Hetman by Alex Shaw Page B

a house but his pride was such that he would not let on. “I am sorry…”
    “Is that all you have to say? Pavel I trusted you, I offered you a real chance. Did I not bring you and your men to Kyiv with me?”
    It was a rhetorical question but Kopylenko answered. “Yes you did.”
    Imyets drank some more then rolled his head from side to side. He had made a decision, he had no choice. “Pavel, you are sorry and I am truly sorry also. If only it had not ended like this.”
    Kopylenko was confused but realised that his life was in danger. “Ruslan Fedorovich please…”
    “Bring in the Englishmen.” Imyets ordered. The brunette nodded crossed to the door and several seconds later re-appeared with Budt, Webb and Snow. Imyets switched to English and pointed at Webb. “You are the husband of his wife?”
    “Er yes.” Webb frowned.
    “Who are you?” Imyets now pointed at Snow with his glass.
    “His friend.”
    Imyets nodded. Placed his glass on his desk then opened a drawer. From this he produced an Uzi sub machine gun. “Say hello to my little friend!”
    Snow’s eye widened, Webb started to shake and the woman screamed. Imyets roared with laughter. “Do you really think that I would use this, in here, with all this hand crafted oak? No, even though it would make much less mess than an M203. So the question is what happens next?”
    Snow held eye contact with the Politician. “Your men open the door and we go home.”
    Imyets shook his head. “No. It can-not happen. Pavel has made a mistake and I am sorry that all of you will pay.”
    Budt stepped forward and placed his Glock against Kopylenko’s temple. Imyets picked up his glass and drank again. Snow and Webb stood motionless.
    “No Officer Budt, do not do it here. You may ruin the rug. Just hit him.”
    Before Kopylenko could make any protest his former underling whacked him in the temple with the Glock and he instantly fell limp to the floor.
    “Take him away. I shall call you with further instructions.”
    “Yes sir.” Budt leant down and scooped Kopylenko up and over his shoulder.
    “Now back to the Englishmen.” Imyets sipped.
    The doors to the study burst open to reveal Valeriy Varchenko. “You keep me waiting Imyets?”
    Imyets smiled and raised his arms. “Business calls General. I am sorry but I have just been attending to a small problem.”
    Varchenko strode across the room then abruptly stopped when he saw Snow. “What is happening here?”
    “These two men broke into my house. As you can see the Militia have made an arrest. I believe that they may have stolen some of my papers.”
    Varchenko fixed Imyets with an icy stare. “You will let these men go. They are under my protection.”
    “But General, they are under my roof.”
    “Yes and they are under my Krisha!”
    Imyets looked confused. Even he dared not contradict Varchenko, a man who the President respected highly. “Then that is what I shall do Valeriy Ivanovich.”
    “Good.” Varchenko turned to Snow. “Go home Aidan.”
    Snow nodded and grabbing Webb’s arm hustled him out of the room.
    Varchenko returned his gaze to Imyets. “Now are you going to insult me further by making an old man stand and not providing him with a drink?”
    “Of course not, please.” Imyets gestured to a large leather armchair.
    “Thank you.” Varchenko sat and the brunette brought him a glass of cognac. “Now a toast before we move onto more serious matters. Za nas, za vas, e za Donbas!”
    ‘To us, to them and to Donbas’. Imyets approved of Varchenko’s words.
     
    Snow guided Webb into the hall and out of the front door. As he did so several large men in dark suits looked on impassively. Imyets own men however did not look pleased.
    “Are you OK to walk?” Snow asked his friend as he helped him down the steps to the courtyard.
    “I may be fat, bloodied and nursing a hangover but I am not a pensioner.”
    When they reached the gate it was opened for them. They stepped outside and it