Tsunami
Disclaimer: NCISLA characters belong to Shane Brennan. All original characters and this story are mine.
Chapter 8
Moscow — two days later
It had been a over ten years since Callen had been to the Russian capitol, Moscow. Each time he returned he noticed the changes with time, like everywhere else these days. It was like someone had fast forwarded time and cities that had stood for hundreds of years unchanged, were thrown into a race for change into the twenty-first century. But it wasn't just the buildings, the people had changed too. The friendliness that had existed ten years prior had gone. Everyone wanted more and more and they were driven to success. Moscow was a city driven by success and greed. For a country where eighty percent of its population continued to struggle and remained stuck in poverty, Moscow's population were dripping in wealth.
For this operation, Callen had to remain in character as Vladimir Dorosh and be one of those people. Partying all night, where business deals happened at the rear of clubs and weapons and women were traded. None of which settled well with him. He looked over at Jennifer Ashley, CIA operative who had as much experience under her belt as he had. He knew she could handle her part in this operation, but he still worried. He didn't have an abusive nature. He could play the part, but he didn't like it.
"You sure about this? It's not too late to pull the plug on you being involved in this."
"You think I can't handle myself?"
"I'm sure you can, but it's not going to be pretty." He wiped his hand over his face.
"Do you have what it takes to do your part for your country in this operation?" He studied her, she didn't break his gaze once. She was tough, he'd seen that instantly, the moment she walked into his hotel suite in London.
"England may be where I live these days, Callen, but America has always been my home. I will do what it takes to protect my home." He noted the annoyance in her voice, at his doubt of her ability to proceed in the operation.
Callen nodded. "Good. Now, I need you to trust me. Vladimir isn't Mr Nice guy. When I'm in character, there is no room for who I am to sneak out to be nice to you. Vladimir owns you, he will be rough and hurt you. I need to know that you can handle who I have to be."
"I trust you. I've read your file, well, what's not been redacted. The fact that you're asking me these questions proves to me that you are nothing like your alias. I can be the scared woman, who needs you to need me and I will accept whatever Vladimir puts me through. As long as at the end of the day and we're behind closed doors, you return to being Callen again."
"We'll be closely watched, there will be times when we can't be ourselves."
"I'm aware of that. Now do what you have to for our covers."
He hesitated, flexing his fists at his side. Memories of his youth flashed before him. The abuse and the numbness, so he'd never feel the pain he'd suffered when he was nine years old ever again.
"You sure you don't want to put the bruises on your neck and arms yourself?"
"Perhaps it should be me asking you if you're up to your part in this operation?" She narrowed her eyes as she saw him change before her. Whatever he used to bring this darkness over him, it worked and she shuddered.
He grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall. He hadn't shaved in a week, his thick bristles grazed across her soft cheek. She braced herself as she felt her windpipes constrict. Fear entered her eyes for a brief moment, before he released her. Callen stepped back, he was no longer the man she'd gotten to know over the past few days. He truly was in character and Vladimir Dorosh stood before her.
The pressure on her neck from his hands remained and she gently pressed against the marks on her neck as she looked in the mirror. Bruises formed and his mark was left for anyone to see. She flinched, as pain on her upper arm caught her by surprise. Another set of bruises would match the ones on her neck before long.
He held her tight and swung her around. "You need to get dressed, we are expected at Sacha Pajari's house for dinner in an hour."
Jennifer Ashley nodded and left him. She needed to focus and become Vladimir's property, Layla Robinson. Her English accent would do her well in this operation as the poor Layla whom Vladimir rescued from poverty in London. He'd given her a roof over her head and all the clothes and jewellery she desired, as long as she did what he wanted.
Sacha Pajari's house
Callen pulled up in the sports car he'd been given for his alias, Vladimir. The passenger door was opened by a guard, who waited for him to help his woman out of the vehicle. With her hand draped over his arm, dressed for success, they ascended the stairs to the grand front door of the Moscow mansion. They were greeted by another guard who led them inside the two hundred year old villa, with a fifteen foot high fence that surrounded the property.
"Vladimir Dorosh. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Ivan has been telling me so much about you, I was beginning to wonder if you were a ghost." Sacha Pajari greeted him with a strong hand shake, his eyes moved to Jennifer's, engraving her image into his memory.
Callen chuckled, slightly amused. "I prefer to be a ghost. It keeps me under the authorities' radar." Callen was curious to how long Ethan Wiles had been talking about his alias to Sacha.
"Your woman, she is beautiful. May I?"
Callen nodded and watched Sacha closely as he lifted Jennifer's hand to his lips.
"What is your name?"
Callen could see desire in Sacha's eyes, he knew then why Jennifer had been chosen. Not just because she was an experienced operative, but for her beauty and that she was Sacha's type.
"Layla Robinson."
