it was armour-plated!’ Varchenko gave him another mouthful of water.
‘Then the bullets were armour-piercing. Valeriy Ivanovich, I did my best… What of the others?’
There had been three others in the Mercedes, each armed with Glock handguns. As employees of Varchenko’s security firm, Getman Bespeka, he had personally met their families and dependants and provided financial recompense. ‘They are all dead, Ruslan. You are the only survivor and that, I presume, is because they wanted you to live.’
Ruslan swallowed hard and closed his eyes. ‘I will kill them!’
‘No, Ruslan, you will not. They want me, not you.’ Varchenko placed his hand on that of his injured employee. ‘You will be well looked after here.’
Varchenko left the hospital and climbed into his waiting car. What he was dealing with here was more serious than he had imagined. He had to find out who these people really were, which meant losing face and calling his old subordinate, Genna.
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