below his waist. “I would actually prefer it. I would get to the truth faster.”
“You would cause a lot of suspicion. Do you want DCBI to raise hell and hit the brakes? One American woman dies here and it is in every damn newspaper and TV channel newscast in the whole world. Do not be an idiot. Do as I say. And if your people lose her again I expect to hear about how they died, slowly and painfully.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was nothing else left to say. Bal swallowed his frustration and exited the CEO’s office, walking backwards for a few steps. Such a shame he couldn’t have his way with that sharmuta, at least not for now.
...78
...Monday, August 29, 10:32AM Local Time (UTC+2:00 hours)
...CANWE Headquarters
...Undisclosed Location, Greece
Vitaliy Myatlev’s hangover had started to subside, enough to make him want to get out of bed and go outside, with his eyes covered by dark shades. A beautiful summer day, and he had a lot of plans for it. He looked over his shoulder at the naked young woman sleeping in his bed. Khorosho, otlichno devushka . . . She was a good girl, excellent. Didn’t speak a word of Russian, this girl, and he didn’t speak a word of Greek. But it didn’t matter; she wasn’t there for the conversation. He didn’t remember much of his performance from the previous night, his memory faded in the fumes of first grade vodka, yet he felt really good this morning. The sex must have been great.
The morning hangover was almost a given these days, and he knew just how to deal with it. His staff knew, too. One of his bodyguards, Ivan, approached him with a tall glass of spicy tomato juice, generously christened with Stolichnaya, and an aspirin bottle.
“Spasibo,” Myatlev said, swallowing the pills with Bloody Mary, “thank you, Ivan.”
He sat on the lounge chair in the shade of the big oak trees and dozed off for a minute.
His encrypted cell startled him, but he answered immediately when he recognized the name on the caller ID.
“Misha,” he greeted the caller, “how are you? How is Russia?”
“Vitya, like you care,” the caller answered.
“I do care, Misha, I care deeply. And I am working hard on our business arrangement,” he stated, shifting on the lounge chair to find a more comfortable position.
“I hope that’s true. We have a lot riding on your word, and Petia is losing his patience. He’s not a very patient man, our President, you know that very well.”
“I need a little bit more time,” Myatlev replied, rubbing the headache away from his forehead. “I am very close to delivering an amazing gift to you both. I just need more time.”
“How much more time, Vitya? We’ve been waiting for months to see something happen, and we have nothing other than your promises.”
“I need precisely two months and a half more,” he pleaded. “Ten weeks, that’s all I’m asking.”
“Ten weeks to deliver what, Vitya? You never bothered to tell us and make a commitment. Right now, I am not sure I can continue to trust you. It is my head if you disappoint the man. Maybe yours, too, but I care about mine a lot more.”
Myatlev considered his options. The caller, his life-long friend Mikhail Dimitrov, sounded less and less like his friend and more like Russia’s Minister of Defense. A very powerful and dangerous person to have worried about his ability to deliver. Myatlev had a sound respect for anyone who could throw him into the depths of Siberia and forget him there. He decided to trust him a little more than he had planned.
“Misha, what if I tell you that in ten weeks I will deliver America?”
There was no answer for a couple of seconds.
“America? How can you deliver America, Vitya?”
“In ten weeks, our mutual friend, President Piotr Abramovich, will have America under his control. That is my promise to the both of you.”
...79
...Tuesday, August 30, 11:02AM Local Time (UTC+5:30 hours)
...ERamSys Headquarters - Fifth Floor Conference Room
...New Delhi, India
They were almost done enduring through another PowerPoint presentation. Priya had talent, and her engagement and style of presenting made it almost enjoyable. The topic was ‘Steps In Scope Validation and User Acceptance,’ instructing the DCBI team what to expect in closing the contract with ERamSys. All DCBI representatives were attending, including Scott and Brent, while Bal supervised from the most distant corner of the room without saying a word.
The contract was late in delivery. They should have taken ownership of the software