painful. I then collected both guns, and walked back to Volkov.

"What you hear in the death of your empire, Volkov. The CIA, the British SIS, the Israeli Mossad and the Australian ASIO are all involved. Your records will be taken, your spies around the world killed and your empire dismantled. You will die without heirs, in this dirty dungeon, at my hand! At the hand of the pissant who defeated and destroyed you!

He started to say something, but screamed instead when I shot him in the left thigh. He began begging, I think, in Russian; I told him I don't speak Russian, and shot him in the right knee. He screamed again, and began begging in English. I shot him in the pubic bone, and laughed at the wailing and begging for his life.

"Even if you somehow survive, I doubt you will ever give my wife, or any woman, your baby. Your equipment won't work anymore, oh mighty one!"

I wanted to kneel down, place the barrel in his mouth, and blow the back of his head away, but I doubted I could get up if I knelt, so I pointed it at the center of his chest. Time to finish this.

"Shalom Aleichem, Robert Roy. I see you are alive and have our target under control."

Between my broken teeth bloody gums I answered, "Aleichem Shalom, Agent Schoor. It's good to see you again. And this time I mean it.

"However, it would have been far better if you had arrived just after I did, according to the plan"

"You were right all along, Robert Roy; the plan was too intricate. But we made it before he killed you, and now you hold his life in your hands. You've earned, you deserve, the right to kill him.

"He's a despicable man, and he has tried to kill you and take your family four times. He deserves killing. But, if you will allow me to take him with me, I will assure you he will never cause another problem for you, and his existence will be painful beyond anything you might conceive. Far more painful than death. What we learn from him will be used to destroy his connections, regardless of rank, and destroy his organization.

"Will you allow me to take him? If not, I will honor your right to kill him, as he deserves."

Getting dizzier by the second, I took the gun by the barrel with my left hand, leaned over, and struck Volkov in the mouth with the butt, ruining his teeth and lips as he had mine.

And then I collapsed across him.

****

The first time I awoke, it was dark and still, and there were tiny lights and mechanical sounds, but I couldn't stay awake to examine my surroundings.

The next time my eye opened, I determined I was in a bed in an institution, most likely a hospital. My right arm was in a cast, as was the lower part of my right leg, which was elevated in a sling.

Oxygen was flowing into my nose, which hurt, but not as badly as my left eye, from which I couldn't see. Cautiously turning my head, I determined the beeping sounds were coming from a bank of instruments above my left shoulder, and that I had an IV in the main artery of my left arm. I tried to move my body to reduce the pain in my lower back, but that caused horrendous pain everywhere, and I gasped.

A face appeared in my open door; it took a moment before I recognized Armando, a member of my security team. He saw my open eye, turned his head and yelled something, and then approached the bed.

"Damn, Boss! We thought we were gonna lose you for sure! It's good to see you awake! I sent for your doctor."

The tube taped over my mouth prevented speech, and gesturing with an arm in a cast was both difficult and painful, but Armando seemed to read my mind.

"You're in the Level 1 Trauma Center at Oslo University Hospital at Ullevål, in Norway. You were airlifted here after the skirmish at Volkov's place. We had expropriated Volkov's helicopter and were planning to fly you to Germany, but Clay learned that a team of American doctors from Mayo are here teaching a group of Norwegian doctors how to use the new equipment, so they brought you here.

"Doctors are coming - I'll be back later to catch you up!"

Mine must be an interesting case, because there were eight doctors and a couple of others who seemed to be nurses, maybe. One of them began introducing the others as soon as he saw I was conscious, and then they began gently examining, poking, prodding and speaking in medical lingo.

I'm not sure about the others, but the one who seemed to be in charge was an American.

At some point I was able to curl my index finger left hand to point at the tube taped over my mouth; they took the hint, and someone began removing the tape. They warned me, but I wasn't prepared for the ten feet of plastic tubing they pulled from my gullet.

Once out though, my throat was on fire and my mouth was caustic and dry. I licked my swollen lips with my tongue, which painfully discovered my broken front teeth.

One of the non-doctors placed a small ice chip on my tongue, and reminded me to keep the ice off the broken teeth. That was good advice, as the remnants were a mite sensitive.

The poking, prodding, examining, and medical talk continued while I melted three pieces of ice on my tongue, placed there by a friendly nurse-person. I listened enough to know that, in addition to a determination of condition, plans were being made for my treatment.

Steeling myself for whatever happened when I tried to talk, I cleared my throat a bit, and managed to whisper, "Doc, how bad?"

He smiled at the others in turn, and answered, "It was bad - very bad. When you were flown in, you had internal bleeding that we had to staunch before we could do more. You were fortunate that we - a team from Mayo Clinic - were here training doctors in the use of the newest trauma equipment. All eight of us became involved because we discovered an abdominal aortic aneurysm, in addition to fractures of your skull, eye socket, leg, arm, ribs, hands, and fingers.

"There are too many hematomas and contusions to count, and several of your internal organs were bruised rather badly."

He looked more satisfied than concerned as he pointed to and listed my medical issues, and his colleagues seemed as self-satisfied as he.