Home > High Stakes(4)

High Stakes(4)
Author: Iris Johansen

“And yet you already know that I don’t want to do another extraction for you. It is an extraction?”

Kaskov nodded. “An extremely difficult one that involves a multitude of complications that might suit your talents. So I pulled you out of my file and dusted off all the info I’d gathered about you. You might actually want to do this one. Not only will I promise to give you whatever you wish in return, but it might bring you a certain amount of satisfaction. From what I’ve heard, I think you’re probably restless and bored and ready for a new challenge. Plus, you didn’t have to save Mallory, but you did. Which indicates a softness that may be rather naive but is an integral part of your character. You didn’t like your friend being bullied by Narzoff.” He frowned. “It’s lately been brought to my attention that I don’t like bullies, either.”

“May I point out that your life is devoted to enforcement and criminal activities? One might even call you a bully.”

“Not to my face,” he said softly. “I’d suggest you change your phrasing.”

Nikolai had turned back at the door and was looking at Kaskov.

Kaskov made a motion. “It’s all right, Nikolai. Tanner is feeling a bit pressured. We’ll either come to an agreement or we won’t.”

“We won’t,” Tanner said flatly. “I’m not interested. Who is it? Another scientist you’re trying to get out from under Putin’s thumb?”

“No, though that was a case of bullying in the extreme and would have ended very badly if you’d not gotten him out of Russia.” He paused. “This is more personal. Lara has nothing to do with politics. She’s just trying to survive.” He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a large manila envelope. He opened it and spread a group of passport photos on the desk in front of Tanner. “Lara Balkon.” He pointed to a beautiful dark-haired woman with high cheeks and slightly slanted eyes. “She’s the one I need you to extract.”

“Your mistress?”

“No.” He pointed to another photo of an attractive older woman. “Maria Balkon, her mother. She’s English, and she and Lara are very close. Lara probably won’t consent to be extracted without her.” He pointed to a photo of a dark-haired man in his forties. “Anton Balkon, Lara’s father. A total son of a bitch. He’s head of his own family business in the south Georgia area and does moderately well. Mostly drugs, he’s no problem for me. But Boris Volkov might be a different matter. He’s boss of a neighboring family and has recently taken over several other syndicates in the area and become a close friend of Balkon.” He threw down another photo of a tall, smiling man with sun-streaked brown-gray hair. “Volkov. He now controls the south territory except for a small area he allows Balkon to run. He’d like to move in on me in Moscow if he had the nerve.”

“Which he doesn’t?”

“No, but he keeps testing me. I think Lara might be part of that test.”

“You said she wasn’t your mistress.”

“But he knows I’ve stopped by the Balkon house and listened to her play every now and then over the years.”

“Play?”

“She’s a pianist. Remarkable. I heard her play at a recital in Moscow when she was eleven. She won first prize, which was a grand piano and a scholarship at the Moscow Conservatory. I thought she was a prodigy then. But she never used the scholarship. Her father took her back to the country the next week, and she never performed after that.”

Tanner’s eyes were narrowed on Kaskov’s face. “And therein lies the tale,” he said softly. “You couldn’t stand to see a talent wasted.”

“I won’t deny the idea makes me angry. But it’s a bit more involved than that.” He added curtly, “And it’s not been wasted. She’s still brilliant. She practices four or five hours a day when she gets the chance. She’s twenty-one now, and I heard her last year. I’d judge, if allowed another few years, she’ll be one of the top pianists in the world.”

“You’d be a good judge if you weren’t swayed by other factors.” He glanced at the woman in the photo. She wasn’t smiling but there was an intensity, an eagerness, an odd expectancy in those dark eyes that was fascinating. “She’s beautiful. You’re sure she’s not your mistress?”

“No, and I’m not swayed by anything other than her ability.” He thought for a moment. “Or perhaps her courage. Those are the two things that impressed me about her. She reminded me of someone…”

Sentiment? Not likely, Tanner thought. Kaskov’s expression was as hard as ever. “Why don’t you get her out yourself?”

“I told you, it’s not my custom to interfere with the decisions of other families. It’s not good business and sets a bad example.”

“And?”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “I have to get her out right away. She has to totally disappear for a period of time so that I have time to rearrange her circumstances. That disappearance must not be connected with me.”

“You’d rather it be connected with me?”

“If you’re so clumsy that you make that kind of a mistake. I don’t believe you will.”

“I don’t believe I will, either. Because I have no intention of doing this extraction. Find someone else.”

“If you weren’t perfect, I’d take your advice. But there’s no real reason why you shouldn’t do it. You’re bored, and this would be something to fill in the time until you move on to your next project.”

“I’m not bored.”

“You set up one of your poker games for tomorrow night. You usually only do that when you’re—”

“I’m not bored. And the poker game is another good reason why I can’t do it. You said it has to be done right away. The game is tomorrow night.”

“Cancel it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You have to get her out of there right away,” Kaskov said quietly. “It’s a priority. You can set up another poker game anytime.”

“Priority?” he asked impatiently.

“She might not be alive after this weekend. Volkov’s men are laying bets she won’t be. The odds are against her.”

Tanner went still. “The odds?”

“I told you that Anton Balkon is a son of a bitch.” He shrugged. “Volkov is far worse. He’s a sadistic bastard, and he never forgets an insult. I don’t know the details, but Lara managed to make him furious before she went to that recital in Moscow. It was Volkov who ordered Balkon to bring her back. He had plans for her.”

“Plans?” His hand clenched on his cup. “She was only eleven.”

“Not sexual. At least, not then. He had something more long-range in mind. He came up with a punishment that could amuse both her father and him for years to come.”

“He wouldn’t let her take the scholarship.”

“Oh, that was definitely gone. But he was still going to permit her to play the piano as long as she agreed to go along with the rules of the bet he’d made with her father.”

“Bet?”

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