Tempest - Kris Michaels Page 0,74
sped by the slowly crawling line of luxury vehicles. She scanned the oncoming cars from where she stood on the street outside the ballet house. The gold Aurus Senat coming to pick her up crept further along the avenue toward the entrance of the ballet. Chauffeurs were prohibited from exiting their vehicles, thus stalling the slow creep of vehicles. Instead, a uniformed assistant opened the side door of the vehicle, allowing the occupant into the climate controlled comfort.
Nadia Volkov tapped her foot in irritation. Her driver was supposed to be at the front of the line. Instead, her gold Senat was midway in the line. Unacceptable. She'd have the driver fired and then find a way to make him pay. Perhaps he had a son or a daughter she could dangle from a string. Yes, she'd see how the man liked waiting.
The attendant opened her door and she slid in. The curtains had been closed. Another strike against the man. She wanted to be seen. Was he a fucking imbecile? She drew a breath and reached for the chilled champagne which waited for her. At least the halfwit had remembered to chill her wine. She removed a crystal wine glass from the holder she’d had the manufacturer make specifically for her. She had two vices in this world. Wine and caviar. Indulgences for the most refined tastes, unlike that pig, Three, who'd choked to death on common chocolate while eating in bed. Obscene. The conference call with One tomorrow would no doubt stretch into an uncomfortable duration. One was so... banal. In truth, she should hold the position of First. The woman's plodding in the United States was becoming irritating.
She took a sip of her wine and wrinkled her nose. What vintage was this? Definitely not her Louis Roederer Gold Label Cristal Chardonnay Pinot Noir, 2002. She placed her glass back in its holder and removed the bottle from the bucket. Strange. She blinked at the label. The swirling R blurred. She braced herself against the soft leather of the back seat. No! This... Nadia fell to her knees and crawled to the front of the car. She ripped the curtains back. "No!"
The driver wasn't the man she'd hired. Dead eyes turned to her and a sneer curled his lip. She clutched her stomach as waves smeared across her vision. No. This couldn't be hap...
The old warehouse at the edge of St. Petersburg was a shell neglected to the point it had partially collapsed. The barb wire fencing around the structure was as old. Nothing and no one had been in the building for months if not longer. The dust, cobwebs, and decomposing garbage covered in dirt told a story of abandonment to anyone willing to look. Tempest had been willing. He'd turned off the headlights of the expensive luxury car about a mile ago and hadn't passed a soul, either on the road or walking. This corner of the city was desolate and perfect for his plans.
He dragged the woman from the vehicle and placed her on the quickly constructed frame he'd built after landing in the country. His watch vibrated and he glanced down. Sierra team would be engaging with security at the woman's home soon. He hit the mechanism on his watch, checking in. So far, so good.
A razor-sharp knife made quick work of the woman's designer gown. The fabric fell to the ground in a pool at her feet. With practiced ease he slid the IV needle into the woman's arm. Guardian wanted a statement. They were going to get one.
Tempest opened the port to the IV and let the chemicals mix. The tip of his knife made multiple, fine cuts, opening her veins. She moaned as he finished the last cut.
He moved away from her and watched as she regained cognizance. "What? Release me!" she bellowed in Russian.
He cocked his head at her. "Why would I do so when I've gone to such trouble to kill you?" His Russian was practiced and precise.
Her eyes widened, and she swung her gaze to the IV and then down her body. "What is this? What are you doing?"
"I'm making a statement. Humanity has had enough of your manipulation." This time he spoke in English.
"I don't know what you are talking about." The woman's chest heaved, and her arms tightened as she struggled to loosen the zip ties which held her to the frame he'd thrown together.
Tempest crossed his arms over his chest after he put his knife away.
"These