The Spy Devils by Joe Goldberg (top rated books of all time .TXT) 📕

Company, Ukraine headquarters. He looked over at Chen, whose faced displayed a rare moment of worry.

“Are you concerned, Minister? I think that went quite well. The frequency, channel scanning, and location software enhancement worked to perfection. Our message has been delivered, and all elements of the situation are under control.” Chapel sat back in his chair, brushed his hand over his tie, and smiled.

“Yes, but now we are at the moment when we do not control much of the next events as they occur. Li Chu is a motivated and intelligent man. It will not take him long to conclude who assisted in his being located,” Chen said.

“Today is a busy day. I could use a drink.” Chapel stood. He patted Chen reassuringly on the shoulder as he walked by. Chapel opened the door, stood back, motioned with a slight bow of his shoulders, and waved, indicating that Chen should go first.

“Yes, thank you.” Chen stood and walked toward the open door.

“Minister Chen,” Chapel said in a soft voice. The man stopped, and Chapel saw his face had regained its traditional expressionless appearance. “No matter which direction destiny takes us, it will not matter. For us, our position is secure, and we will prevail either way. You are safe. For others, sad to say, this is their last day on this earth.”

Chapel followed Chen out the door.

41

Fade to Black

Kyiv, Ukraine

Olek had spotted Beast the previous day. He had just returned from Cyprus after Ira arranged for Olek’s release. When Olek’s driver turned off Dilova Street heading to the Bondar residence behind the bank, he had just enough time to do a quick glance—then another. He spotted a familiar face sitting on a bench under a tree in the small brick plaza outside the bank entrance.

“I saw him,” he told Ira.

“You are sure?” Ira held up a grainy photo taken by the Cyprus National Police captain of a bearded man in a police uniform. “Him?”

“Yes, but now he has no beard. But he is one of them. He was there when…I was tossed into...”

A clean-shaven Beast checked into the cramped three-story hotel using his alias as a U.S. salesman for an abrasives company. Given the hotel’s location near several businesses and financial institutions, and with the added benefit of being away from central Kyiv's congestion, it was a popular hotel for foreign visitors. It was also adjacent to the Ukraine Standard Bank and the Bondar residence building behind it.

He requested a third-floor room with a street view. The enclosed restaurant that was literally built on the sideway provided a perfect spot for static surveillance.

At 5:50 a.m., Beast gathered up some newspapers he purchased the day before, stuffed them under his arm, and headed to the restaurant that would open in ten minutes. Imp’s plea for coffee did not fall upon deaf ears. Beast was exhausted and could use a pot of anything black to clear his head. Plus, he was starving, and the desk staff promised a pretty good morning buffet of breads, cheeses, fruits, cereals, and meats.

The buffet was to Beast’s left as he entered the rectangular dining area. Three rows of two- and four-seat white tables and chairs ran the length of the room. Windows covered the three sides facing the street in front and the sidewalk to the left and right.

When he arrived, there were already a few men in suits sitting at tables drinking coffee. Beast plopped his papers on a table next to the windows facing the street and sat, making sure the spot had the right sightlines to the entrance of the bank. The dim light of dawn started creeping up the horizon.

Before he stood to get his coffee, he felt the unmistakable metal of a gun pressed against the back of his neck.

“Do not move,” a deep, heavily accented voice said. Beast placed it in central Europe. Not Ukraine. Maybe Serbian. He saw the reflection in the windows of two other men standing in sentry positions. Suppressed pistols were pointing at him. “Keep your hands raised, or we will just shoot your head off.”

“This must be a mistake,” Beast said. He felt the gun press harder.

Beast could tell that all three were some sort of soldier. Fit and hard men. It figured to be a pretty even fight.

The Serbian reached under Beast’s jacket. He took the Sig Sauer P226 from his Kydex holster. He pulled Beast’s pager-sized secure radio transmitter and receiver off his belt. The man tucked the P226 in against the small of his back, powered the radio system off, and shoved it in his pocket.

He sure knows a lot.

“Follow him.” The Serbian waved toward a smaller man who had a tough, weathered face. The Serbian was behaving like the leader, and to Beast, that made him the most dangerous of the three.

He will be the hardest to kill.

Beast was slow to move and felt the push in the middle of his back from the third man. Beast kept his hands up at chest level like he was doing push-ups against a wall. He turned and stared into the blank, empty eyes of a person who killed automatically—like a robot.

They led him to a narrow set of stairs at the end of the ground floor hallway—Tough Face. Beast. Robot. The Serbian.

“Up,” the Serbian commanded.

Beast complied. He didn’t see any other guests in the halls or on the stairs. No staff or other people coming in or out.

They took control of the hotel just to get me.

As they reached the top of the stairs, they exited on the third floor and started down the narrow hall. Carpets and walls were decorated in beiges and gold. Beast’s room was halfway down on the right.

Advantage me.

Beast made it a habit to memorize his surroundings.

His room was long and narrow with slightly outdated European-style laminate furniture. A rectangular shape—maybe fifteen by twenty. Two twin-sized beds were pushed together on the wall to the right. Along the wall to the left of the door