Chapter Thirty-One
In which Moscow is turning into a pain in the ass for the Morozovs. So is Senator Sinclair.
Andrey…
One week later…
Iris leans over me to look at the Gulf Stream. "Fancy." She whistles. "Is this your jet?"
"There are no assigned, specific jets in the Bratva. We take one based on the requirements of the trip, though this is the one I prefer to use. We'll be bringing a larger contingent of guards with us, we need the extra room."
"Are you expecting a lot of trouble?" she asks, "I thought this was just a wrapping things up kind of trip."
Admittedly, that is how I sold it to her, that we would be accompanying Caroline and Nikandr as Sovietnik to make an appearance with our Brava allies. As well as my having to handle any loose ends with our legal department here.
"The trip was expedited," I admit, "when Konstantin Turgenev contacted Dmitri and me. He's been hearing some news, he said, that would affect me."
"Couldn't he have just told you on the phone?" Iris frowns. "Did he really need you flying halfway around the world to have lunch with him?"
"More information certainly would have been helpful," I admit.
"But the Turgenevs are an extraordinarily suspicious family.
To answer your other question, we always bring more security when our wives accompany us.
" I take her left hand, kissing her ring.
"Because I will be much busier, it’s important for my peace of mind to know that you are well protected. "
She gives me a teasing grin. "Baby, that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," she says in a sweet little voice, madly fluttering her eyelashes.
"You're lucky we're flying with Nikandr and Caroline." I pull her closer. "Otherwise, I'd have your skirt up over your ass and spanking you for that impertinence."
Waiting until I'm out of the car, she whispers, "Ooh, scary Bratva Daddy. Real scary."
Bratva Daddy is a nickname I'd never wanted, but since she's been calling me that in bed, it's excessively hot. Sometimes, of course, Iris uses it just to sass me. I don't think spanking as a deterrent is working with her because she's almost come more than once, wiggling around on my lap.
"Careful," I murmur. "That doesn't mean I won't scorch your backside when we get to Moscow.”
"I can't decide whether to be turned on or concerned," she whispers, "so I'll just be a little bit of both."
Nikandr and Caroline are already on board when we arrive.
The jet has several groupings of four seats, two on each side facing each other, with a low table in between them.
I picked the G 800 because it has the most sophisticated electronic system Kolya can create, so I can do secure business in flight.
"Well, we got one of the prettiest jets, didn't we?" Iris asks.
"Oh, yeah. I love this one," Caroline says, coming over to give her a hug.
"The galley kitchen is bigger. And you should see some of the food they've created there.
It's magical." Iris lights up, and they walk down to examine the meal options before Caroline takes her on a little tour.
The conference room, the bedroom and the large shower in the back.
There's a separate series of seats with steel gun lockers instead of tables, so the guards can prep weapons before we land.
Nikandr and I watch our wives raid the muffin basket. "Does she know how complicated this is?" he murmurs.
"I told her it was for some last-minute legal issues, and that you were handling something as Sovietnik. What does Caroline know?"
"Everything," he says. "It is impossible to keep anything from my wife. But she won't volunteer any information. Especially since we don't know what's in store for us yet."
Java, our flight attendant, announces takeoff, and Iris and Caroline return.
I pat the seat next to me and Iris settles in, wiggling experimentally in the navy blue leather seat.
"These seats are almost too big to snuggle," she complains.
"Look at all this shoulder space.” She looks over at my amused brother.
"I'm used to imposing myself on Andrey, because he's much more comfortable to sleep on. "
Caroline's gaze travels to me with a fair amount of doubt.
"You don't think I can be snuggly, Caroline?" I ask putting my hand to my chest to show how wounded I am.
She and Nikandr look at each other and burst into laughter.
"I'll forget I heard that," I say with a certain dignity.
Iris's eyes sparkling. "Are you, like, bantering right now?" she whispers. "Because that sounded like bantering. You know, light-hearted conversational jousting?"
"Ridiculous," I say, buckling her in and handing her a bottle of water. "Nikandr will be the first to tell you that I don't have a sense of humor."
When we're about two hours away from landing in Moscow, I finally give in to the incessant buzzing of my phone.
Senator Sinclair has been calling me relentlessly, which means he's found out someone got his data center project moved up on the docket.
Because the previous five justices agreed to hear the case, I'll have to deal with it soon.
"Carlisle."
"Andrey, you've heard about the data center project getting fast-tracked?"
"Yes, it came in on the docket update today." I'm thinking about his expression in that gossip picture, where it's clear his eyes were fixed on my wife's tits, and I have a very specific image of crushing his nose, just flattening it against his face.
"...that's why I'm getting everything in order and making sure you're onboard."
Ah, he's been talking. Recalling his rapid downing of two whiskeys within five minutes of conversation about the data center, I'm wondering who's pushing him so hard on the other side. Because this is past his usual amiable Entitled Rich Fuck attitude. I can hear the urgency in his voice.
"I have to tell you, Sinclair, that the initial court findings aren't supportive of pushing the data center through.
The key issues are lack of transparency about who's funding the build and the highly inaccurate data about water usage.
