Black Operator: The Gulag Assassins

By Eric Meyer

The latest epic Shortread novella from bestselling author Eric Meyer.
This is the SIXTH and final book in the Black Operator: Assassin series.

Maria Tereshkova, key candidate for the Russian presidency, is convinced the attempts on her life have ended. She travels to Paris with her bodyguard and lover Cris Rhodes, but the threats to her life are far from over. After just two weeks in the City of Light, the cruel hunters return. Former inmates of the gulag, all convicted of the worst possible crimes, and led by a ruthless former KGB hitman. His name is Vladimir Ushakov, and this time, there will be no mistakes. This is his final attempt, and she will die.

Ambushed in the same road tunnel where Princess Diana died in a fatal crash, Tereshkova and Rhodes play a deadly game of hide and seek with the killers. The new assassins are more cunning and skilled than ever, and they have a single agenda. To keep killing, and the body count mounts as they carve a bloody trail across Paris to reach her. Rhodes must use every ounce of his skill, strength and ingenuity to stay ahead of the assassins. And to keep alive the woman he has vowed to protect.

The author, Eric Meyer, has written many other thrillers, including the recent release: Special Operations – Grant’s War, as well as the previous five ‘ASSASSINS’ series of books. In addition, he has written the popular SEAL Team Bravo titles, the Heroes of Afghanistan series, as well as Echo Six and the Devil's Guard series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swordworks Books
• Release date: Nov 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370240715

Eric Meyer

An internationally recognized expert on the subjects of HTML, CSS, and Web standards, Eric has been working on the web since late 1993. He is the founder of Complex Spiral Consulting, a co-founder of the microformats movement, and co-founder (with Jeffrey Zeldman) of An Event Apart, the design conference series for people who make web sites. Beginning in early 1994, Eric was the campus Web coordinator for Case Western Reserve University, where he authored a widely acclaimed series of three HTML tutorials and was project lead for the online version of the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History combined with the Dictionary of Cleveland Biography, the first example of an encyclopedia of urban history being fully and freely published on the Web.

Book preview

BLACK OPERATOR: THE GULAG ASSASSINS

By Eric Meyer

Copyright 2017 by Eric Meyer

Published by Swordworks Books

www.facebook.com/ericmeyerfiction

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Prologue

He'd once been a blazing star in the Kremlin hierarchy. Vladimir Ushakov had wielded enormous power, and men rushed to do his bidding, on pain of death. He was a smooth, good-looking man who stayed fit by working out in the Kremlin gym. Well-barbered, sharp-suited with expensive, tailor made shoes, he was the epitome of a man both wealthy and powerful. Except it was about to come to an end. He worked for one man, the President of the Russian Republic, and that man wasn’t happy with his performance. As a result, his days in post were numbered.

With an eye to the future, Ushakov had begun talking to the oligarchs about an alternative position, one where he could use the leverage of his Kremlin contacts. He'd already had a few nibbles, although two were from well-known Mafiya barons. He hadn't said yes, and he hadn't said no. But he hated the idea of thinking he failed. He'd miss the power. He'd miss it all. The dizzy feeling of knowing he ranked amongst the most influential and powerful men in the world. It was like a drug, and he’d do anything, kill anyone, to stay in post. Anything.

* * *

Her mind was filled with horror as they pursued her. There were too many of them, and they meant to kill her. Bullets whistled past her head, and the sharp stones littering the ground cut into her bare feet. She didn’t know why she wasn’t wearing shoes. She was leaving a trail of blood, easy for them to follow. She stepped behind a tree and checked to see if they were still coming. A bolt of lightning flashed, and bright light lit up the pursuit. She counted ten, too many to evade. Unarmed, she couldn’t fight them. Her single option was to keep running. She ran.

The rain had been light, but a long gust of wind brought a heavier downpour that thundered down in torrents. She was soaked, and unsure if the icy feeling gripping her body was the wet cold or terror. She ran, and after a few hundred yards, stopped again to look. They were there, and even closer. Her feet hurt, and blood from her injured feet mingled with the rain, forming a trickle that soaked into the earth. Every part of her was in agony. Her mind was on fire, unable to comprehend how she’d got to this place, or even where she was. In the pit of her stomach, she felt the black emptiness of imminent death. A hand reached out to take her down into the dark depths, and with a sob of fear, she tried to shake it off.

