Chapter Sixteen
Explosive Business
The last four hours of his life had been one of the worst things he had ever had to experience. Over and over he reiterated that he was a behind the scenes kind-of-guy he didn't go out into the battle field, he didn't charge on his horse sword first, he made the swords wasn't that good enough? If the pay wasn't as good as it was Petrovski swore to himself that he would have quit a long time ago. All of this shooting and ducking then running it wasn't what he did, he built the tools that lead up to that but he wasn't supposed to be directly involved.
"Calm down" he heard sneer in his head, that's what Acosta kept telling him. He didn't understand how a man could be so calm when there were a thousand bullets whizzing by his head and speedboats crashing through walls and such, it wasn't at all a situation that called for anyone to be calm. Panic was a very appropriate action in a situation like that. Either way he was safe, on this plane, high in the sky away from crashing boats and…his thoughts drifted to inside the bar how he had been tricked.
James Bond. It was one thing to have the C.I.A. on your ass, but it was entirely different to have James Bond looking for you. He had never met him before but he had heard stories, many stories. Bond had a knack for killing all the people he was assigned to investigate. Petrovski had no intention to die, not soon, and not for someone like Acosta. In fact he didn't even like Acosta; he was so calm all the time and conducted himself as if he was better than everyone else, but he was wealthy, more so than Petrovski originally thought. Petrovski had never had a chance to submit his fee to Acosta, and that was a good thing because he was going to charge Acosta three hundred thousand everyday he was required to work with him, but Acosta had offered the sum of a million per day for his services. When Petrovski heard that he nearly flipped, it was perfect the dream job but now he was starting to regret it, this was getting to be too much, hoping from country to country at a moments notice.
Petrovski had another problem with Acosta, and it was with this guy he had never mentioned before. Wolffe, he didn't take to well to this guy, he walked around hardly talking in this big get-up kind of looked some kind of astronaut or something, he didn't treat Petrovski with any decent respect either, they didn't exchange many words but it was clear that they weren't going to be business partners after this thing was through. Petrovski was assigned to make weapons for Acosta, new age type of weapons, effective yet small. He was good at that; he also made explosives, which Acosta quickly made known he had no interest in. These guns he made however were better than most of the explosives he had made. Small guns designed to pack a punch like a larger one. The designs were to be deceptive, the problem with combat was that once your opponent saw your gun he knew the capabilities of it. Petrovski now turned that whole thing around, no one could tell what was going to come out of his guns, He was very proud of them.
The other component to his hiring was that he had to have protection, on his last business call he had acquired something from his old pals in the Soviet Union, and now they wanted it back. However Petrovski really felt as if the suitcase bomb belonged to him. At least this one did, out of the few that were made this one was special he had helped craft it into the perfection it was and when he defected he was sour to have to have left it behind. It was now back in his possession though so all was set right, except that the Soviets were after him and the bomb, he knew how to get them off his back though, he was about to take care of that little problem as soon as they landed. That was if they ever did, Acosta had promised him that the trip would be a short one and they were still in the air.
The jet, as Acosta explained it, was made especially for him it was said to be the fastest jet in the world and could avoid radar, but that was all Acosta said. If that was even true plus he would never go into more detail about where or even who had made this jet for him. Petrovski didn't care anyhow; he could have his secrets it didn't matter to him. He had his own anyway…
007
When they landed Acosta disembarked before Petrovski could get a chance to say anything to him, however his stooge Wolffe stayed behind to deal with Petrovski. Petrovski found Wolffe in the lounging area sitting down, it was an odd site to see this man sitting in a full suit of armor on the plane, Petrovski approached him quickly.
"I have business in the city; I'll be back in an hour or two." Petrovski told him, for a moment there was nothing, not a word, not a moment and then slowly the helmet looked up to face him.
"We'll be leaving in an hour two…" Wolffe coldly answered.
"Then they'll have to wait up for us." Petrovski shot back with as much venom as he could.
"I have instructions to stay on the jet from Acosta himself, and that's what I intend to do." Wolffe answered, at first the answer came as a blow to Petrovski, he had some business to take care of in the city but he didn't have anyone to support him, or protect him. Petrovski knew Wolffe looked down on him as it was so he just shrugged.
