Wallbanger Read Online Free PDF Page A

bad criminal. I’m gonna steal it and hand it over to Connolly.”
    “I sound nothing like that,” she said,
deadpan.
    “Except, you can’t do that, can you, Kizzie?
‘Cause if you did, you wouldn’t get 3-19, which is what you’re
really after. Add to that the fact you don’t know if you can trust
Connolly and you’re in a real clusterfuck, huh?”
    “My life has been one long clusterfuck,
Xander,” her head cocked and she grinned, “You just happen to be
the newest fucker in it, so bully for you. If this little sidebar’s
over, can we get back to Harvey? Is that why Nikolay was on
America’s shit list?”
    He waited a moment before responding.
“Specifically? I don’t think so. I believe he was on the radar for
his being a member of the ICBG, as you put it. Russia left him
unchecked for years knowing full well what his business was, and
America didn’t appreciate it. A lot of those rebel factions he
supplied were fighting against interests the US had in certain
countries. And rumor had it Niko was lining big pockets in Moscow
to stay untouchable.”
    “Well, somebody touched him. Sure it’s not
Amer—”
    “Positive.” The certainty made her leave it
alone.
    “So who else knows about it?”
    “The scientist he was working with, one
Anders Yurevich. Also dead, right around the time Nikolay went
missing. Found at his home in Belarus—bullet in his head. Place was
ransacked, from what I understand. The hard drives on his computers
had been wiped.”
    “And you know this because…?” She waited for
an answer, but wasn’t surprised when one didn’t come.
    “Apart from him, the only other person would
be Nikolay’s eldest son, Sacha,” Xander said, derision evident in
his voice.
    “Whoa. Doesn’t sound like you and Sacha are
as friendly as you and Saint Niko.” Kizzie read further into the
dossier. A little over thirty years ago, Nikolay made frequent
trips to Japan, that info consistent with the modified RDX Xander
had spoken about. She filed the data and waited for an answer to
her question.
    Xander produced another file, this one on
Sacha Sokoviev. “Nikolay loved his son, but he did not like him. He
often referred to Sacha in private as ‘ Chernyi
Russkii ’.”
    “The Black Russian?” The face staring back at
Kizzie from the glossy page held nothing remarkable: dark hair,
square chin and jaw, pale skin. His cheeks were flat planes and his
nose was defined. But something about his eyes made him look a
little off. “Five-parts vodka, two-parts coffee, huh?”
    Xander chuckled. “An apt description.
Russian-American, raised in the States before being shipped back to
Russia at 16. At 20 he decides to make a name for himself, not
wanting to be involved with the father who didn’t raise him. But
you know what they say about apples and trees. So Sacha started his
own hustle; prostitution rings, human trafficking, drugs and the
like—a network that extended through the Baltics, reached across
the Atlantic. It runs like clockwork for seven years before he’s
picked up for the murder of a prostitute in Bali. Apparently,
prostitutes aren’t worth the fuss in some parts of the world, and
after being held for a while awaiting trial, the evidence linking
Sacha to the crime up and walks out.
    “The prodigal son returned home in the last
year or two, and Nikolay embraced him with open arms; slowly began
exposing him to the family business. But, unlike the parable, Sacha
did not change his old ways. The kid’s got something to prove, and
I warned Nikolay he was more of a liability than an asset.”
    “Sounds personal.”
    “In a manner of speaking. Years ago, I
witnessed Sacha’s treatment of his sub and was less than
impressed.”
    Kizzie looked up. “He’s a freak boy like
you?”
    “I wasn’t a ‘freak boy’ when you begged me to
fuck you on my yacht, was I, Princess?” Xander said. He didn’t
speak again until she dropped her gaze. “Yes, Sacha’s a Dom. We
might both be in