" I give a brief chuckle. "We both know, of course, that you can't run a data center of that size without less than five million gallons a day. "
"The environmental data is-"
"Flawed. It's flawed, Sinclair, and so obviously it's as if your project coordinators couldn't be bothered to conduct any research. Were your partners that certain you'd push this proposal through?"
I can hear the faint clinking of ice and a noisy swallow. "That sounds to me like you're composing arguments to rule against it, Morozov. We had an explicit agreement when I endorsed your appointment to the bench that-"
My tone plunges to polar levels and I make sure my recording app is tracking the conversation. "You expressed your interest in the data center case. At no time was there any indication that I would attempt to influence the vote."
Nikandr's listening to this with poorly concealed amusement.
"He sounds so noble," Iris whispers.
"Right?" Caroline agrees.
Sinclair's reaction is just as chilly. He hasn't served three terms in the U.S.
Senate without knowing how to pivot. "I'll be extremely disappointed if I find out that my endorsement was wasted on someone who is uninterested in the future of our state," he says, sounding solemn and statesman-like.
"This is a matter of national security. I encouraged your nomination, because I knew you were a smart man with a broad understanding of legal code. "
And how to work around it, I think.
"This indifference concerns me that you've taken the bench with other motivations in mind."
"I'm glad you realize, Sinclair, how important it is to understand the concept of following the rule of law.
" I sound indifferent, but I've given this sleazy fuck enough attention.
"You can indicate your belief in this project, of course.
But like every other Supreme Court Justice, I am required to sit through the legal arguments before coming up with any conclusions. Thank you for sharing your concern."
There's a short silence, and the clink of ice cubes as he drains his glass in one noisy swallow. "You are going to be very unhappy if you choose to disappoint me, Morozov."
Any oozing charm he had is completely gone, and now he's just a man who's furious, drunk, and I suspect edging toward terrified.
"Is there someone pressuring you?" I ask solicitously. "Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps just getting the words out."
Nikandr's face is almost purple. I know he's trying to hold in his laughter to make sure that our esteemed senator doesn't hear it.
"We'll talk soon," Carlisle promises grimly and hangs up.
"It looks like Senator Sinclair is calling in favors with you already," Nikandr observes.
"He's a bag of pus," I say, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "But he's also scared. Someone's pushing him."
"From what you've told me, he has a lot to gain from this data center, doesn't he?" Iris asks. “There are companies that have already won the bid for a project that's not been approved yet."
Kissing the tip of her nose, I smile down at her fondly.
I've been doing a surprising amount of smiling and kissing with Iris.
It's not natural to me, yet it seems to be happening all the time.
"Exactly, my clever girl. The good senator is sweating because whoever owns him on this deal is beginning to suspect it's not quite as in the bag as he must have promised them it is. "
"How bad is this data center deal?" Caroline asks.
"It's a nightmare," I say, walking over to the bar and pouring myself a glass of scotch. I glance at Iris, and she shakes her head.
Nikandr holds up his hand. "I'd like a drink."
"Get it yourself." I settle back down with my wife.
"The environmental impact study is sloppy, it’s even worse than the faulty data they used.
The data center is a catastrophe. It will require five years to finish and fifty-eight billion dollars to build.
Sinclair is already pressuring Governor Stone for across-the-board tax breaks for this piece of shit. "
"Wow, it sounds like a winner," Caroline says dryly.
"The case won't be coming before the bench for a couple of months," I say. "I have other things to attend to."
"Yes," Nikandr agrees. "Like making sure that the Moscow Six families think we love them best. I have the pleasure of renegotiating our weapons deal with the Vasiliev Bratva, Benedikt is, unsurprisingly, being a bastard about it."
My hand goes up to rub my neck and I find Iris's fingers there first, loosening the tight tendons.
"There's two key choke points on outside shipments that we can implement if he's stubborn about it.
Cut out his other supplier and he'll be much more open to negotiation. It's going to be a busy five days."
"I was hoping we might get a little free time," Iris whispers. "It would be nice if you had a chance to show me a couple of your favorite places. I know you spent most of your time in St. Petersburg when you were younger, but I'm sure there's some places in Moscow that mean a lot to you."
My wife isn't asking for the luxury shopping tour. She just wants a couple of hours of my time to show her places that have mattered to me. "You are too sweet, darling. Do you know that?"
"Only because I'm on my best behavior now.
" She smiles, batting her eyelashes. "That's why I'm wearing this somewhat uncomfortable suit, with socially appropriate heels.
" She makes little displaying motions with her hands at the red suit she's wearing.
She looks delicious. "You know, like the wife of a fearsome Bratva overlord. "
Caroline covers her mouth, stifling a snort.
"I got a few wardrobe suggestions when I married Nikandr, too.
It's not like we care how we look for a long-ass flight.
If I had my way, I'd be wearing my Vans and a sweatshirt.
It is all about building up your image." She smiles sweetly at an amused Nikandr, who laces her fingers with his.
"You're so going to owe me for that, babe. "
"I can only imagine, plokhoy kot," he sighs.
***
Plokhoy Kot - Russian for "bad car," Nikandr's nickname for Caroline