Read Online Black Harvest (The PROJECT) by Alex Lukeman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alex Lukeman
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calm him."
Iosif had been sleeping with Bedisa for the last six months. At first he'd wondered why she'd chosen him, or why he'd let it continue. Perhaps it was the danger. Discovery by Zviad would have been terrible. The fear added an adrenaline rush to their furious and inventive sex.
The sex. Bedisa was not like any other woman he had ever known. She was unique. What she could do with her body, with his, astounded him. She was beautiful, not the kind of woman who normally found Iosif attractive. He knew he was no prize for looks. Iosif was hopelessly in love with her.
After a month she'd begun to talk about Zviad. About Iosif as the new boss. About what they could do together if Zviad was not around any longer.
Zviad was as paranoid as he was shrewd. He had a servant taste his food. He was always protected. He never ventured far from Moscow, though sometimes he went to his villa near Tbilisi, surrounded by bodyguards. He was not an easy man to kill. Bedisa knew Iosif couldn't just kill him and take over. It had to look as if someone else had done it. Otherwise there would be vendettas.
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Find the woman. Then lure Zviad to wherever she is and kill him. We'll never have a better chance."
Iosif nodded. "I don't know..."
Bedisa ran her hand down over his crotch, cupped him and squeezed. She ran her tongue into his ear.
"All right."
"Good."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In Virginia, Harker listened to Nick on her speakerphone.
"No one heard the shots?"
"The first anyone knew was when a nurse found the dead guard. The room was a bloodbath. The Greek cop we were working with was killed. Not much loss there."
"What did the killer look like?"
"Like a cop. He had Interpol ID. The duty nurse had seen one just like it not long before. She thought he was with the others. The receptionist downstairs said he was well-dressed, polite, short hair and cop looking."
"What does that mean?"
"Hard. Cold eyes, like he'd seen too much. Those were her words. The eyes bothered her. He showed her Interpol ID also."
Across the ocean, Nick waited.
"This doesn't feel like a gang hit, someone in competition with the Georgian bunch."
"Silenced weapon, phony ID, clean getaway. More like an agency of some kind. Mossad, CIA, like that."
"If it's an agency, why kill their own agent? "
"Good question. This guy was no ordinary kidnapper. His brother runs the gang. I think he's after Alexander's loot. Someone had to steer him to Greece. Selena thinks we might discover who it was by feeding out information. See what turns up."
"Where would you start?"
"I'm not sure. Gelashvili shouldn't know about us, so why go after Selena? How did he get a photo of her? And who ordered the killings in Greece? Not Gelashvili. There has to be more than one player here."
Sometimes Harker closed her eyes and thought of her father when she needed inspiration. How would he read it? She pictured him sitting in his study in Colorado, sipping bourbon in his green chair. She could almost hear his voice. She remembered when she'd come home after finishing her second year of college. Worried about choosing the right direction for her future.
"What do you think I should do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"That's not an answer."
The Judge raised his glass and drank, the amber liquid making smoky swirls over the ice. He'd been drinking more lately, since her mother had become ill.
"Yes it is. An answer. You know I can't decide for you. I'd always hoped you'd take up law. But maybe that's not for you."
"It might be. I just don't know"
"What else would you do?"
"I thought medicine."
The Judge laughed. "From the frying pan to the fire. You think law is tough...but you'd be a good d octor . Why medicine?"
"Maybe it sounds naive, but I want to make a difference."
"Law doesn't make a difference?"
"Of course it does."
"Okay," her father had said. "Let's try something. Sometimes I do this when I can't decide what's right. Close your
Iosif had been sleeping with Bedisa for the last six months. At first he'd wondered why she'd chosen him, or why he'd let it continue. Perhaps it was the danger. Discovery by Zviad would have been terrible. The fear added an adrenaline rush to their furious and inventive sex.
The sex. Bedisa was not like any other woman he had ever known. She was unique. What she could do with her body, with his, astounded him. She was beautiful, not the kind of woman who normally found Iosif attractive. He knew he was no prize for looks. Iosif was hopelessly in love with her.
After a month she'd begun to talk about Zviad. About Iosif as the new boss. About what they could do together if Zviad was not around any longer.
Zviad was as paranoid as he was shrewd. He had a servant taste his food. He was always protected. He never ventured far from Moscow, though sometimes he went to his villa near Tbilisi, surrounded by bodyguards. He was not an easy man to kill. Bedisa knew Iosif couldn't just kill him and take over. It had to look as if someone else had done it. Otherwise there would be vendettas.
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Find the woman. Then lure Zviad to wherever she is and kill him. We'll never have a better chance."
Iosif nodded. "I don't know..."
Bedisa ran her hand down over his crotch, cupped him and squeezed. She ran her tongue into his ear.
"All right."
"Good."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In Virginia, Harker listened to Nick on her speakerphone.
"No one heard the shots?"
"The first anyone knew was when a nurse found the dead guard. The room was a bloodbath. The Greek cop we were working with was killed. Not much loss there."
"What did the killer look like?"
"Like a cop. He had Interpol ID. The duty nurse had seen one just like it not long before. She thought he was with the others. The receptionist downstairs said he was well-dressed, polite, short hair and cop looking."
"What does that mean?"
"Hard. Cold eyes, like he'd seen too much. Those were her words. The eyes bothered her. He showed her Interpol ID also."
Across the ocean, Nick waited.
"This doesn't feel like a gang hit, someone in competition with the Georgian bunch."
"Silenced weapon, phony ID, clean getaway. More like an agency of some kind. Mossad, CIA, like that."
"If it's an agency, why kill their own agent? "
"Good question. This guy was no ordinary kidnapper. His brother runs the gang. I think he's after Alexander's loot. Someone had to steer him to Greece. Selena thinks we might discover who it was by feeding out information. See what turns up."
"Where would you start?"
"I'm not sure. Gelashvili shouldn't know about us, so why go after Selena? How did he get a photo of her? And who ordered the killings in Greece? Not Gelashvili. There has to be more than one player here."
Sometimes Harker closed her eyes and thought of her father when she needed inspiration. How would he read it? She pictured him sitting in his study in Colorado, sipping bourbon in his green chair. She could almost hear his voice. She remembered when she'd come home after finishing her second year of college. Worried about choosing the right direction for her future.
"What do you think I should do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"That's not an answer."
The Judge raised his glass and drank, the amber liquid making smoky swirls over the ice. He'd been drinking more lately, since her mother had become ill.
"Yes it is. An answer. You know I can't decide for you. I'd always hoped you'd take up law. But maybe that's not for you."
"It might be. I just don't know"
"What else would you do?"
"I thought medicine."
The Judge laughed. "From the frying pan to the fire. You think law is tough...but you'd be a good d octor . Why medicine?"
"Maybe it sounds naive, but I want to make a difference."
"Law doesn't make a difference?"
"Of course it does."
"Okay," her father had said. "Let's try something. Sometimes I do this when I can't decide what's right. Close your
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