Chapter Text
Chapter 13
The violent slamming of the breaks sent Douglass into Red’s battered torso as the SUV went from moving at a rapid rate to a sudden halt. Red could not contain the grunt of pain from having Douglass’s crash into him. Douglass started to call out to the people in the SUV again, but the only response was the sound of doors open and then slamming shut. The men were not going to speak to them, at least not yet. Douglass yelling did not help the pounding in Red’s head. He was confident he had a concussion from the wreck, along with his damaged shoulder, which he assumed from the pain was either dislocated or possibly a broken collar bone.
Red tensed when Douglass started struggling. Douglass pushed his back hard against Red, getting his body turned so that he was laying sideways in the back of the SUV. Douglass started to kick his bound legs against the tinted window of the SUV hatchback. Despite his best attempts, all Douglass managed was to scuff the windows.
When Douglass finally became too exhausted to continue to kick at the window, he rests back against Red not caring for the other man's injuries. “If these are your….”
Before Douglass could finish his sentence, the back door opened, two masked men standing outside looking in on the two captive men. One man yanked the struggling Douglass out of the SUV, while the other aided Red to first sit on the tailgate and then stand on the outside of the SUV.
While Douglass continued to struggle and cuss the masked men, Red studied their surroundings. They were in a hanger, but there were no airplanes in the site. It was unlikely a military base, Red deduced because it was illogical for the US military or anyone affiliated with it to go through this much trouble to get ahold of Red, who had been in custody for almost two years now. Therefore, Red assumed that this hanger was likely associated either with Veor, or possibly one of his enemies who found the perfect time to strike out at a weakened Red. If the first were true, Red knew he had little to fear, but if the latter were true then this would likely be his last day on Earth. Before he reacted, Red knew he needed to obtain more information about who had him, and what they wanted. Meanwhile, he could at least generate a mental map of the location, so if he had to escape he would know the possible routes.
The masked man who held Red’s arm in a strong grip maneuvered him through the open hanger and into a room with a table and two chairs. Pulling Red to a chair, the masked man ordered, “Sit.”
Red obeyed finding no reason not to at this point, at least that is what he hoped. Part of him feared that Douglass had broken him to the point that he had difficulty questioning direct orders. He felt nervous, though it did not show on his face. Being in this small room made him uncomfortable, reminded him of the cell he spent so many years wasting away in. Swallowing he struggled to maintain a passive façade.
“Lean forward.” But before Red could choose whether he would listen, the masked man pushed him forward by planting a hand on the center of Red’s back and pushing him towards the table. Red contained a flinch when he heard the metal of a knife scraping across its sheath. The zip tie holding his hands behind his back was quickly cut through.
“Stay here.” The man said putting the knife back in its sheath and walking towards the door.
Once the man was gone, Red rubbed his sore wrist. The zip tie had added to his already bruised wrist. Closing his eyes for a second he tried to center himself, to push the nervousness and claustrophobia out of his mind. He could do this, he was the Concierge of Crime.
Sometime later the door opened again, forcing Red to open his eyes to see who was walking into the room.
“Hello, Raymond.” Veor once black hair was completely gray, and he walked with a pronounced limp as he moved into the room. “Sorry about the hoops to get here. You understand we have to be cautious.”
Red forced a smile on his face, “You could have just asked my guy to stop the car instead of ramming us off the road.”
“Where is the fun in that.” Veor responded pausing to study Raymond, “Your other two people are alive and well. Already have been picked up by the FBI.”
“That is unfortunate.”
“Not really since you are working with them.” Veor said, “But I won’t hold that against you. I have flirted with a few agencies over the years to further my business. I cannot hold it against you that you wanted out of the hell hole they had you in. I was quite surprised you hadn’t somehow escaped.”
“This time was a bit different.” Red said, “You look well.”
“Bollocks.” The Russian responded, “We are old men Raymond. Relics from the Cold War using what little power we have left to keep above water.”
Red nodded his head letting Veor talk, he knew the man liked to hear himself talk.
“What do you want me to do with the gentlemen we brought with you?” Veor asked.
Red did not know for sure. He would like to see the Constant suffer, but right now he had more pressing matters. So he ignored the question and changed the subject to what he was here for, “The attacks, the US government seems to think you might be behind them, or know who is.”
Veor laughed, “blame the old Russian. Should have known the villains in the TV shows and movies were becoming Russian again.”
Red chuckled at Veor statement, as it had been something the old Russian had went on about for days when they had meant in China. The hidden propaganda in US films and TV. How the bad guys in the movies and TV always seemed to reflect who the government thought was the most current enemy of the US.
“So you are saying you are innocent.”
“Yes.” Veor said, “These attacks bring me nothing. Mother Russia is gone. She will not be back in my lifetime. Maybe that is for the better for now. What is coming back in her place may be stronger.”
“Do you know who might be behind them?” Red asked not feeling like discussing world politics right now, especially since he was out of the loop of what was going on in the world.
“No. But you may want to contact an old friend of yours. She might have some information.”
“Who is that?” Red asked shifting on the metal chair.
“Katrina Rostova.” Veor said, “I believe her daughter is the reason you are working with the FBI and your freedom of course. Though we both know they won’t give you that no matter what happens.”
“Katrina is dead.”
“Not so much.” Veor responded, “And not in the walking dead type of life, she faked her death.”
“She would not have…”
“She did Raymond.” Veor said, “I found out about a decade ago. She faked her death and came back first as a housewife. She married a rural veterinarian.”
“Where is she?” Red asked wondering how he never found out about her being alive.
“I am not sure you will want to find her,” Veor said.
“Why?”
“She is very much the worse of what they trained her to be.” Veor said, “Someone killed her husband. Viciously. She went a bit crazy after that, as you say. Word is she took over for Bout after your government imprisoned him.”
“I would have known…”
“But would you? She fooled you twice now, what makes you think she could not a third time?”
“Where can I find her?”
“I am not confident.” Veor said, “She has come after me a few times, wanting to take out what little operations I have left.”
“Do you think she will come for me if she knows I’m looking for her?”
“Maybe.” Veor said, “Who knows the woman is crazy. But after losing two husbands, can you blame her.”
“Who killed her last husband?” Red asked.
“A South African by the name of Lethabo Xulu. I believe it is the same South African that paid to have you killed by that African Arms dealer.”
“Why? What did she do to him?”
“When Mother Russia and the US were fighting over influence in South Africa, his father became a causality. It is not sure which side killed him, as he was playing both sides. Katerina had been suspected as the killer, but there was no evidence.”
“And what was his problem with me?”
“I believe you killed his brother who ran a brothel in another African country.”
Red knew very well who it was because he had only killed people in one brothel in an African nation, and it was the one he had rescued Dembe from.
“Are you sure it is Katarina Rostova?” Red asked not believing it. He had heard rumors years ago, but never found evidence.
“Yes.” Veor said, “I have spoken with her on a few occasions, after her husband's death. She asked me about you.”
“What did she want to know?”
“She wondered if at first, it had been you, as revenge for leaving you in the mess after faking her death.”
“She knows it wasn’t me?” Red was shocked she would think he would after her, after all these years.
“Yes. She realized after we talked that it was crazy.”
“Can you get in contact with her?”
“I can try.”
“What makes you suspect she has something to do with the attacks.”
“She turned dark after her husband's death. She started working with extreme groups, wanting to make the world pay.”