“Is this some kind of joke? Are you testing my patience?”
Grigenko’s voice boomed off the walls of his penthouse office, the lights of Moscow spread out below him. He was screaming into the phone, incredulous.
“No, sir. I’m afraid it isn’t a joke. We lost everyone except for three men.” The voice on the phone was deadly earnest. Yuri Kevlev was a seasoned professional who had been operating a private army for years. He was without question the best.
Grigenko paced to the window, stupefied.
“One…girl…did this?” Grigenko pronounced the word like an expletive.
“She may have had help. We don’t know for sure. But yes, barring assistance we’re unaware of, she killed most of the group.”
“This is not the result I pay you for.”
“No, sir, I agree it isn’t.” There wasn’t much to disagree with.
“Did you send untrained men? Green personnel? How do you explain this?” Grigenko demanded.
“No, we didn’t, sir. These were experienced veterans. All ex-Spetsnaz, as always. No corners were cut. I, frankly, am at a loss…I’ve never seen anything like it.”
This was a disaster. Grigenko sat back down in his executive chair and slammed his fist on the table in frustration.
“I have,” he seethed. The silence on the line was deafening. “Are we in any way exposed?”
“Of course not…I mean, no, sir. We have taken all the usual precautions. Nobody had any ID. There are no criminal files available on any of them through Interpol. Their identities will remain a mystery. Nothing leads back to any of us,” Yuri assured.
“And what are you doing to re-acquire the girl?” Grigenko asked, through clenched teeth.
“Everything possible. But as you know, once a target is alerted, it can become extremely difficult. Especially if they have decent knowledge of tradecraft, which I think it’s obvious this woman does.”
“I want no expense spared. None. I don’t care what it costs or how many men it takes. I want her head brought to me so I can piss on it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Abundantly, sir.”
“And Yuri? I can’t express to you how disappointed I am with how this was handled.”
“I understand. There will, of course, be no charge for the failed operation. And you can trust that I have taken this personally. I will be handling every aspect of the sanction from this point on. You have my guarantee that I will make things right.”
“I thought your contracts came with an implicit guarantee.”
“They do, sir. Nothing like this has ever happened before. It cannot be allowed to stand. My reputation depends on my ability to perform. So I will perform.”
“You’d better.” Grigenko slammed down the phone, fuming.
A straightforward execution, routine, like countless others he’d commissioned, suddenly went south on them and became a massacre? He was flabbergasted. This woman had been given no warning. She couldn’t have known anything. He had been getting daily reports of her movements, and she suspected nothing. Then a team of the most lethal killers in the world moves in to terminate her, and suddenly, she not only gives them the slip, but also paints the streets with their blood?