"I guess I'll have to go into the city by myself then." He answered.
"I guess you will." Wolffe answered almost before Petrovski could finish his last sentence. There was a tense moment in which it seem Petrovski would have protested but he didn't instead he just left.
Athens was where they had landed, luckily enough Petrovski had contacts in here, he didn't feel like wasting time he set out as soon as he was cleared from the small airport.
In the further part of town was where Petrovski did business in. An old warehouse that had been condemned twenty years ago and then put on the back burner was not his base of operations. Petrovski had saved up a small fortune one that, even Acosta, would be impressed with. The simple fact however was that he had to spend a fortune to make the products he did. Unlike Acosta Petrovski didn't have an army though, loyal servants weren't his thing anyhow, he felt that once too many people got involved that it became more complicated. How he did his business was simple he had one man he trusted who used his own factory to produce the weapons Petrovski designed, in turn Petrovski kept his name out of all the publicity and paid him a hearty sum. It was as simple as that, once in a while, like today, he had to make sure that things were going smoothly, find out what he needed to keep operations in top shape. The other thing was the situation with the suitcase bomb; he was working on a more deadly version of it, something to make the Soviets version obsolete. They were all ready becoming tired in their race with the Americans for nuclear supremacy, a lot of people were saying that the cold war was coming to an end one way or another someone was going to bow out the race, and Petrovski felt that the Soviets were the ones who were losing. They were balancing too many things as of now if they couldn't get their hands on something profound in the next ten years or appease their people who were becoming tired of the secret police and shadow operations soon then the Soviet Union would undoubtedly collapse upon itself.
It was really no skin off his nose in fact he'd be happy if the Soviet Union was wiped of the face of the planet. For the last five years he had been thoroughly managing to escape them, each time they had gotten closer and closer. It was too much to work with, how could he be effective in working if he had the damn Russians breathing down his neck the whole time. Also, though Petrovski wasn't political, he didn't believe that the Soviet Union was an effective form of government anymore, sure at one point it had seemed as if it would work, but as of late they had been more interested in how they can progress the Cold war rather than end it. The Cold war wasn't helping any person in the world, people were basically prisoners of their own countries, and there were too many guidelines and too many hidden traps. That made work for Petrovski difficult, it was annoying and it had to end.
To a degree, from what Petrovski could tell, Acosta seemed to have the same sentiments and issues with the cold war though he felt that Acosta blamed the Americans for the bulk of the problems. In the war both the superpowers had become blinded by their own plight. What they didn't see was that in the wake of such power came jealousy and anger, the smaller powers wanted the chance and the superpowers preoccupation with their silly arms race had made them miss the fact that there were smaller countries rallying. Those boarder disputes and trade route battles were not just small skirmishes they were more, for every winner in those battles was a new enemy for the United States and the Soviet Union, while they dealt with each other everyone else was planning to deal with them. It was perfect now that the British secret service had decided to lend its hand, of those on the list for doom the British were the first. They were smacked right in the middle of things they're loyalty to the Americans versus their geographical placement, at any time could the British be put right in the midst of a war and with their world policing with people such as James Bond they were spread out too thin to effectively protect themselves. In the end of all of this it seemed that somewhat of a new world order could appear but that was only if they did it right. The people were easily persuaded but they weren't stupid, if Petrovski seemed like a threat to the people then they would rally behind the Soviets and the whole plan would be demolished.
Once Petrovski had the new better version of the suitcase bomb made he would we openly advertise it, all of the Soviets partners would lose faith because they're most powerful weapon had been out done, leaving the soviets alone and in a matter of time they would lose the ability to function and someone would take advantage of that, not Petrovski he wasn't interested, but someone.
That was if this whole thing went right, the involvement of James Bond was unforeseen, Petrovski wasn't sure what Acosta was doing but if MI6 was involved it had to be something big. Too big for his taste obviously he hadn't kept it under cover very well because now they were on not just Acosta but his ass too.
