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whether to return or not. He had after all only been there for three months, but on the contrary, ‘uncle’ had been impressed. “Thank you, uncle.”
    “I know how you much you will miss Yulia but trust me she would be able to join you soon.”
    In fact during his time in London Arkadi had not been missing his wife at all. He was quite taken with the Polish girl who worked in the local coffee shop. “I do hope so uncle; it is lonely without her.”
    Lesukov liked this. Having no children of his own his sister’s daughter was very dear to him and he would kill anyone who did not treat her with respect.
    Arkadi changed the subject. “Why is Pashinski called ‘The Bull’?”
    Lesukov held up his finger. “When we were young conscripts together, about your age, we had a very stupid sergeant who asked Tauras his name. When he replied, the man asked him if he was a Bull – like the star chart. I do not know why this offended him but Tauras hit him. You see, the sergeant did not like Lithuanians. Tauras was beaten and left outside in the snow tied to a post for three days. A month later the sergeant disappeared on a training exercise. For my part, I think that he is more like a venomous snake.”

 
    THREE
     
    Fontanka , Odessa Oblast , Ukraine
     
    The best rooms were of course on the thirtieth floor. Here the penthouses had floor to ceiling glass walls which gave fantastic views of the landscaped gardens and private beach. The top five floors were VIP class with private clubrooms. Every room in the hotel had both sea and inland view as the structure curved like a giant wave. The hotel was indeed fantastic, or would be, Varchenko reminded himself, once it was built. Yes. The architect had done a great job of transferring his vision from idea to plans and now to a scale model. It was now the foreigners he needed to turn the model into reality. Even his wealth alone could not bankroll this venture. A man of the world, he liked to think, since 1991 he had travelled to the best resort and gaming hotels in the world. This hotel would not be Nice’s Hotel Negro; it would not be Caesar’s Palace, New York’s Four Seasons, the Sandy Lane of Barbados, London’s Ritz or Dubai’s Burgh Al Arab. This would be the Hotel Noblesse and it would be his.
    Meetings had been arranged with venture capitalists in London, New York, Zurich and Vienna. He had brought, at his own cost, potential partners to Ukraine. The diving would rival Egypt (they would make a fake reef), the service seven star. This would be the new principality of the twenty-first century and he would be the new prince!
    Although he had a tear in the eye and the vodka bottle was empty, he was not a dreamer. Valeriy Varchenko stood, patted the roof of his hotel, and retired for the evening.
    *
    Odessa , Southern Ukraine
     
    Sergey Gorodetski threw the grappling hook over the ledge of the warehouse, making sure it was fast before carefully hauling himself up the wall and onto the roof. He paused, counted to a hundred and when he heard no sounds of alarm or noises from below worked his way forward on the gravelled roof, all the while making sure to keep his body below the skyline. On reaching the edge of the roof, he leaned against the parapet and removed his rifle from its canvas carry case. He inspected it for dirt before looking down the sight to check for misalignment. Making the necessary adjustment, he carefully chambered the first round. It was two forty-five and he had exactly five hours to wait for his prey who was, by his very nature, a creature of habit.
    Jas Malik pulled his trench coat around his body and stepped into the back of the Lexus. Ruslan had kept him waiting. Today’s excuse: the local militia refused to let him turn right… or something... Jas didn’t care why he was late, just that he was. Jas did not like this. His father had taught him the value of time at an early age in Islamabad when he’d whipped him for having the audacity to be late