AN: as before, dialogue in is in Russian.
*********************************************************************
Two Days Later (December 20th)
Outside Volgograd
Tikhomirov's estate
2045 hours
General Kyril Andreievitch Tikhomirov sat alone in his study, a glass of vodka in his hand and much on his mind.
He still had men out searching for the Rabb cousins, but no luck. They were being as elusive as the elder Rabb had been those many years ago. But as before, it would only be a matter of time before the quarries would be run to ground, brought down by their foolish honor and loyalty. Then he could truly indulge himself.
Not that it hadn't been enjoyable dealing with his current guests. The woman was fascinating in her resilience; another day or two, and her physical weakness would be enough that breaking her mentally would be simple. Then he could truly enjoy himself.
The man, Webb, was intriguing simply as an example of misleading appearances. The dossier he'd received was filled with a substantial amount of information, including several analyses stating that the man was a shallow, weak-willed political lackey with little behind his suave, polished exterior. To Kyril's delight, that had been anything but the case. Breaking him was a continuing delight.
And when he caught the Rabbs... Destroying them completely and totally, finishing what he had started all those years ago, obliterating an entire family from existence... If only all his work could be so sweet.
**********************
Elsewhere
Same time
"Do we have everything we need?"
"Far as I can tell... We've done our homework, planned it all out, worked through the contingencies. The only thing left to do..."
"...Is set it in motion."
Harm nodded. "Let's do it."
CD gave an answering nod, then picked up the pay phone and dialed.
****************************
Tikhomirov's estate
The General's musings were interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Frowning at the disturbance, he picked up the receiver and answered with a curt "Yes?"
"Good evening, Kyril Andreievitch. I hear you've been looking for me...
This is Mercedes Rabb."
Tikhomirov sat up sharply. "How did you get this line?" he demanded.
"Irrelevant. Now listen carefully. There is an old abandoned cabin 20 kilometers northwest of your estate. Day after tomorrow you will bring the man and woman you took prisoner, and *no one else*, to that cabin at 1730 local time. You'll release them, and I will give you Harmon Rabb Senior."
"That's hardly a fair trade, Miss Rabb."
"Oh, I think it's more than fair. After all, I know just how badly you want him. Your current prisoners are nothing to you in comparison, assuming they're still alive."
The Russian feigned ignorance. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"Please, General... I know your reputation. Now, remember-- the day after tomorrow, 1730 hours, and come alone. We see anyone except you and your prisoners, we are gone and so are the remains."
"But--"
It was too late. Tikhomirov was speaking to a dial tone.
***********
Mercedes hung up the phone sharply, cutting off the call. "I think that worked," she told her cousin.
"We did the best we could. All we can do now is wait and be ready," he replied, even as they exited the small hotel lobby and headed up the street, arm in arm.
They had gone a few blocks before Mercedes spoke again. "Harm," she said hesitantly, before we do this, there's something I need to tell you. Something you have to know about your dad."
He stopped walking, turning to her. "What are you talking about?"
"Harm, I... Listen, ... Back in Yekaterinburg, when I was examining the remains, I--I noticed something. Something that doesn't fit with what you were told about how he died."
"Mercedes..."
"Harm, I'm sorry, but I don't any other way to tell you. Your dad... he didn't die from a gunshot wound."
The blood drained from his face. "What?" he whispered.
Mercedes pressed her eyes closed, fighting the threatening tears. "Harm, he may have very well have been shot. But there were a large number of marks on the bones indicating he'd been stabbed... repeatedly, and with a relatively dull object." She paused, swallowing a sob. "The marks are consistent with a modern bayonet. I think Tikhomirov... stabbed him repeatedly with a bayonet, and then left him to bleed to death."
TBC.................
*********************************************************************
Two Days Later (December 20th)
Outside Volgograd
Tikhomirov's estate
2045 hours
General Kyril Andreievitch Tikhomirov sat alone in his study, a glass of vodka in his hand and much on his mind.
He still had men out searching for the Rabb cousins, but no luck. They were being as elusive as the elder Rabb had been those many years ago. But as before, it would only be a matter of time before the quarries would be run to ground, brought down by their foolish honor and loyalty. Then he could truly indulge himself.
Not that it hadn't been enjoyable dealing with his current guests. The woman was fascinating in her resilience; another day or two, and her physical weakness would be enough that breaking her mentally would be simple. Then he could truly enjoy himself.
The man, Webb, was intriguing simply as an example of misleading appearances. The dossier he'd received was filled with a substantial amount of information, including several analyses stating that the man was a shallow, weak-willed political lackey with little behind his suave, polished exterior. To Kyril's delight, that had been anything but the case. Breaking him was a continuing delight.
And when he caught the Rabbs... Destroying them completely and totally, finishing what he had started all those years ago, obliterating an entire family from existence... If only all his work could be so sweet.
**********************
Elsewhere
Same time
"Do we have everything we need?"
"Far as I can tell... We've done our homework, planned it all out, worked through the contingencies. The only thing left to do..."
"...Is set it in motion."
Harm nodded. "Let's do it."
CD gave an answering nod, then picked up the pay phone and dialed.
****************************
Tikhomirov's estate
The General's musings were interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Frowning at the disturbance, he picked up the receiver and answered with a curt "Yes?"
"Good evening, Kyril Andreievitch. I hear you've been looking for me...
This is Mercedes Rabb."
Tikhomirov sat up sharply. "How did you get this line?" he demanded.
"Irrelevant. Now listen carefully. There is an old abandoned cabin 20 kilometers northwest of your estate. Day after tomorrow you will bring the man and woman you took prisoner, and *no one else*, to that cabin at 1730 local time. You'll release them, and I will give you Harmon Rabb Senior."
"That's hardly a fair trade, Miss Rabb."
"Oh, I think it's more than fair. After all, I know just how badly you want him. Your current prisoners are nothing to you in comparison, assuming they're still alive."
The Russian feigned ignorance. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"Please, General... I know your reputation. Now, remember-- the day after tomorrow, 1730 hours, and come alone. We see anyone except you and your prisoners, we are gone and so are the remains."
"But--"
It was too late. Tikhomirov was speaking to a dial tone.
***********
Mercedes hung up the phone sharply, cutting off the call. "I think that worked," she told her cousin.
"We did the best we could. All we can do now is wait and be ready," he replied, even as they exited the small hotel lobby and headed up the street, arm in arm.
They had gone a few blocks before Mercedes spoke again. "Harm," she said hesitantly, before we do this, there's something I need to tell you. Something you have to know about your dad."
He stopped walking, turning to her. "What are you talking about?"
"Harm, I... Listen, ... Back in Yekaterinburg, when I was examining the remains, I--I noticed something. Something that doesn't fit with what you were told about how he died."
"Mercedes..."
"Harm, I'm sorry, but I don't any other way to tell you. Your dad... he didn't die from a gunshot wound."
The blood drained from his face. "What?" he whispered.
Mercedes pressed her eyes closed, fighting the threatening tears. "Harm, he may have very well have been shot. But there were a large number of marks on the bones indicating he'd been stabbed... repeatedly, and with a relatively dull object." She paused, swallowing a sob. "The marks are consistent with a modern bayonet. I think Tikhomirov... stabbed him repeatedly with a bayonet, and then left him to bleed to death."
TBC.................