Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) Read Online Free PDF

didn’t allow him to properly
stretch his long legs out comfortably. He hated the damn in-flight meal and he
hated the security checks at foreign airports. The country not long ago had a
multiple murderer and known terrorist fly into the country and had the welcome
mat rolled out for him. But a hardworking solid citizen and CIA special agent
had twenty questions thrown at him, his references verified and had a pat down
that came real close to second base – all while the head of security glowered
at him.
    Fucking
fantastic.
    What
a way to start the investigation, he thought. Now he was in a taxi cab and
after several attempts of trying to ask the driver if he spoke English was on
his way to Yasenevo to the SVR headquarters. Lucas secured his winter coat more
firmly around his body, the cold climate getting to him even through the layers
of clothes he wore. It wasn’t like Washington weather, he mused, but a deep
chill that cut deep into his bone and refused to leave. He watched as the
driver swerved through the traffic, shouting what Lucas guessed to be a
profanity as his thick, hairy arm rose with a rude gesture to accompany his
remark at a truck driver who cut him off as they drove past Moscow Automobile
Ring Road.
    Lucas
looked outside his window, snow drifted down to the road adding to the already
heavy layer. He guessed by midnight there will several inches on the ground and
Moscowians tomorrow will be battling their way through the sludge. He never
understood how people could believe snow to be so beautiful. Maybe it was
because he had been born and raised in Virginia and that not a year went by
that snow did not fall in the winter months. He had seen enough to last him
several lifetimes and had certainly shoveled his fair share.
    Suddenly
he was jerked back in his seat as the old relic of a taxi came to a stop. He
glanced back out the window and then back at the driver who stared back at him
with a look of impatience on his face. Lucas pulled out two twenty dollar
American notes and handed them to the driver before grabbing his bag and
exiting the cab. He had barely got the door closed before the taxi went
rocketing into the stream of traffic leaving Lucas choking on the exhaust
fumes.
    Once
inside the SVR building, his visitors pass attached to his jacket, his pistol
locked away in a lockbox at reception, he was escorted down a long hallway, up
two flights of stairs and through numerous passageways before they entered a
small conference room. An older gentleman sat on one side of the table, a
seasoned vet, Lucas thought. He could always pick them, something about the way
they held themselves or the arrogance on their faces maybe. He guessed this to
be Director Vladimir Mishkin.
    On
the other side of the table sat a woman who he estimated was in her late
twenties, her hair was somewhere between a dark blonde and a light brunette.
Her eyes were grey. They were both wearing suits, hers with a skirt and were
sporting identification badges. They both stood as he entered.
    “Agent
Gates?” Director Mishkin asked.
    Lucas
moved forward. He wasn’t about to correct the man on the proper use of his
title, Special Agent Gates. He nodded curtly. He had just about had
enough of this God forsaken country, was it any wonder it was so far north?
From the moment he got off the plane it had been one thing after another and
had had a gut full. All he wanted to do was get this case closed and go back
home.
    “Vladimir
Mishkin?” he asked, knowing full well he would get a rise out of the old
bastard. He was past caring.
    He
saw the woman’s eyes widen in surprise. He guessed not many people dared
address him as anything other than Director Mishkin. But he wasn’t most people
and he wasn’t in a pleasant mood. He flashed her one of his grins he knew got
the ladies heart rates going. Vladimir nodded, unruffled and raising Lucas’s
estimate of the man. He had known some that would’ve coughed and spluttered
over the blatant