Acosta though was still very calm, even with the involvement of MI6 he hadn't wavered in any way, which was a surprise to Petrovski, before all of this had started Acosta was very worried about the C.I.A. agent finding his factory but after that he had calmed considerably, and the danger had seemed to take a worse turn. When Acosta decided to set a bomb on the tram in New Mexico he had done so with such aloofness it seemed as if he didn't care if it worked or not. There was certainly something that had happened in between that time that Petrovski hadn't been let in on. Though he had not signed up t be a direct component in Acosta's idea this bit of revelation had him upset, he should be alerted, especially now that he had come face to face with James Bond. Petrovski cringed, there had been days where he had wondered what James Bond looked like, he thought about this man a lot he was dangerous, that was why no one ever bothered to go through the British government for anything everyone was careful to keep their big operations small looking. But now he had come face to face with the man. They both new what each other looked like now not that that gave Petrovski any kind of advantage over Bond, if he was lucky he'd never see James Bond for the rest of his life because he was sure as hell not going to go look for Bond, no amount of money was enough for him to commit suicide.
The warehouse was large and to any other person it would take a very long time to navigate their way inside it but Petrovski knew his way by heart. It was all protocol now, he walked inside the creepy building, and indeed the inside was a bit intimidating. The inside was only lit by the light of the sun which wasn't much because all of the windows were covered with dust which kept the sun's light at a minimum. Some of the old structures, which had been weathered down quite a bit in the last two decades, still stood and their shadows bestowed an almost satanic presence in the warehouse, you wouldn't make them out quite well and they stood there, and in the brief but usable sunlight, that shifted during the day, the shadows moved across the walls slowly and with odd precision to the path that was usable in the warehouse. Once Petrovski had been here when a group of young men came through being nosey, they had gotten lost and been inside for hours and after noon the shadows started to move and the boys were frightened, they screamed and with some added effects by Petrovski they did all the could to escape, eventually two of them jumping out of a window to escape the 'demons'.
The entire place was coming down slowly, Petrovski was aware of that; soon enough there wouldn't be enough credibility for the building for him to stay there. The floor was coming apart, there was a specific path he had to follow to get where he wanted, it was tedious but it kept people like the roaming children from finding his operations, not that if anyone found it they'd be skilled enough to escape before they were killed, but why take the chance anyhow?
The warehouse was three floors only but it was wide it took over a large portion of the street it was on, the other thing was the basement, where Petrovski worked out of, was absolutely the biggest single room he had ever seen. When he had found it he was surprise that they hadn't decided to reuse this building for something, but it was to his benefit anyway. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth' Petrovski thought.
He came to a large hole in the floor and looked into it, for a moment he had puzzled himself to how to get down, but he remembered there was a series of storage boxes that lead up to the hole. Petrovski jumped down onto a box and then stepped down the rest. On the bottom floor he had a choice to walk into the light where the sun shone in from a small hole in the wall, or the looming darkness. Without any hesitation Petrovski walked into the darkness, he began to whistle a song he had heard some time ago, just to make sure that his 'friend' knew he was coming. The song was theirs now, they had used it many times to alert each other of their presence, from the dark abyss ahead he heard a man whistle the same tune.
"Petrovski finally, my life was beginning to get boring." The man said, Petrovski turned the corner and saw a man standing over a conveyer belt set aglow in deep orange light as he looked over some metallic equipment. The man was dressed in large black outfit, bulky and tacky as Petrovski remembered thinking the first time he saw him. This man though was now a core component of his life, everything Petrovski manufactured was done through this one man and this one man only.
"My life is getting too excited for my own good…" Petrovski muttered. "…My new client has got a head for enemies." Petrovski continued. The man smiled and nodded.
"The C.I.A. giving you more problems than you can handle?" The man chuckled; Petrovski kept a serious face and picked a gun off the conveyer.
"It's worse…" Petrovski sighed. "…MI6 has decided to get them selves involved." Petrovski finished.
"MI6 again…" The man said shocked. "…they're getting to be a pain in everyone's ass, if they keep policing the world, there will be global unrest." The man said.
"You know how they are Ramos…" Petrovski shrugged. "…What have you got for me?" Petrovski asked. Ramos looked around as if he didn't already know what was there.
"Everything you asked for..." Ramos answered. "The guns weren't a problem but the projectiles were a lot harder than we thought they may be." Ramos explained, Petrovski smiled and picked up one of the weapons.
"Wonderful, wonderful…" He repeated. "…what's the range on these projectiles?" Petrovski asked, Ramos sighed and picked one up as well.
