“She’s from Babruysk. You know what they say about women from Babruysk.”
“Actually, in Warsaw we don’t talk about women from Babruysk that often. In fact, it’s probably closer to never. Can we get on with our business, please?”
“My dear, dear Tomasz,” Kushner replied. “What good is all the money we made, andallthe risks we took, if we cannot enjoy ourselves?”
“Pavel, we have known each other for many years, so I hope you’ll appreciate my being comfortable enough with you to be frank. Knock off the bullshit. Do you have something for me, or not?”
“What Ihaveis a prediction for you. Within a year, unless you loosen up, you will be in a retirement home.”
The Pole shook his head. “Of all the meetings I have ever had, this is the one I should have brought a gun to. You’d better have more than just a prediction in that briefcase, old friend.”
Kushner smiled. “Would I disappoint you,old friend?” he asked, opening the case to show him what was inside.
Wójcik removed the file folder from his own briefcase and compared the pictures Kopec had given him to what he was now looking at. It was a perfect match. Kushner appeared to have secured the components from one of the upgrade kits.
“Where did you get that?”
The Belarusian shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. I told you. There are only a few people in Belarus who could handle something like this.”
“Where are the rest of the kits?”
“They’re safe.”
“I paid you one hundred thousand dollars to locate them,” said the Pole.
“Which I did,” Kushner replied. “I even brought one here to prove it to you. If you have a buyer interested in the entire lot, I’d be happy to let my source know.”
Wójcik looked at him. “So now you’re the broker on this deal?”
“As far as you’re concerned, yes.”
“Who has the upgrade kits?”
“My dear Tomasz, it would be highly unethical of me to divulge that information,” said the Belarusian.
Wójcik felt a wave of nausea coming over him. Kopec was going to be extremely angry at this development.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to remain calm. “How about this? Let’s go downstairs to my room. I’ll take a few photographs of the merchandise, contact my client, and we’ll take things from there.”
“Can I finish my breakfast first?” asked Kushner.
“Bring it with you,” replied the Pole, removing several bills from his wallet and placing them on the table. “I’ll carry the case.”
Picking up his plate and his coffee cup, Kushner followed Wójcik to the elevator and down to his room.
There, Wójcik produced a small digital camera and took pictures of the components from every conceivable angle.
When he was finished, Kushner shoveled the last bite of food into his mouth, repacked the equipment into his briefcase, and headed for the door.
“Wait a second,” said Wójcik. “Where are you going?”
“If your client is interested, you know how to reach me,” Kushner replied. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Leaving the room, the Belarusian was careful to make sure that he wasn’t being followed. He had been warned that Wójcik likely had a tail.
As he disappeared into the stairwell, a man stepped out of a doorway at the other end of the hall. Seeing that the Pole’s visitor had left, he removed his encrypted cell phone and composed a message. Oleg Tretyakov would want to know everything that had happened.
CHAPTER 60