A Bloody Storm: A Derrick Storm Short Read Online Free PDF Page B

with her. She was unconscious.”
    “A nurse?”
    “A nurse and two gentlemen. One was carrying her. He was a big fellow.”
    Speaking into his cell phone, Cumerford said, “Oh my God! Someone’s abducted her! We’ve lost Agent Showers!”

CHAPTER SIX
    President’s Office
    Senate Office Building inside the Kremlin
    Moscow, Russia
    Hanging on the wall directly behind President Barkovsky’s desk inside his Kremlin office was the Russia Republic’s coat of arms. The red seal had a double-headed, golden eagle in its center. In one sinister talon, the bird was clutching a scepter. An imperial crown was in the other talon. There was an overlay of Saint George on a horse about to slay a dragon in the center of the crest.
    Barkovsky hated both his antique presidential desk and the seal, but especially the seal. It had been adopted in 1993 by his predecessors, after the collapse of the Soviet Empire. The reformers had stripped away the more familiar hammer and sickle and its motto:
“
Workers of the World, Unite.”
    “What does Saint George slaying a dragon have to do with modern Russia?” Barkovsky frequently complained to visitors. The legend had been brought back from the crusades in Libya. Why had the country’s leaders put a crusader on a national emblem when there were so many better choices? Barkvosky felt he might as well be on that seal, but certainly before St. George. He had done more for Russia.
    Barkovsky had just returned to his office after having a light lunch, when there was a rap on his door and his chief of staff, Mikhail Sokolov, entered, saying: “I have news.”
    “First answer me this,” Barkovsky replied. “I wanted Ivan Petrov interrogated and killed. I wanted the Americans blamed for his murder. What do our people in London do? They sent three assassins to shoot him at a public rally! How is that blaming the FBI? And then they failed to kill him! And now Petrov and Lebedev are dead, and only the two Americans survived.”
    “Petrov was not supposed to be killed at the rally,” Sokolov explained. “The plan was for our men to ambush Petrov and the Americans after the rally when they were returning in a convoy to Petrov’s English estate. Petrov’s security chief was helping us. She was supposed to make it look like the two Americans killed Petrov and two of his security guards before they were fatally wounded. Only the security chief and Lebedev were supposed to survive the attack. They would be the only witnesses and would interrogate Petrov about the gold before killing him.”
    “If that was the plan, then why did our men begin shooting at the rally?”
    “Because they were recognized by the Americans in the crowd before Petrov began his speech. This Good Samaritan—this unidentified CIA man—was about to confront one of them. Our man panicked and began shooting.”
    “It’s a total disaster. Now the entire world is blaming me, and why not? The men who London hired for this job were all ex-KGB, and all were total idiots. This has become an international incident. And we still have no idea where my gold is located.”
    “Ah, but we do. That is the good news that I have come to report.”
    “You know where my gold is? Where is it? How do you know?”
    “We do not know the exact spot yet, but we will. Our people in England have abducted the woman FBI agent,” Sokolov said.
    “How does that help me find my gold? What use is she to me now that Petrov is dead?”
    “She knows where your gold is hidden.”
    “That’s impossible,” Barkovsky replied. “The BBC is reporting that she was unconscious in the car after the shootings at the rally. She has no idea what happened between Petrov and Lebedev or how they ended up dead.”
    “The BBC is lying. Petrov told her where the gold is located before he died.”
    “How can you possibly know this?”
    “Because we have confirmation. We have a friend helping us—someone who our intelligence service hasn’t heard from for many