The cousins received the new in silence. It was a long moment later when Mercedes finally chose to break the quiet surrounding them. "Tell me everything you know about him," she ordered, forcefully but without emotion.
"He's GRU-- the military counterpart to the KGB. Has been for over thirty years, but began acquiring power about twenty years ago. Before that, he was pretty much just another soldier."
"That still doesn't tell us why he's so interested in us or in Harm's father," she pointed out in irritation.
Harm, who had remained silent until this point, finally spoke, in a low voice. "It was around twenty years ago that Tikhomirov began getting noticed?"
Alex nodded, and Harm fell silent again. However, Mercedes sat up and turned to her cousin. "You're on to something, Harm," she stated. "Tell me."
He ignored her, instead looking to Volkonov. "Would it be possible to find out where Tikhomirov was stationed in the early '80s?"
Volkonov nodded. "We won't even need to pull his official service record, which would... draw notice. There is an unofficial file that is kept for journalists and researchers to use. I can probably access it from any computer."
"Good," Harm replied, leaning back and relaxing slightly. "That should tell me what I need to know."
Mercedes tried again. "Harm, what is it you're thinking?"
He looked her straight in the eye, his blue eyes touched with ice. "I'm thinking we may have found the man who killed my Dad."
*****************************************
Several hours later
Enroute to Saratov, Russia
Eager to get to Volgograd, the cousins had vetoed Volkonov's idea that they accompany him back to Gork'iy, which was in the opposite direction of where Mac and Clay were being held. Instead, they headed south to the city of Saratov, which was home to a small military base. The plan was for Volkonov to bluff his way in and then use their computers to pull up information on Tikhomirov.
At the moment, they were near the small village of Petrovsk. Mercedes had been reluctant to part with the Lamborghini altogether, given its speed. Grudgingly, Harm and Alex gone along, and they retrieved the car from its hiding place outside the city before heading south, rotating driving duties between Volkonov's car and the 'borrowed' Lamborghini. Currently, Harm was following in the Italian sportscar, while Alex and CD led in the slower Russian sedan.
The ride had been quiet, the Russian army officer still uncomfortable with his friend's German cousin. For her part, Mercedes had been too lost in thought to strike up a conversation... until now.
"Captain Volkonov..." She began uncertainly. "May I ask you a question?
He looked at her, noting her nervousness. "Please. It's Alex. And yes... if I may ask you one."
She bit her lip, contemplating, for a moment, then nodded. "Go ahead."
He shook his head, grinning slightly. "Ladies first," he insisted wryly.
She gave a snort of laughter. "I knew you were a gentleman, but obviously not a good judge of character, or you'd know I'm no lady," she replied. Alex... Is this Tikhomirov really as bad as he sounds? I mean, does he really have this penchant for brutality you described? Or could it just be hype-- tales told to get him where he is?"
Alex chose his words carefully, his voice low and serious. "You must understand, Russia is different from the rest of the world. Even now, for a man to have a reputation such as Tikhomirov... words only would not sustain such a thing. And the stories I have heard... I do not speak lightly when I say that they are horrible. He has been reputed to have done tortures which have not been seen since the days of the great Tsars. I think he would be capable of just about anything."
Mercedes had listen in stoic silence, and closed her eyes in pain as he finished. "I had thought as much... Still, I had to know..." she said in a near-whisper.
An alarm bell went off in Alex's head. "You asked for a reason. Why?"
She turned to look out the window, staring blankly into the distance. "If I tell you, I want your word you will not tell Harm what I know. I discovered this; it's my duty to tell him."
Alex nodded. I give you my word none of this will reach your cousin's ear."
She nodded in response, continuing to gaze out the window. "Harm was apparently told his father died from a gunshot wound. I know differently."
"How?"
"His Dad told me."
"What?"
"His bones, actually. My uncle may have been shot-- in fact, it sort of makes sense with what I know-- but that wasn't what killed him. He died very slowly, and very, very painfully. Which is why I'm guessing that Tikhomirov is responsible. What was done-- it fits with his reputation." She turned back to Alex. "I'm grateful for your help, Alex. Really. But after we find out about Tikhomirov's past, I want you out of this. Hell, if I could have my way, I'd want Harm out of it too. It's for the best."
The chill of her eyes and ice in her voice sent shivers skittering down Volkonov's spine. "Mercedes... what are you going to do?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, before speaking in a voice backed with steel. "But no one hurts my family and walks away."