The storm intensified, and it was almost impossible to see through the opaque curtains of rain. The lightning didn't return, and she couldn't see the hunters, but occasionally a bullet whined past her, so she knew they were still there. She increased her speed, ignoring the agony of her injuries. Pushing away the near-death awareness, and when she looked ahead, she saw nothing. Nothing save emptiness. She stopped, just in time. Inches away lay the edge of a cliff.

It could be a slope, a sheer drop to a bed of rock, or a river. She was a strong swimmer, and if she dove into a river, she’d have a chance to escape. Except she had no way of knowing if it was a river down there. Or an alligator infested swamp. A volley of automatic fire churned up the ground around her bleeding feet, and she had to decide. Stay where she was and die. Or jump, and maybe die. She jumped. The scream was loud, an eerie echo, and she knew it was her voice. The drop was endless, thousands of feet, and still she kept falling, into nothingness.

A hand was shaking her shoulder. Had someone joined her in her death plunge? Someone was talking to her, a familiar voice.

It's okay, Maria. It's okay. It was just a nightmare.

She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Cris Rhodes, her bodyguard and lover. He was tall, a whisker over six feet. A sinewy muscled body concealing a surprising strength, which he’d often demonstrated over the past two years. Despite his denials, he was also handsome, with dark hair, piercing eyes, and a shock of hair long overdue for a trim. The fear receded as it all came flooding back to her.

She was in the comfortable bedroom of their apartment in Cathedral Towers, Washington DC, a gated community in an upscale area. Cris had insisted on the security of a gated community if she wanted to pick up the threads of a normal life. The rent cost a packet, but money wasn't a problem. Not to Maria Tereshkova, doyen of a long line of wealthy Russians. Despite her wealth, she’d astonished her friends by announcing her decision to stand for election to the Russian Presidency. Her platform was an anti-corruption ticket. Ever since, she’d been hiding, always on the run.

They'd begun to make a life in the spacious four-bedroom apartment, and even visited the basement gym each morning. The reason was not just leisure.

If they come again, we’ll need to run. The fitter you are, the faster you run.

Cris Rhodes took it seriously. He was a former DEA agent who'd met her by accident and become her de facto bodyguard. Later, he became her lover. Despite the claustrophobia of spending so much time in the apartment, his training warned him to be patient. Maria Tereshkova hated the confinement, but she was still scared.

I thought I was going to die.

He looked down at her, wondering what she saw in him. He was a burned out former DEA agent. She was a wealthy Russian, more than just a wealthy Russian. She was a very pretty, wealthy Russian. Slim, pixie-faced, with a curvy body men would take a second look at, and a third. Until they asked her a personal question, and the dark eyes would flash with indignation. She’d shake her dark hair as she speared the questioner with a glare. She was feisty, classy, and she was his girl.

He gave her a hug and covered the wince. The last time they went after her, he stopped a bullet, and it went in deep. The medics told him it had to come out, but the recuperation would be long, so he’d kept postponing it. He had better things to do. Like keeping her alive.

You’re not going to die, not while I'm around.

She flashed him a brief smile, climbed out of bed, and walked into the kitchen. He’d earlier switched on the coffee machine, and the smell of the fresh brew was like a magnet. They sat at the table, feeling the strong dose of caffeine jerk them awake, only the dark circles under her eyes a reminder of her nightmare.

Further inside the apartment a door opened, and Yuri Romanov emerged, the short, pale, skinny Russian computer hacker who stayed with them. He spent most days and most nights in his bedroom, browsing and hacking the Internet. They weren’t sure what he was up to during those long, lonely hours. Except in some strange way, he was making money. Literally. Something to do with virtual currency, Bitcoins. Mining and trading them. The language of his arcane online activities was a mystery.

Did you manage to get any sleep?

Yuri raised his eyebrows and grimaced. "I don't have time to sleep. I'm already on my way to my first million, and with any luck, I'll be able to rent an apartment like this