"About thirty…" Ramos answered, Petrovski turned to him with a look of surprise.
"Feet?" Petrovski asked, Ramos nodded and put the weapon down.
"Just about…" Ramos said. "…of course I haven't been able to really test it out but from what I did get down I've found out thirty feet was the max and they do stick to surfaces." Ramos explained, Petrovski nodded happily.
"Detonation time?" Petrovski asked, Ramos shook his head and crossed behind Petrovski.
"I know I told you I couldn't rig it to the arm band device last time but I did manage to get that done." Ramos explained.
"Wonderful…" Petrovski explained. "…so I can detonate them whenever?" Petrovski asked.
"No, I made a safety if you don't blow them up for a minute they'll go off themselves, but there is a timer if you use that then you can time how long the bombs have, other than that though." Ramos said.
"Absolutely perfect Ramos…" Petrovski put on a armband that went to elbow joint, moved his arm around to check how comfortable it was and checked the many buttons on it.
"How many did you make?" Petrovski asked, Ramos pointed to the one he had on.
"Two…" Ramos said. "…it's too good to mass produce." Ramos smiled.
"That's because your so efficient Ramos, you've never let me down." Petrovski praised him, Ramos continued with his smile.
"No, it's because your designs are so ingenious…" Ramos started. "…you seem to out do yourself all the time." Ramos praised him back.
"You flatter me too much…" Petrovski laughed.
"If the American's or the Soviets still had you this war would be over." Ramos said, his comment seemed to sober Petrovski.
"Soon it will be…" Petrovski answered. "…How much of this stuff can I actually take today?" Petrovski asked, Ramos scratched his head and looked around.
"The two armbands are yours…" He pointed. "…those three guns too, the others need to stay here for some testing." Ramos explained, there was a long pause as the situation shifted.
"What about the bomb?" Petrovski asked, Ramos screwed his face up in a disappointed way.
"I really wish I could have your help when testing that thing out…" Ramos explained. "…it's the most complicated thing I've seen in years; with the soviets made it they must have had a lot of times on their hands." Ramos said.
"They started before World war two…" Petrovski explained. "…they were going to use it to clear up business disagreements" Petrovski said.
"But what happened?" Ramos asked.
"But when World War Two came along and Hitler betrayed Stalin, he insisted that production be stopped so that they could deliver one to Hitler personally and have no trace of any production, you know deny, deny, deny…" Petrovski explained. "…the plan was to try to fake a new alliance and give him a suitcase with 28,836,999.89 rubles, but really give him one of the bombs as Stalin put it 'Дуньте он отсутствующе с мягкосердечием'" Petrovski said, Ramos laughed.
"Blow him away with kindness…" Ramos chuckled. "…What happened after the war?" Ramos asked, Petrovski shrugged.
"Production ended, whatever was left of the suitcase bombs was locked up and tested on until I got my hands on one. Considering that I helped with the testing of the newer ones making them more effective I believe I am entitled to the bomb." Petrovski explained.
"And here we are refining the Soviet Union's creation…" Ramos said. "…much like the British to the American's" Ramos went on, Petrovski was sitting up straight, alert, he didn't say anything.
"Did you hear that?" Petrovski asked, he moved to the way he entered the basement, he looked around very alert. The fear began to set in slowly as he became more positive that someone besides Ramos and himself.
"I didn't hear anything, it's just your-" Ramos started but Petrovski waved his hand and hushed him harshly. Petrovski couldn't really figure out if it was inside now, or what it was exactly. Petrovski walked back towards Ramos to check the small area behind the conveyer belt, he walked through a small passageway and investigated silently looking around making sure he heard everything.
The passage lead to a different room where most of the completed equipment was held, most of the equipment that was finished only was used for prototypes for better more efficient weapons and were never used. They collected dust and this room seemed like a relic itself as its walls were covered with moss and a misty air. Petrovski looked over some of the older equipment and some memories came to him. Though they were weapons they were his and each one had a distinct story behind them. Usually the equipment he made was not for sale; Acosta was the only person who insisted that Petrovski lend him his expertise. The guns he was taking from here today were in fact made especially for Acosta, what Acosta wanted with them was beyond Petrovski but Acosta was paying him a separate sum from his initial services. It came to Petrovski's worry now, why would Acosta spend all this money? What could possibly be important enough to spend a fortune over?