TBC.....
"He's GRU-- the military counterpart to the KGB. Has been for over thirty years, but began acquiring power about twenty years ago. Before that, he was pretty much just another soldier."
"That still doesn't tell us why he's so interested in us or in Harm's father," she pointed out in irritation.
Harm, who had remained silent until this point, finally spoke, in a low voice. "It was around twenty years ago that Tikhomirov began getting noticed?"
Alex nodded, and Harm fell silent again. However, Mercedes sat up and turned to her cousin. "You're on to something, Harm," she stated. "Tell me."
He ignored her, instead looking to Volkonov. "Would it be possible to find out where Tikhomirov was stationed in the early '80s?"
Volkonov nodded. "We won't even need to pull his official service record, which would... draw notice. There is an unofficial file that is kept for journalists and researchers to use. I can probably access it from any computer."
"Good," Harm replied, leaning back and relaxing slightly. "That should tell me what I need to know."
Mercedes tried again. "Harm, what is it you're thinking?"
He looked her straight in the eye, his blue eyes touched with ice. "I'm thinking we may have found the man who killed my Dad."
*****************************************
Several hours later
Enroute to Saratov, Russia
Eager to get to Volgograd, the cousins had vetoed Volkonov's idea that they accompany him back to Gork'iy, which was in the opposite direction of where Mac and Clay were being held. Instead, they headed south to the city of Saratov, which was home to a small military base. The plan was for Volkonov to bluff his way in and then use their computers to pull up information on Tikhomirov.
At the moment, they were near the small village of Petrovsk. Mercedes had been reluctant to part with the Lamborghini altogether, given its speed. Grudgingly, Harm and Alex gone along, and they retrieved the car from its hiding place outside the city before heading south, rotating driving duties between Volkonov's car and the 'borrowed' Lamborghini. Currently, Harm was following in the Italian sportscar, while Alex and CD led in the slower Russian sedan.
The ride had been quiet, the Russian army officer still uncomfortable with his friend's German cousin. For her part, Mercedes had been too lost in thought to strike up a conversation... until now.
"Captain Volkonov..." She began uncertainly. "May I ask you a question?
He looked at her, noting her nervousness. "Please. It's Alex. And yes... if I may ask you one."
She bit her lip, contemplating, for a moment, then nodded. "Go ahead."
He shook his head, grinning slightly. "Ladies first," he insisted wryly.
She gave a snort of laughter. "I knew you were a gentleman, but obviously not a good judge of character, or you'd know I'm no lady," she replied. Alex... Is this Tikhomirov really as bad as he sounds? I mean, does he really have this penchant for brutality you described? Or could it just be hype-- tales told to get him where he is?"
Alex chose his words carefully, his voice low and serious. "You must understand, Russia is different from the rest of the world. Even now, for a man to have a reputation such as Tikhomirov... words only would not sustain such a thing. And the stories I have heard... I do not speak lightly when I say that they are horrible. He has been reputed to have done tortures which have not been seen since the days of the great Tsars. I think he would be capable of just about anything."
Mercedes had listen in stoic silence, and closed her eyes in pain as he finished. "I had thought as much... Still, I had to know..." she said in a near-whisper.
An alarm bell went off in Alex's head. "You asked for a reason. Why?"
She turned to look out the window, staring blankly into the distance. "If I tell you, I want your word you will not tell Harm what I know. I discovered this; it's my duty to tell him."
Alex nodded. I give you my word none of this will reach your cousin's ear."
She nodded in response, continuing to gaze out the window. "Harm was apparently told his father died from a gunshot wound. I know differently."
"How?"
"His Dad told me."
"What?"
"His bones, actually. My uncle may have been shot-- in fact, it sort of makes sense with what I know-- but that wasn't what killed him. He died very slowly, and very, very painfully. Which is why I'm guessing that Tikhomirov is responsible. What was done-- it fits with his reputation." She turned back to Alex. "I'm grateful for your help, Alex. Really. But after we find out about Tikhomirov's past, I want you out of this. Hell, if I could have my way, I'd want Harm out of it too. It's for the best."
The chill of her eyes and ice in her voice sent shivers skittering down Volkonov's spine. "Mercedes... what are you going to do?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, before speaking in a voice backed with steel. "But no one hurts my family and walks away."
TBC.....