Chapter 19
Vladimir waited until exactly fifteen minutes to midnight before he dismounted his motorbike and headed for a side entrance to RRE.
He’d picked the lock when he first arrived, so he was inside in seconds, walking down a hallway that led to the elevators in the main lobby.
Right before he got there, he heard the ding of the elevator. He stopped at the end of the hall and peered around the corner in time to see the doors to one of them open.
Lundstrom stepped out and turned toward the main exit, on the other side from where Vladimir stood.
Apparently, the engineer wasn’t going to need a reminder after all.
Vladimir hurried back to his motorcycle. From there, he saw that Lundstrom was already in his sedan.
As the vehicle’s engine roared to life, Vladimir sent a quick text to Popov, then fired up his bike and followed Lundstrom out of the parking lot.
—
Marty had received a message as he drove to the Mountain View Resort, instructing him to wait at a specific rear entrance, where he would be met.
The lot was nearly full, so he had to park at the far end and jog to the gated entry to make it on time. Only, when he arrived, there was no one there.
He tried to open the gate in the adobe wall, but it was locked. He leaned down and peered through the gap by the latch, but all he saw was darkness.
“Mr. Lundstrom?”
Marty whirled around to find a twentysomething man standing a few feet away. The guy wore a leather jacket over a dark T-shirt and a pair of jeans and was carrying a motorcycle helmet.
“Mr. Popov?” Marty asked, confused.
“No, sir. I am Vladimir. I work for Mr. Popov.”
Marty waited for Vladimir to say something else, but the guy remained silent.
“Are you going to take me to him?” Marty asked.
“Mr. Popov will be here momentarily.”
“He’s not in a room?”
“He had a prior engagement and is on his way back.”
“Look, I’m a busy man. I can’t waste my time standing around like this. Tell him to call me, and we can reschedule for later in the week.”
“I think you will stay here,” Vladmir said. He pulled open the flap of his jacket, exposing a gun in a shoulder holster.
Marty froze. “Um, I guess I could hang around for a bit longer.”
Vladimir smiled but said nothing.
“So, eh, you work for Mr. Popov?” Marty asked. When he was nervous, he tended to talk.
“Obviously.”
“Right, right.” Marty nodded, then added like he was joking, “I didn’t realize people in the mortgage business went around armed.”
Vladimir stared at him blankly.
“I noticed you have an accent,” Marty said. “Is it German?”
“Do I sound German?” Vladimir scoffed.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Smart man.”
“It doesn’t sound French. Maybe—”
The sound of an approaching vehicle made him stop talking and turn toward the noise. A pair of black Bronco SUVs pulled to the curb.
“Wait here,” Vladimir instructed, then headed to the lead vehicle.
“Not going anywhere,” Marty muttered.
The rear passenger window lowered several inches and Vladimir exchanged words with someone inside. He then jogged over to the resort gate, shot a don’t-move look at Marty, unlocked the gate with a key card, and slipped inside.
As the minutes ticked by, Marty glanced anxiously at the lead Bronco. The windows were tinted so the only silhouette he could see was that of the driver.
Marty wanted nothing more than to race to his car and get the hell out of there, but the memory of Vladimir’s pistol and the thought of those men in the SUV likely also being armed kept his shoes glued to the sidewalk.
When Vladimir finally returned, the passenger-side doors of both Broncos opened.
The man who exited the front seat of the lead vehicle and those from the second all had similar muscular frames and chiseled faces.
But it was the guy who exited the rear seat of the first Bronco that really caught Marty’s attention. He was clearly older than the others. He had a bald head, a thick torso, and an intimidating scowl that looked as if it were permanently etched on his face.
He shared a few quiet words with Vladimir, then walked over to Marty and held out his hand.
“I’m Victor Popov. Thank you for meeting with me tonight.”
As much as Marty didn’t want to, he shook the man’s hand. “Marty Lundstrom. And no problem.”
Back at the Bronco, a few of the other men were helping a woman who appeared to be asleep out of the back seat.
Marty nodded toward her. “What’s wrong with her?”
“A little too much to drink. She just needs to sleep it off. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Um, okay.”
“May I call you Martin?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Popov gestured to the gate. “Come, Martin. Let’s have our chat inside.”
Vladimir rushed over and opened the gate, then led Popov and Marty down a dimly lit pathway to a private bungalow.
“Something to drink?” Popov asked after they entered.
“No, I’m, um, fine,” Marty said.
“Get me a whiskey,” Popov said to Vladimir. “And one for our guest.”
“That’s okay,” Marty said. “I don’t—”
“I don’t like to drink alone.”
Marty swallowed and nodded. “A whiskey sounds great.”
The front door opened again, and two of the men entered. One was carrying the woman, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her head lolling on his chest like he was her boyfriend.
Popov jutted his chin toward the back of the bungalow. “Small room.”
The men headed into the hallway.
“Please have a seat, Martin,” Popov said, as he lowered himself into a stuffed leather chair.
Marty sat on the matching couch, perching on the front edge of the cushion.
“You look tense,” Popov said.
“Me?” Marty said. “No, I…well, I guess a little. I don’t do a lot of middle-of-the-night meetings.”
Popov laughed. “I do some of my best work at night, so trust me when I say there’s no reason to feel tense.”
The words did nothing to ease Marty’s mind.
“I’m here to help you find a solution to your problem, not cause you more trouble,” Popov said.
“I don’t have any problems.”
Popov looked at him with pity. “Your financial situation says otherwise. Or do you have some other source of income besides your salary at RRE?”
Marty hesitated, then said, “Not at the moment.”
