The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,99
girl?”
“Yes,” Popov says, and I understand immediately that Popov isn’t in charge here. He might think he is, but he isn’t.
Who the hell is this man?
“Allow me to introduce myself,” he says. “I am Tigran, and you, my lovely, are going to be an especially useful asset in getting what I want. Particularly as Popov here didn’t manage to retrieve the main asset.”
“What do you want?” I blurt out.
“Andrius,” he says. “And Allyov, but Andrius most of all. I want them both gone from this world, and then Popov and I can do much business together.”
“You do know I only met Andrius a few days ago, right? We barely spoke more than ten words.”
“Ah, but Andrius has a weakness; he can’t stand women being hurt or tortured. Now, it would be better if I could have got to his little blondie, but his house on Corfu is guarded like Fort Knox. He’s a very paranoid man. I tried to hack him and, no go. It’s rumored that those Greek fucks he’s friends with have an expert hacker amongst their midst, and he is also an expert at making things … how do I say this, non-hackable … un-hackable?” He looks to me as if he wants English lessons. When I don’t answer, he shrugs. “Either way, Andrius is a fortress I cannot crack. So, I think, who else can we use, and I think, maybe his friend Konstantin, who he fought in the trenches with, and also the girl who his friend Konstantin likes. Maybe she will get me Andrius.”
“I tried to get Kon, but he was alerted, by her.” Popov stares at me with hatred.
“Get the phone,” Tigran snaps at Popov.
“Don’t fucking order me about, Tigran,” Popov snarls.
For a moment, it looks as if they’re about to go for one another, and I hope they do so I can make my escape. No such luck. Tigran gives a small dip of his head, as if to say sorry, and Popov harrumphs like some old man and stalks out of the room. Tigran rolls his eyes, and I wonder how long Popov will struggle under the illusion he’s an equal in this.
“Popov was going to kill Konstantin,” I say, adding fuel to the fire that is their obvious mutual dislike.
“No, he wasn’t. Maim him, maybe, possibly, probably, but not kill. I wanted him here, you see. Now, I only have you, and you are maybe not enough, but we shall see.”
Popov brings a large phone to the man, who takes it and dials a number after putting it on speaker. On the fourth ring, an achingly familiar voice answers.
“Da?”
“Hello, Konstantin. Tigran Atchaban here. How are you?” The man speaks in English as he has to me. I presume then he’s not Russian.
“On the way to the fucking hospital with my second, Tigran, so why don’t you keep this brief before I hang the fuck up.”
“Oh no, you don’t want to do that, not when I have something here you very much want kept safe and in pristine condition.”
“You have Cassie?”
“I have Cassie. Now, do you know who I am?”
“You’re Armenian, one of the Dawn Soldiers, as you call yourselves. What I don’t understand here, Tigran, is what you and I have to do with one another? Why have you taken something of mine? She was a prisoner. A woman who fucked something up, and I wasn’t done with punishing her. So why do you have her? I very much want the answer to that question.”
“You were going to take me out,” Popov screams. “And you were going to lie to Tigran and tell him all sorts of crazy shit about me, so you’re talking to him because you fucking got involved with Allyov’s men and took their side.”
“Shut up,” Tigran orders Popov, and he does, but he glowers and starts to pace, nothing but restrained violence in a suit of skin.
“You have a way of getting me something I want,” Tigran says smoothly. “I have your lovely Cassie here, and I know your friend, our friend, Andrius hates it when innocent little girls are ruined by men like us. Now you tell him, if he doesn’t come with you to this house, at a time when I say, unarmed, just the two of you, Cassie is dead. She’s not just dead, though, Konstantin. She’ll be brutalized. Do you understand?”
“You want me to get you Andrius?” Konstantin starts to laugh. “Oh, yes, I can see that happening. Hey, Andrius, I know