"What did it matter?" Petrovski thought, he was getting the money anyway so there was no use in trying to find something wrong with Acosta or what he was doing.
Petrovski started back down the passage to Ramos, whatever it was he had heard was obviously nothing, and he had managed to get himself worked up over nothing yet again. As he came to the end of the passage he heard Ramos' voice.
"I don't know…" His voice shivered out. "…I haven't seen him in years." He concluded. Petrovski listened closely as he came to the end of the passage and then he heard another voice.
"We will ask you one more time and then we will be impatient…" A new slimier harsher voice said. "…Where is Petrovski?" the sound of his own voice coming out of the harsh voice, it was then that he recognized the accent, Russian without a doubt, the Russians had followed him here somehow.
It was always when Petrovski thought he had gotten away did the Soviet Union manage to track him down he had to get away. Usually there were a lot of questions involved, sometimes pain but the Soviets tried to keep a low profile with Petrovski. Petrovski looked around the corner to see who was questioning Ramos.
Petrovski's heart fell to his ankles, the men he saw were not who usually came after him, those men were small and feeble looking, negotiators because the Soviets wanted Petrovski to just walk back to the U.S.S.R. with the bomb he had stolen, like a fool so they could shoot him in the back and then blame his death on some disgruntle costumer. These men though he recognized them, they were K.G.B. agents. Petrovski felt anger grow inside of him; the Soviets must have been really upset after Petrovski's last encounter with them. Petrovski had hurt one of their men in a minor explosion, so now they've sent their hit men out after Petrovski.
"I told you I don't know where he is." Ramos answered, the lead man out of the three walked over to Ramos, who they had seated on the conveyer belt, and placed his hand on Ramos' shoulder.
"Mr. Ramos I have a very reliable source who pointed me straight to this exact warehouse and told me the exact time that Petrovski would be here." The man said, his accent was different from the others, it was Russian but there was something else…
"You shouldn't trust everything you hear." Ramos said. The lead man nodded but the other men seemed anxious they looked around and they were getting closer to where Petrovski was hiding.
"I agree, but is it a coincidence that all this different equipment is here?" the man asked, Ramos looked around and shrugged.
"I don't know what to tell you." Ramos answered, the lead man smiled.
"I'll give you ten seconds to tell me…"The man said. "…and then I'll have to resort to the least favorable part of my job." The man said.
Petrovski was beginning to panic, who could have told the K.G.B. all this information about where he was going to be? No one knew where he was going except Ramos.
"Like I said-" Ramos started, but before he could answer the lead man pulled out a gun and shot Ramos in the chest, his body flew over the conveyer belt and onto the floor. Petrovski held his breath as Ramos hit the ground dead. "Shit…!" he thought. "…shit, shit, shit!"
"Ten…" The lead man said. "…He's in here so find him." The man said, the other two men began to check the area and Petrovski made his was back in to the backroom and stood there, there was only one way out of the warehouse, and this backroom didn't lead to any of them. Petrovski hated this, first Bond and now this; there was no way out of this without confrontation. This was perfect, it wasn't even the ill prepared negotiators, these guys were trained to kill and they didn't give a damn. Petrovski looked around and saw all the weapons, at least he had two advantages, these guns would work and he had the jump on them. Petrovski went through the weapons he saw, he knew them how they worked, what they did. This wasn't like anything they had seen before and now Petrovski would show them.
"There's a path down here!" one of the men called out, Petrovski instantly noticed the thick Russian accent, the puzzling question though was why they were speaking English. Petrovski began to panic and picked up a gun that had been made years ago. He had to be careful there were still two others, if he took a shot he'd alert the other two. Petrovski went over to the entrance and stood next to the wall directly beside it. He was good at this gun thing; he wasn't sure how to hold one of these tings correctly.
The K.G.B. officer glided into the room and looked around but before he could see Petrovski Petrovski had slammed the gun into his the back of his head and the man went towards the ground but Petrovski did his best to guide his fall to be a silent one.
"Now what?" Petrovski thought, he didn't know what was supposed to come next, there was still two of them somehow he had to get them separated.