"English. Well, Vladimir, you've done well indeed." Sacha smiled over to them, pleased with his guests. "Let's talk business. Layla can stay here with the other women I have invited for tonight."
Callen looked over to the group of women who sat like dolls on the 19th Century Gold Leaved Russian Swan Couch. They perched themselves on the edge, waiting to be called. Jennifer sat down in a Gilded Louis XV style French Bergere Armchair, her eyes met Callen's. She'd prepared herself for this operation for the past few weeks, but being there now, could she really play the part of a woman who would put up with being treated like an animal by the men?
Callen followed Sacha through carved double doors into what one would classify as a man's domain. Dark wooden panelling covered the walls, with soft lighting from lamps spread around the room.
"Cigar?"
Callen shook his head. "I'm more of a vodka man."
Sacha smiled and clicked his fingers. A brunette dressed in a red dress, pin-tucked underneath the curves of her breasts which draped over her thin frame, walked over. She had similar features to Jennifer, and at a close glance, Callen could see faded bruises on her neck and upper arm.
Callen accepted the vodka and swallowed, placed his glass out for more. The unnamed woman took it immediately and refilled his glass. After he'd swallowed the second glass, Callen turned his focus on Sacha.
"I see that we are very alike, Vladimir. We like our women to know who's boss." He smiled broadly over to Callen, thinking he'd found a comrade in him.
"A man cannot show any weakness around a woman. Incase she gets any ideas in her head that she can do what she pleases."
Sacha chuckled. "A man after my own heart."
Callen returned a smirk, trying to block out the voice inside his head to kill Sacha with his bare hands there and then.
"We have a very important meeting next week in Prague. We will meet with some friends from Los Angeles, Americans who have been helping our cause to strengthen Mother Russia back to her former glory. There will be lots of women to admire and if you see any that you desire for your own, all you need to do is make an offer."
"But tonight, let's focus making a deal for our trade."
Voices from outside the room caught Sacha's attention and he excused himself. Before he made it to the door, it opened wide and the white haired man lunged for Sacha.
"Where is my Anna? You stole her from me, you thief."
Sacha pushed the older man off him and wiped his hands down his suit jacket. "Is that a way to greet an old friend, Arkady? I have guests."
Arkaday Kolcheck looked over and spotted Callen instantly. "What are you doing here?" Arkady pointed to Callen. He turned to Sacha. "You've betrayed me with him? You think I have bad manners, he walks into my house holding my men as prisoners, with a gun to their temple."
Sacha looked over to Callen, amused by the story. "You know Vladimir, Arkady? Well if I had known that the two of you were old friends, I would have invited you too."
"Oh we've never been friends," Callen told him with a straight face.
Sacha laughed, "I suppose not, turning up to his house like you do." He rubbed his hands together. "Come and join us, Arkady."
"I want Anna. That is all I want and then I'll be gone."
Callen raised a brow, in all the years he'd known Arkady and shown up unannounced at his house or used his pool, he'd never heard of him talk about any Anna's.
"She's not here." Sacha lit his cigar and held the box out to Arkady, who remained in his standing position and shook his head.
"Where is she?" There was something about the way Arkady was desperate to get this Anna back that peaked Callen's curiosity.
"Prague."
Arkady fisted his hand, ready to smack it into the side of Sacha's face.
"She must be of some great value to you, Arkady." Callen stood up and walked over to his old friend. "Do you have a photo of her?"
Sacha watched the interaction between Arkady and Vladimir with interest. "You've never met Anna?"
"No. I've never even heard Arkady mention her name. She your new woman?"
Sacha rolled out laughing. "You really have no idea, do you?"
Callen narrowed his brow as he studied Arkady. "Who is she?"
Callen took Arkady's cell from him and looked at the photo of a pretty blonde sitting on a bench seat. "She is pretty. A bit young for you, isn't she?"
Arkady's face fell, confusion washed over Callen's face.
"She is Arkady's daughter, Vladimir. If you like her, make an offer next week, she'll be up for grabs."
Arkady pushed past Callen to strangle Sacha, Callen pulled him back. "I think I might just do that."
Arkady furrowed his brow, "do what?"
"Make an offer on Anna. She would look good alongside Layla."
"You wouldn't…"
Sacha laughed, "he really doesn't like you, Vladimir. I think our trip to Prague is going to be more entertaining than business after all." He poured himself another glass and missed the look between Arkady and Callen.
They were indeed old friends, for whatever reasons this unusual friendship came in to being and Arkady was thankful for Callen being there, under the guise of Vladimir Dorosh.
Callen smirked. "I agree, Sacha. Prague should be very entertaining indeed."
The unnamed woman walked over with another shot of vodka and Callen swallowed it down, thinking as he felt it wash down his throat. He had another objective for his visit to Prague next week. Rescue Anna Kolchek from the grasps of Sacha Pajari.