Boris Koch sat in apparent ease in his Prime Minister's rooms. His finance minister Vladimir Koratov had just returned after seeking advice regarding the negotiation with the kidnappers.
"Prime Minister on consideration I think we should start our negotiations at say 10 million Euros."
"It sounds a little low to me; isn't that what Europa League footballers earn in a week? How have you arrived at that figure Vladimir?"
Vladimir was not sure if the Prime Minister was making a joke or was really so out of touch with what passed as a fortune among ordinary people.
"It has been based on how easily satisfied we expect the kidnappers to be." He said taking the Minister's words at face value. "We pitched it high enough to be attractive, not insulting to their egos and yet still leave plenty of room for upward negotiation."
"How high should we go in your opinion Vladimir?"
"The money is not relevant in any absolute sense Prime Minister. If it deflects a war then any sum would be cheap. Another war would cost the country many billions and set us back decades. What constrains my thinking is the morality of rewarding these criminals."
"Let me worry about the morality Vladimir... However I do share your misgivings about dealing with these people so let me put your mind at rest... Once the child is safely back in Sachovia, I think the kidnappers will have only a brief time to enjoy their profits."
"I take your meaning Prime Minister, so would you be more comfortable if we set the starting negotiation at say... 20 million?"
Koch leaned back in his chair presenting the image of a man relaxed and in complete control of his universe.
"I sometimes think I'm getting too old for all this Vladimir." He said.
"Surely not Boris you have decades of active politics left in you yet."
Koch laughed. "There's no need to flatter me Vladimir... I'm quite aware of my longevity expectations thank you... The reason that I asked you to consider the matter is that I would like you to undertake the negotiations; I would prefer to be at arm's length from this distasteful process. I wanted you to have considered all the implications before hand... May I suggest you try to get them to show their hand, see if you can get them to state a figure that would satisfy their greed. You have my authority to go to 250 million if they won't settle for less than that then you'd better refer to me again."
"Very well. How are the negotiations to take place?"
"Some tedious process, I've given the details to Pyotr at the SSB, he's running the communications. Apparently we will find a phone number supplied via a third party Twitter account. The number will appear when we post an agreement to negotiate. This internet stuff is all beyond me."
"Seems they've got it all sewn up nice and tight... except... will it be a live telephone conversation?"
"That is my understanding."
"Then the SSB might be able to trace the call?"
"I've got Pyotr's team looking into it but time will be against them... We think they are ensconced somewhere in Italy which doesn't aid our cause and I doubt the kidnappers will keep the line open for more than a brief exchange. In any case I'd rather pay up than risk harm coming to the child; my future is intimately tied up with Natasha Kashinka's – never forget that Vladimir."
"No of course."
"Stick by your phone I'd like this wrapped up before nightfall. I'm going to get the SSB to set up the call as soon as possible."
...
In a dark cellar in a quietly anonymous Italian back street, Sophie Laurent had just moved her eyes from the glow of her laptop.
"Andrej they've taken the bait."
"I assume it's the Government who have made the offer."
"As expected... I'm putting the contact number up on the Twitter account now. You've got your negotiation strategy clear? Now we've got this far I don't want any cock ups. To be frank Andrej I would prefer to conduct the negotiations myself."
"We've discussed this already I thought we had an agreement that I would negotiate."
"If it means that much to you..."
"I'm into this as deep as you Sophie... More so. Don't forget that my face is well known to the SSB and those guys don't take kindly to getting screwed over."
"Sounds as if you might be getting cold feet Andrej?"
"Not at all, since you first approached me with this 'opportunity' I've been a hundred percent committed, I've done all the hard yards, don't forget that."
"Hardly... it was me who took the girl from under your friend Linden's nose."
"Linden's just a rank amateur..."
"If you say so darling. But don't let me down, I find it very hard to forgive men who do that."
"Ooh scary..." He said in deference to his bristling male ego.
Sophie did not smile at Andrej's childlike attempt at humour. Instead she narrowed her eyes in a way she had that gave her a chilling expression of cold menace that he almost found erotic in its intensity. Sophie had to put up with him for now, his information had been instrumental in bringing the deal to fruition but once his usefulness was at an end she would dispose of him. It would not be a difficult task; not difficult at all.
"You'd better be careful Andrej... Those friends of yours in the SSB are just puppy dogs compared to me. Don't forget I cut my teeth in Tel Aviv. Mossad takes a certain pride in how well it trains its agents."
"Assassins you mean." He mumbled under his breath as he edged away. Andrej was not a complete fool; he held his tongue from further comment like the good boy Sophie expected him to be. He edged across the dark mustiness of the cellar to the ancient refrigerator that wheezed contentedly to itself in the corner. He wrenched open the door and helped himself to a beer, one of only three remaining bottles of Luppoli Originale.
"Better make that a soft drink Andrej... I need you sharp for this; the phone is likely to ring any minute." Andrej was getting sick and tired of being bossed about by women and he slammed the fridge door shut with an unnecessary level of violence but when he turned back he was clutching nothing more intoxicating than a can of Coke.