"Я ы здесь, вы увидеть это" Petrovski called in Russian, his response came obviously from the other man that hadn't shot Ramos, Petrovski met the man quickly in the path and placed the gun close to his stomach and shot, there was a muffled explosion and the man bit down on his own hand when Petrovski shoved into his mouth when he fired. His own Soviet Union training was coming back to him a little, now there was one.
At this point Petrovski realized what was different about the lead man, his voice, his accent. It was American, Petrovski couldn't be sure but it sounded as if this was an American who knew Russian not someone born and raised in the U.S.S.R. However that statement didn't make sense, how could an American be leading up a pair of K.G.B. officers? What did this mean for Petrovski? What kind of shit had he gotten himself into now?
Petrovski had the surprise element set up. Jump out from the path take as many shots as he could and kill him then get the hell out of here. This was the moment where most people would have felt slightly empowered, he had the upper hand and he had done it all by himself but Petrovski didn't feel empowered, he was angered and scared he wanted to get out of this situation, this was more of Acosta's element. Sneaking around and calmly looking his danger brazenly in the face, just narrowly missing his own death. Petrovski wasn't made for this, yet for some reason he kept getting into these situations.
"On three…" He told himself.
One…
He inched close to the exit and to his final confrontation, hopefully, he had the gun ready for firing and his heart was pounding furiously, his brow was beginning to sweat.
Two…
Bang!
The explosion shocked the hell out of Petrovski, it wasn't his gun and the bullet had landed an inch an away from his head. Petrovski spun around and saw the man he had 'knocked out' standing with the gun pointed at him. Shock, absolute shock took over Petrovski's body, but when the man took another shot Petrovski had instinctively thrown himself on the floor and took a shot at him.
Three.
The other man appeared at the entrance to the passage and Petrovski rolled his way towards him taking two terribly aimed shots at the American man. They were on him faster than he could ever have imagined. By the time he was his feet there were two guns firing at him. One of Petrovski's shot managed to hit the purely Russian man in the knee. The man hit the ground and he took one shot and the bullet grazed Petrovski shoulder. Petrovski yelled as loud as he could and fell to the floor again. The American man walked over angrily.
"Mr. Petrovski you have been a pain in our ass for too long" The man said, Petrovski shot up missing the man completely but the ceiling ricocheted and hit the American man and he fell over. Petrovski was up before he knew it and tried to run pass the man but he threw a kick that landed Petrovski on the floor. Petrovski's arm hit the arm band he had on, and something shot out in blinding speed, Petrovski ran as fast as he could out the conveyer belt room and into up the boxes, as bullets blazed around him. The sun's light had dimmed and now a subfusc tone had engulfed the warehouse. Bullets flew all around Petrovski and he ran as fast as he could but a bullet flew so close to his face that he toppled over and landed on the armband. Petrovski felt something jerk from the armband and something shoot out. The American man wasn't too far behind, Petrovski struggled up but the man was on him, it was too late the one shot this man would take now would kill Petrovski. The man knew it, Petrovski knew it, and the man aimed and took the shot.
The loud click echoed through out the entire warehouse and for a second they just stared at each other in disbelief but before long Petrovski had gotten up and ran out the warehouse. His running had began to burn his legs, his muscles felt as if they were going to explode, his blood boiled and his mind raced. The sky was spinning above him and the concrete was seemingly uneven and everything suddenly became a burst of sound, and everything took a yellow and orange like glow, Petrovski felt as if his body had flown through the air and landed on the ground. His panic had taken him over; the American man would be on him in a second and he'd be dead. No, something had happen, the sound was an explosion, the entire warehouse was on fire everything was coming apart. Fire was in the air, the world was in fire. No…the armband had released bombs and they had exploded, it was less than a minute but if it had been any longer Petrovski might not have been alive to see it happen.
His initial reaction was to rejoice, get up and scream at the top of his lungs about how alive he was but then the weight of the situation came on him like a ton of bricks. The explosion was huge, the authorities would be here and there were three dead K.G.B. agents inside, rejoicing about being alive could very well get him killed. He got up, his body was aching from the fear, the running and the blast, but at this time getting back to Acosta was the most important thing of all. He had to disappear like he always did, into the cloud fire he had created he would vanish not to be seen again until he decided it was safe.