not to make that mistake again. From now on he would trust no one, except Akilina and Taylor Hayes. His boss had connections. Maybe enough to counteract what was happening.
But first things first. He needed to get out of the consulate.
Orleg and Droopy were surely nearby, probably just outside. He tried to remember what happened before he passed out. All he could recall was more electricity surging through his body, enough that his heart had fluttered. He'd stared hard into Orleg's bleak eyes and seen joy. The last thing he recalled before succumbing to unconsciousness was Droopy shoving the inspector aside, saying it was his turn.
He tried once more to push himself from the floor. A wave of vertigo swirled through his head.
The office door flew open. Droopy and Orleg strolled in.
"Good, Mr. Lord. You're awake," Orleg said in Russian.
The two Russians yanked him from the floor. Instantly the room spun and nausea invaded his stomach. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling and he thought he was about to black out when a sudden rush of cold water soaked his face. The initial feeling was like the electricity, but where voltage burned, the water soothed and his dizziness began to abate.
He focused on the two men.
Droopy was holding him upright from behind. Orleg stood before him, an empty pitcher in hand.
"Still thirsty?" the inspector asked with sarcasm.
"Fuck you," he managed to say.
The back of Orleg's hand slapped his wet jaw hard. The pain from the blow roused his senses. He tasted blood on the corner of his mouth and wanted to pull free and kill the sonovabitch.
"Unfortunately," Orleg said, "the consul general is concerned about a murder taking place here. So we have arranged a little journey for you. They tell me a desert lies not far away. A perfect place to bury a body. I live in the cold. Some warm, dry air would be nice." Orleg stepped close. "There is a car waiting in the rear of this building. You will go quietly. There is no one present to hear any cry for help, and if you make one sound outside, I will slit your throat. I personally would kill you here. Right now. But orders do need to be followed, would you not agree?"
A long, curved knife appeared in Orleg's hand, its edge boasting a recent sharpening. The policeman handed it to Droopy, who pressed the flat of the blade to Lord's throat.
"I suggest you walk slow and straight," Orleg said.
The warning mattered little to Lord. He was still woozy from the torture and barely possessed the strength to stand. But he was trying to muster enough stamina to be ready if an opportunity presented itself.
Droopy shoved him out of the office and into a secretarial area devoid of people. Down a staircase they made their way toward the rear of the ground floor, past a cadre of offices, all of which were dark and empty. The glimpses he caught through windows showed that day was surrendering to night.
Orleg stepped ahead, now leading the way, stopping at a paneled wooden door outlined in elaborate molding. He unlocked the latch and opened it. Beyond, the growl of a car motor could be heard, and he saw the open rear door of a black sedan, exhaust smoke whipping mist up and over the roof. The inspector motioned for Droopy to bring their charge forward.
"Stoi, "a voice called out from behind. Stop.
Filip Vitenko brushed past and moved straight toward Orleg. "I told you, Inspector, there would be no more violence where this man is concerned."
"I told you, diplomat, this does not concern you."
"Your Mr. Zubarev is gone. I am in authority here. I have spoken to Moscow and have been told to do as I see fit."
Orleg grabbed two handfuls of the envoy's jacket and slammed him to the wall.
"Xaver," Vitenko screamed.
Lord heard the gait of someone rushing down the hall, then a stump of a man rushed at Orleg. The second of commotion allowed Lord to jam his elbow into Droopy's stomach. The muscles were hard and flat, but he managed to wedge the point between ribs, then wrench upward.
Droopy's breath left him in aswoosh.
Lord shoved the hand holding the knife away. The big man atop Orleg noticed the attack and turned his attention to Droopy, leaping onto the Russian.
Lord lunged toward the outer door. Vitenko momentarily interfered with Orleg, which allowed Lord to leap out under the porte cochere harboring the idling vehicle. He saw no one