In fact it was half an hour before Vladimir Koratov was connected with the number. On further consideration Boris had decided to listen in on the conversation on speaker phone and made himself comfortable in his well used leather chair as the little piece of entertainment unfolded before his silent presence. Andrej spoke in English rather than risk betraying his origins by using his native tongue:
"Who am I speaking with." He said.
"You are speaking with the man who is authorised to exchange a large sum of money for the safe return of Natasha Kashinka." Koratov said with obvious distaste.
"I'd like a name."
"I suggest you mellow your tone if you expect cooperation from me... I really don't see why you need my name but it matters little. I am the Sachovian Finance Minister Vladimir Koratov."
"Very well Minister how much are you going to pay for the safe return of your princess?"
"I see you like to get straight to the point... Let me ask you how much would you need?"
"The opposition has already bid 200 million Euros; you will need to do better than that."
Koratov was shocked by the size of the ransom but kept himself composed.
"I suspect you are not being entirely truthful with me young man but if that is the case then I suggest you run back to Prochniak and accept his offer before he changes his mind. That sum is far beyond what we will pay."
Andrej had been expecting a counter offer of maybe 50 million if he was lucky. This rejection was not the response that he had been expecting and he stumbled like an errant schoolboy trying to explain why he had not completed his homework...
"Er... That's not an... Er... We will need..."
Sophie grabbed the phone from Andrej's hands. "For God's sake Andrej..." She spat before addressing her next remarks to the phone:
"Minister I'm sorry... We seem to have got off on the wrong foot. I can assure you that Natasha
Kashinka is safe and well at the moment... That will certainly not be the case in twenty four hours unless we can come to a satisfactory agreement. If you have an interest in the girl's well-being then please make a sensible offer for her return or she will be delivered into the hands of Adam Prochniak, a prospect which should chill the heart of any loyal monarchist."
"You must give me a figure to negotiate from."
"I think you heard the figure of 200 million mentioned by my colleague."
"That is an outrageous amount of money."
"This is an outrageous situation Minister... I have no need, or desire, to justify myself to you."
"That may be the case but you would be wise to show some respect; your actions are at the extreme end of criminality and you are negotiating with the government of Sachovia not some fraught parents who's child is being ransomed for a few thousand Francs."
"I am fully aware that this is a criminal act and I am quite comfortable with that state of affairs. Don't waste your time trying to arouse feelings of guilt in me, just make your counter offer. I quite understand that my team is in peril for what we have done and I won't hesitate to walk away from this negotiation – empty handed if necessary. If I do so, if you pressure me into that course of action, then you will never see the Kashinka child alive again."
Vladimir turned his eyes to his Prime Minister who urged him to continue with a brusque piece of theatrical sign language. Vladimir eased the sudden tightness of his tie and undid the top button of his shirt before resuming his attention on the phone conversation. A small rivulet of sweat trickled down into his eyes making them sting.
"No no I understand. Let's try to keep emotion out of this. We could possibly consider a sum of say 100 million Euros."
"I really have no desire to drag this out... in order to expedite matters I will meet you in the sweet zone say... 150 million Euros but you must accept the transfer of the girl on our terms."
Vladimir looked across to Koch who nodded with a rather satisfied smile. 150 million was peanuts when he was prepared to go as high as 500 million of his tax payer's Euros.
"Very well... What specific transfer terms do you have in mind?" Vladimir said.
There was a hardly detectable pause while Sophie allowed herself to release the tension that had held her body tight. 150 million was way beyond her expectation she would have been happy to take 50. She gathered her thoughts before resuming the conversation keenly aware that the longer the phone call lasted the more opportunity there was of the SSB tracing their location.
"There will be a new number on Twitter shortly we will resume our negotiations when you contact us again. Remember any deviation from our agreement will result in dire consequences for your little princess."
Sophie ended the call and removed the SIM card straight away.
"I think we can have that beer now." She said.
...
"You did rather well Vladimir."
"It's not concluded yet Boris. I can't imagine what nonsense they have in mind for the transfer."
"It will just be to ensure their safety I'm sure we can accommodate their wishes without hardship. Ideally we need to have the girl safely in our care before any money is transferred; as long as they agree to that then we will let them play their games to their heart's content. We will have a lifetime to track them down."
"You really think they will agree to releasing her before the money is transferred?"
"Probably not but we will have to reach some compromise to our mutual satisfaction. I'm sure you'll think of something."
One floor up from the cellar where the kidnappers had conducted the negotiation, Natasha lay on a hard bed in a locked room. The blinds had been lifted a hands breadth letting in a shaft of jagged afternoon sunlight onto the crumbling plaster on the facing wall. The view from the window was of a street lined with decaying last century villas debased by neglect and decay, by ugly satellite dishes and television aerials. A string of washing hung in the wind like a forgotten streamer while children played a noisy version of Russian-roulette-football with the sparse traffic in the dusty road.
