Page 117

“Not dead. Just retired.”
“Is that what you told Krupin?”
“Maxim Krupin?” Azarov said, feigning ignorance. “The Russian president?”
“It’s a little late to try to play that hand, don’t you think, Grisha?”
Azarov leaned back in his chair and stared up at the American for a few seconds. “We have ended our association. Permanently.”
“What if he feels differently?”
“Then I’ll kill him.”
“That’s a problem for me.”
“I don’t understand. Maxim Krupin is a sociopath who causes your country and the world nothing but problems.”
“That’s true. But now we have him by the balls. That bullshit in Saudi Arabia was all in for him and it didn’t work. If his involvement were made public, the rest of the world would come down on him like the wrath of God.”
“And you can use this,” Azarov said, “to exert control over Russia without creating a power vacuum.”
“That’s what Director Kennedy and the president think. Personally, I’d rather just fly over to Moscow and put a bullet in his head.”
“So you want me to tell you everything I know about his involvement in what happened in Saudi Arabia.”
“It’s one option.”
“If I agree, are you offering me protection from him?”
“Not my job.”
Azarov adjusted his gaze to the glass that looked out into the night. “I was young when I first met President Krupin. A simple soldier from a poor background. His offer to me was . . . everything. Money, beautiful women, power. All things I no longer value.”
“What do you value, Grisha?”
He was surprised by the question and even more surprised that he wasn’t sure how to answer it.
“Not patriotism,” Rapp prompted. “I assume not God. The surfer girl?”
Azarov tensed before he could stop himself. The hope that it hadn’t been noticed was dashed when a nearly imperceptible smile crossed the CIA man’s lips.
“She doesn’t know anything about me. There’s no reason to hurt her.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
Azarov considered the question for a moment before responding. “My apologies. You understand that I’m accustomed to dealing with a different class of opponent.”
“So we understand each other?” Rapp said, standing.
“Yes.”
“And the business between us is finished?”
“Any questions I might have had about our relative abilities were answered in Saudi Arabia.”
The American picked up his Glock and started for the door. “Then enjoy the steaks.”