Head Of The Snake. G. Rehder
they both laughed.
They landed back at the same airport they had picked Viktor up at, the CemR3Nho in Vladimir. It was now 2100 hours. It had been a long day, but the pilots wanted to turn around quickly and fly into the Flughafen Hamburg Airport in Germany before stopping for the night. They didn’t want to spend the night in Russia. They would get two rooms in a hotel next to the German Airport and get the required sleep before returning to their home field in Bermuda.
A different Pobeda, this one dark blue, was sitting alongside the tarmac, waiting for Bardzecki. Mackey taxied as close to it as he could and trimmed back the engines.
He noticed there was a woman behind the wheel. No other passengers were visible in the vehicle. Tomac lowered the exit steps, and Viktor deplaned with his single bag over his shoulder. Once the stairs were up, Mack turned the plane and headed to the runway. The good thing about CemR3Nho was very little air traffic so Mack and Tomac’s time on the ground was about seven minutes. Neither the pilot nor copilot cared to wait to see if Bardzecki actually got into the luxury car.
When Bardzecki squeezed into the front passenger seat, he looked over at his driver and said in Russian, “Thank you, Mariya, for picking me up. Are you sure Gise is unaware of my return?”
“He knows nothing. He is fearing you will not return, so why this big ruse?”
“I will explain,” Viktor began to tell his sister Mariya Kamanev, “what had transpired at the Sarnev estate in Bermuda and his private conversation with Lehan.”
Mariya was aware of Andre Sarnev’s protection assignment gone awry in Alaska and Viktor’s fears concerning his part.
He then said, “I need your help carrying out that disgusting snake’s orders.”
She looked over at him. She had not started the car yet, so they were still sitting on the side of the tarmac. She became angry, doubled her fist, and punched Viktor hard on his shoulder. He tried to move closer to the door, not knowing if another blow would follow.
“You are a fool, Viktor. You and your men screwed up, and now as always, you need my help to make things right.”
The two of them argued often. Sometimes Mariya got physical, but Viktor never hit Mariya. He knew if he did, she would probably cut his throat some night while he slept.
“So what do you want me to do? ‘Garrote’ them for you? You fat swine.”
“No, I must do that myself. Lehan has insisted I be the one. I need you to film me doing it.”
“What fun is that for me? I haven’t killed anyone for,” she paused and thought a moment, “four or five months. That little Asian girl that wouldn’t stop crying after Arseniy had his way with her.”
“Please, Mariya, even though you detest me at times, we are still partners, family. I need your help in planning how to do all three of them separately without them getting suspicious.”
She finally started the car and began to drive out of the airport. She spoke as she drove.
“Now that presents a challenge. You know I love a challenge. Maybe watching Matvej die would be satisfying. He’s always looking at me with a lustful eye.”
For a while, there was silence between the two, and then Mariya spoke and simply said, “Da, I will help you.”
“Thank you. I will nap now on the way home. I slept little in Bermuda.”
Viktor closed his eyes and was soon snoring. Mariya had to restrain herself from throwing another punch into his arm to silence the noise.
Even though they argued often, he was the only family she had left. She would defend him vehemently against others while criticizing him on just about everything when they were alone.
Both Viktor and Mariya were born in the northwest district of Moscow known as Solntsevo, home to the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, an organized crime operation that dealt in arms trafficking, prostitution, money laundering, and drug distribution.
Their mother, Oksana, and father, Leontiy Bardzecki, were accused of hiding funds they had earned from their own criminal enterprise and not paying the Brotherhood their share. Rumors in the Solntsevo District were that Oksana was forced into prostitution to pay off the debt, never to be seen again, and Leontiy was turned into a meal for a pit full of viscous dogs.
Viktor was twelve at the time, Mariya was ten, no matter their parents’ fate, they were orphaned and forced to fend for themselves. And they did, quite successfully. You could say that crime and criminal activity was in their blood, and if nothing else, their parents taught them those traits well.
Mariya was briefly married to Boris Kamanev. He was tragically killed by a subway train under the streets of Moscow the day after he beat his new bride. Viktor was the only witness.
Years later, when Andre Sarnev was in Moscow on business, he was introduced to Viktor. He was told that Viktor was a man who could get things done in Moscow. “He knew the right people.” Andre hired him to run his legitimate mineral and petroleum sales operations in Russia, selling precious metals from Sarnev’s vast global mining ventures to private and government entities and brokering deals for lucrative oil sites.
When Joseph Lehan came to Moscow for an annual financial review, he approached Viktor, asking him to run his personal illegal enterprise in the region. Viktor naturally turned to Mariya to assist him. With her expertise in all things illegal in Russia, she was perfect for this new endeavor.
Bardzecki’s hard work provided Sarnev International a large and steady income stream and the combined efforts of Mariya and Viktor added to Lehan’s personal illicit fortune. One that Andre Sarnev was not aware of.
When Viktor had left for Bermuda, Mariya had dispatched Gise, Malygin, and Klopov each to a different region to take care of what she considered normal operating issues, supervising human trafficking shipments and their lucrative Chinese drug transport trade. Watching over these operations usually involved the breaking of bones or worse.
None of the three men were expected back in Moscow for at least another day or more, which gave her and Viktor time to plot their assassinations.
The next day, Gise called Mariya. “Have you heard from Viktor?” he asked.
She simply said, “Nyet.”
Gise told her, “I will be back in Moscow late tonight. My train gets into Kurskaya Station at eleven twenty. Can you pick me up?”
“Da, I will wait in my car, somewhere in the north lot. I will find a spot facing the tracks.”
This is what Mariya and Viktor had hoped and planned for.
At 11:00 p.m., Mariya pulled her Pobeda into a spot at the far end of the lot. There were only a few unoccupied cars nearby, and it was poorly lit. Viktor was in the back seat behind the passenger side, hunkered down as low as he could go. Mariya kept the engine running. It was cold, even for Moscow.
At 11:23 p.m., they saw Gise’s train pull in. Minutes later, they saw him walking out of the station, heading to the car. Since the back windows were tinted, they felt Gise would not be able to see Viktor in the back as he approached. Mariya made sure the rear doors were locked so he could only get in the front.
Mariya and Viktor both agreed that if Gise did see him in the back, they would lie about his return, tell Bogdan that Mariya had just picked him up an hour earlier, enough time to get from Vladimir to Moscow.
The strangulation plan would proceed no matter what, but surprise would be best.
Gise got to the passenger side door. His warm breath steamed visible and heavy as if he opened it, threw in his bag, and slid in while holding onto the edge of the cars roof, then he pulled the door shut. Only a few seconds had passed, Bogdan began to speak as Viktor quickly placed the garotte around his neck and pulled back with all his strength and weight.
Mariya had her cell phone out and ready. She hit the film icon and looked through the screen as Bogdan tried