LUZHNIKI STADIUM
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
About the time Harry was showing Finka out of his office in England, Matvei Federov was over 3,000 kilometers away, checking his watch in one of the VIP suites of Luzhniki Stadium in Moscow, high above the field and overlooking the rest of the stadium.
The stands were filled with nearly 43,000 people, and as they cheered for the Russia National Football Team below, the door to the suite opened.
Matvei turned to see a blonde-haired woman in a suit enter with two bodyguards, who shut the door quietly behind her, but remained posted outside.
The woman removed her sunglasses, exposing glacial blue eyes. A life of stress was hinted in her beautiful features by creases in her face, and worry lines on her forehead.
Matvei stood. "Deputy Prime Minister." He shook her hand. "Thank you for coming."
"Don't be so formal, Matty. I can't say it's a pleasure to be here." She sighed and sat down a few seats over from him, taking in the view of the stadium through the sky glass. "What the fuck happened in Belgium?"
"Things went wrong."
"No shit."
Matvei quelled the anger rising in his chest. "Val, we weren't prepared for the response."
"If you keep telling me what I already know, this meeting will be over, and I'll pull your fucking funding."
"Remember who you're talking to. Keep threatening me and I'll throw you to President Vikhrov's wolves."
"Can't do that if you're dead."
"If I die, Deputy Prime Minister, you and your entire family will be killed." Matvei watched the woman coldly. "Call it life insurance."
Deputy Prime Minister of Russia Valeriya Shumeyko cracked a smile, and she opened her purse to pull out a pack of smokes and a lighter. She put one between her lips before offering another to Matvei.
He accepted.
Valeriya lit Matvei's cigarette first, and then hers. The two exhaled in unison, their sighs sending smoke clouding about the suite.
"We've never gotten along." Valeriya took another drag, and smiled softly. "Even back in school, Matvei - I fucking hated you."
The man peered over at her. "Trust me, it was mutual. Still is."
The pair sat in silence. The crowd roared as one of Russia's strikers kicked a wicked shot that arced perilously close to the goal post, only to be knocked away by the opposing goalkeeper.
The game raged on below them, beyond the glass; but it was nonexistent for both Matvei and Valeriya, who were presently lost in the past.
Matvei flicked ash from his cigarette. "You ever wonder what life would be like if Beslan hadn't happened?"
"All the time."
"That's what keeps me going." Matvei paused. "That's all I have left, Val. They killed Yegor."
The woman glanced sideways at him. "I heard."
"He was ready to die - but not like that. He didn't get to go as we planned. I... we were not prepared for that response from the Belgians."
"Indeed." Valeriya tapped her cigarette on the ashtray. "It was... quite efficient."
Matvei inhaled deeply. "How are things on your end?"
Shumeyko crossed one leg over the other where she sat. "According to plan, except President Vikhrov is considering canceling the visit to the U.S. after Chernyev's sudden death." She looked over at Matvei pointedly. "That was not easy, by the way."
"If it were easy, someone would've done it by now."
Valeriya shrugged. "In any case, I'm going to have to convince Vikhrov to go through with it. We did not make the splash we wanted in Brussels, but we're on the map, now - the world knows we're serious."
"Mm." Matvei peered through the smoke at the stadium's fans, raging over a bad call by the referee. "It was also enough to secure our bid with my contact in India."
"That is good news, Matvei. That man can be trusted?"
Matvei leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "As soon as my men bring payment. And no; I'm not worried about Khatri. And you? Do you think anyone knows?"
Valeriya snorted. "No. If they did, you and I would not be speaking, now. Vikhrov would already have had us gutted and bleeding out in some abandoned gulag."
"So the plan stands."
"It does." The Deputy Prime Minister ashed her cigarette a final time before sticking it into the ashtray, and put on her sunglasses. "I'll handle President Vikhrov. You handle your end of things. Have your people swayed?"
Matvei shook his head. "No. The failure in Belgium actually motivated them."
"Good." Valeriya stood with a sigh. "Have you decided on a location for the next part of the plan?"
"I have."
"And?"
Matvei put out his cigarette and stood. He faced Valeriya blankly. "Just watch the news, day after tomorrow."
"Fine. I'll keep you informed. I trust you'll do the same." Valeriya turned on her heel and began walking for the suite entrance, but she halted and turned back. "And, Matty - I'm sorry about Yegor. We will avenge him as well as those we lost at Beslan."
Matvei nodded. "Thank you. I'll be in touch."
He watched her leave icily. Shumeyko thought he had secured a large cache of explosives and guided anti-aircraft missile launchers; but Matvei had actually worked out a deal to obtain materials to build a portable nuclear bomb.