Page 112 of Boss

Chapter 22

Two Weeks Later –

The door opened and then it closed. Tarek turned his gaze from the window to the men. Vladimir Kovalevsky had arrived. He was wheeled in by his son Yegor. Like Alek Marshall, Vladimir had many sons, but only one that ruled his empire. Yegor was a few years older than Tarek, and the closest person he had to a friend. It was his relationship with Yegor that helped convince Vladimir to agree to the meeting. He nodded his gratitude at Yegor, who did the same in return. Kovalevsky didn’t appear welcoming. The once vengeful tyrant of a man that stood over six-feet tall had shriveled to an intolerant bastard who breathed from an oxygen tank. Tarek found it ironic that both Vladimir and Alek were in the same weakened state.

The meeting spot took days to secure. The feds were crawling in and out of his ass regularly so he couldn’t leave the state. He had to call in several favors to arrange a meeting at the Benson Ranch located near the border in El Paso. He only got a pass from the judge to make the trip because of an office and side business he owned in the area. Still he had concerns that he was being watched.

Tarek walked over and embraced Yegor, and then gave a respectful kiss to Kovalevsky’s cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

“This will be the only meeting I grant. After what your father did you should be on your knees before me.” Vladimir said.

“He isn’t my father,” Tarek corrected.

Vladimir’s brow arched. He looked up at his son and then to Tarek for an explanation of his statement.

“Viktor is my father. I know the full truth. Alek Marshall is done denying it.”

“You know what those government agents have fed you. That isn’t close to the truth. I hear you’re considering an offer from them, to turn against your family.”

“Papa. I told him the truth. Two months ago. I prepared him for this.”

“Why?” Vladimir asked with his eyes narrowed like a serpent prepared to strike on Tarek.

“My family has turned against me. They were going to implicate me and Yegor, to bring us down. I found out what my brother Dale was up too and told Yegor. It was then we decided how to deal with them.”

“I’m listening,” Vladimir said.

Tarek nodded. “Dale tried to kill me. I know you know this. And Alek, the man who pretends to be my father, he let it happen.”

“American values,” Vladimir chuckled. He took a hit of air from his oxygen mask and inhaled deeply. “Whatever happened between you and them, it is family business and you deal with it that way. You never bring in outsiders. And you never turn against them to me. My interests are not yours.”

“I think they can be. I haven’t told the government anything about you,” he said. “My brother Dale, however, will do anything to save his own hide. And Pops… He’s surrounded by lawyers and politicians to protect him. What about your interests?”

“Me?” Vladimir chuckled. “I have diplomatic immunity. Gorbachev made that happen for me long before you were born. Nothing your father does matters to me. He knows the limits.”

“Times have changed since Gorbachev. Have they not? Your diplomatic status isn’t a bulletproof shield. If the feds get my brother to talk, and they will, he’ll give them anything to save his ass. It will disrupt your business, and put a blemish on your international relations with the other countries.”

Vladimir narrowed his eyes on him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d want me to have him silenced. Your own brother.”

“Like I said, they are no longer family to me. I’m the son of Viktor Bychkov.” Tarek took a seat in the open chair so he could look eye to eye with the old man. “I want what should be mine. I want to cross into Bratva.”

Kovalevsky gave him a toothy smile. “Viktor Bychkov was not Bratva; it is not your destiny.”

“It is my destiny to be what my father could not become. To walk into the brotherhood and I will be one of the Vory. And I know the way Pakhan. I know the price.”

Vladimir looked over to his son “Yegor? Have you been given lessons again?”

“I meant no disrespect. I'm serious,” Tarek said and spared his friend from his father’s wrath.

“Are you?”

“To be Vor I must shed the Marshalls. No? So, I am making my offer first. I’ll confess to the insider trading and securities fraud charges. I’ll get four to eight years federal time. I doubt I'll serve more than two.”

“And the murder, kidnapping charges?” Vladimir asked.

“Murder charges are going to be pinned on Dale. They don’t have any reason to pursue kidnapping charges against me.”

“It's that easy?” Kovalevsky sneered.

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