Natasha was secured in a stiff canvas straight jacket which was shackled to the iron frame of her bed. The harsh collar chafed against her soft neck. Slowly she was being weaned off the sedatives that had been constantly injected into her bloodstream and now she was starting to make sense of her situation. Awareness was not a comfort to her equilibrium but she had managed to conclude that her kidnappers wanted her alive. She was just not sure why.
Andrej had crept up while Sophie sat silently sipping her beer, apparently hypnotised by the glow of her computer screen. He wore a mask to hide his identity and stroked Natasha's cheek with the back of his fingers, she might have warmed to his touch had his subtext not been so obvious. He stood over her watching the rise and fall of her breathing. Natasha turned her eyes away from him. He was hiding his face but she knew, even in her drugged state, who he was. It was information that gave her power over him and she kept it close.
"Your people will pay for you soon don't worry," he said at last. "You just made the mistake of being born to the wrong family."
So this is punishment because of my ancestry, thought the princess as the repulsive man tightened the buckles on her jacket. "Does that hurt?" He said with the shallow sneer of someone who had long ago severed the last strands of his humanity. "I can make the discomfort go away if you are good to me."
She closed her eyes tight. What he didn't know, she thought, was that she was not alone in this prison. Her brother was with her. Even in her imagination Gregori was still more real to her than a foul SSB agent ever could be and she let him speak to her, his comforting voice lifting her from her prison and bringing sleep in the comfort of his words. She was in the Camargue again, walking on the beach with her brother, not concerned anymore with who might be in the shadows, waiting to touch her or take her to the hated Country of Sachovia.
...
"Boris... I was just thinking of the oaf who made a hash of trying to negotiate with us... before the apparent brains behind the enterprise took over..."
"Yes?"
"Did you recognise the voice?"
"I recognised the accent which was decidedly of our own country. Do you know him?"
"It will come to me..."
"Let me know when it does... I may wish to invite him to dinner; I'm sure we could engage in an entertaining conversation before he lost his fingernails."
It was already starting to grow dark before the finance minister spoke to the kidnappers again.
"When can we expect to see Natasha Kashinka?" He said wishing to take the early initiative.
"As soon as you comply with our requirements..." Sophie snapped back. "listen: this is the bank account number to which the 150 million Euros will be transferred..." She reeled off a string of numbers. "Did you get that?"
"Of course... Cayman Islands I see... Why am I not surprised?"
"Yes, yes, knowing that won't help you... Please read the number back to me."
Vladimir sighed with frustration but complied with the request.
"Good... When the sum is safely in the account we will make the exchange."
"No that is not the way it will be... No money will be transferred until the princess is safely recovered. I don't need to explain why."
"We are not stupid Minister, believe me such double dealing would not be in our interests. However I can understand that you might be reluctant to release the funds without feeling confident of the girl being returned. We have anticipated this and my colleague has suggested using a person to collect Kashinka that we both have confidence in. The transfer must be kept very low profile. No fast boats, no helicopters, no armed men in dark sunglasses."
"I can appreciate the benefits of that for both of us but a person in which we both have confidence? Is there such a person?"
"We believe there is... one of your own SSB agents in fact. For our mutual security we propose making a rend
ezvous at a location at sea, the girl will be transferred to your boat and at the same time, once you see that she is safe you will electronically transfer the funds to our account. We will then go our separate ways."
"You seem to have thought this through carefully; I don't think we would have any great difficulty with that in principal. Depending on the exact details meeting with our approval. However the complexity will of necessity cause extra delays. You have our word that we will complete our part of the bargain in an honourable manner. But we were hoping for a swifter resolution, is there no other way to expedite the exchange?"
"Not unless you can suggest an alternative that is acceptable to us."
Vladimir turned his eyes nervously to Koch seeking some direction. Koch held out his hand for the phone.
"This is the Prime Minister, Boris Koch; your terms are acceptable assuming the man you want to us to use for the recovery meets with our approval. But if this new demand is anything less than honest then I will ensure that you and your team will be hunted down. No expense will be spared. Do you understand?"
"Your threats are quite hollow Prime Minister. You can hardly believe that we have not taken extreme measures to become invisible once the transaction is complete. However you can be assured that there will be no subterfuge on our part; the exchange plan is simply for our mutual security."
"I'll take your word on that... I accept that I have no option... This will all take time to organise. Where do you propose the exchange taking place?"
"We have selected a quiet location in Straights of Messina some distance off Reggio Calabra. Without giving too much away it is within a sensible range of where the child is being held. We appreciate that it will take some time for your boat to reach the location. When you are ready to commit to an exact date for the exchange please post a message on the Twitter account as before and we will arrange further contact. The child will be kept safe until then. Her condition is not however a comfortable one so we urge you to waste no time... Are we agreed on this Prime Minister?"
"Very well, we will need to organise a small boat from the area. You had better reveal who this confidence inspiring agent is so that we can brief him."
"Not a him... I believe you know the agent in question she is known by my colleague to have a personal interest in the child's safety and we understand she already has access to a craft that will be ideal."
"Her name?"
"Yes of course Prime Minister she goes by the name of Valentina Gussev."