“So, you are indeed living beyond your means.”
“Only temporarily.”
“How temporarily?”
“I’m working on some things.”
“What things?”
“Nothing I can discuss, at this point,” Marty said. “But rest assured, I have everything well in hand.”
Popov studied him for several seconds. “What would happen if I called in your loans right now?”
Marty’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that.”
“I can do anything I want.”
“But I can still make my payments.”
“For another two or maybe three months. Then what?”
“Like I said, I’m working on that.”
“And if those things you’re working on don’t pan out?”
“They will,” Marty said, sounding less than confident.
Popov leaned forward, his hands clasped and elbows on his thighs.
“Let’s be frank. Your chances of finding a way out of the hole you’ve dug yourself into are all but zero.
We both know that. But what if I told you I have a solution that will completely wipe away your debt in a short amount of time? ”
“What kind of solution?”
“One that you are uniquely qualified for.”
“How so?”
“I will tell you, but only if you agree to help me.”
“How can I agree without even knowing what it is?”
Popov shrugged. “It’s either that or I foreclose on your house, and your car, and everything else you still owe money on.”
“That sounds like blackmail.”
“Let’s not use negative words like that. Let’s focus on the fact that I’m offering you an emergency exit.” Popov flashed a smile. “If I were you, that would be something I’d be interested in.”
Marty’s gut was telling him he should say thanks but no thanks, then leave and deal with the consequences. That would have been the brave thing to do. But bravery was not one of his strong suits. “How can I help you, Mr. Popov?”
“Please, call me Victor. And I’m glad you asked.”
—
Twenty minutes later, Marty climbed back into his car and stared out the windshield, hardly believing what had just happened.
From the moment he’d met Popov, the man had given Marty a gangster vibe. Marty’s mind had spun a thousand horrible scenarios about what the man wanted him to do. But none had been what Popov desired of him. And the most surprising thing was, Marty had no problem with the request.
Turned out the guy had his sights set on more than just the mortgage business. He wanted to get into clean energy and was planning a hostile takeover of RRE. Marty’s job would be to obtain insider information that would help Popov in his efforts.
Pulling the rug out from underneath the management team that had passed over him for the head engineer position was something with which Marty was happy to assist.
Marty had been smart enough not to let his excitement show, though. Acting reluctant, he asked, “And if I do this?”
“All your debt will be erased, and if you do a particularly good job, I will pay you a bonus of a million dollars.”
“I guess I have no choice, then,” Marty said. “I do have one condition, though.”
Popov raised an eyebrow. “You are not in the position to have conditions.”
“A request, then.”
“And that is?”
“When you take over, you fire the head engineer and give the job to me.”
Popov thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I can make no promises, but I will consider it.”
That had been good enough for Marty, and as Popov had implied, he didn’t have much of an option. He agreed to the deal, though it did not mean he was going to give up on stealing Emma’s project.
As nice as it would be to have no debt and an extra million in his account, if her idea was as good as he guessed it would be, it would be worth billions. That was not something he planned to share with anyone.
He grinned from ear to ear, excited about the future for the first time in ages, and started the engine. Life was about to get better.
—
Getting Lundstrom on board had gone as seamlessly as Popov had expected. People like him were all the same. Flash some money in front of them and they’ll jump through any hoop you want.
The man’s request to be made head engineer was ridiculous, of course. When this was all over, Popov would have one of his men kill Lundstrom and dump his body in the middle of this godforsaken desert where it would never be found.
Lundstrom really seemed to have it out for Emma Perez, however. Not only had he tried to break into her house earlier, but he also wanted her fired.
This made Popov even more curious about her.
He opened the door to the room Katy was in. She lay on the bed, still unconscious. Aleksei and Vladimir sat on the end of the mattress, looking at their phones.
Both jumped to their feet as Popov stepped inside.
“Any problems?” he asked.
Vladimir shook his head. “She hasn’t even moved.”
Popov nodded but said nothing.
“Lundstrom?” Aleksei asked.
Popov snorted. “He was practically drooling to help us.”
“Should I continue keeping an eye on him?” Vladimir asked.
Popov nodded. “He just left, so you’d better hurry.”
Vladimir swiftly exited the room.
Aleksei glanced at Katy. “What are we going to do about her?”
“That is an excellent question,” Popov said.
“She was pretty drunk. She might not remember any of this.”
“That is not a chance I’m willing to take. Keep her under for now. I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”
—
Across town, Teddy Fay sat at the desk in his bedroom, his laptop open, and Victor Popov on his mind.
He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with the man again, but in case they crossed paths once more, he wanted to know as much about the guy as possible.
After using the back door into the CIA’s computer system he’d created long ago, he entered Popov’s name into one of the Agency’s search tools, hoping the CIA had information about him.
He was not disappointed.
Popov had apparently once been a general in the Belarusian army before transitioning into a private sector oligarch.
Corruption had followed him wherever he went but any problems that came up were blamed on others.
In other words, he was a man who played dirty but had worked hard to keep his hands clean.
The latest entries in his file documented his arrival in Washington, D.C., the previous week, and his subsequent flight to Palm Springs on Friday, where he was staying at the Mountain View Resort & Spa.
The CIA suspected that Popov was interested in gaining a stake in the U.S. power industry—specifically a company dealing with solar, wind, and/or geothermal energy.
Given that several major green energy companies were in the Palm Springs area, Teddy assumed they were the reason for Popov’s trip.
After digesting the rest of the man’s file, he sent a message to his friend Vesna in Europe, asking her what she knew about Popov, then called it a night.