Which meant that Gabriel and the team were forced to endure two more hours of what Christopher Keller described as “oil babble.” There was a deeply boring speech by an Indian government minister about the future energy needs of the world’s second most populous nation. Then it was a chiding lecture by France’s new president about taxation, profit, and social responsibility. And finally there was a remarkably honest panel discussion about the environmental dangers posed by the extraction technique known as hydraulic fracturing. Not surprisingly, Gennady Lazarev was not in attendance. As a rule, Russian oil companies regarded the environment as something to be exploited, not protected.
With that, the delegates filed onto the escalators and headed to the center’s upper gallery for a cocktail reception. Gennady Lazarev had arrived early and was talking to a couple of tieless Iranian oil executives in the far corner of the room. Orlov and Mikhail each snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray and settled among a group of festive Brazilians. Orlov had turned his back to Lazarev, but Mikhail had a clear view of him. Therefore, it was Mikhail who saw the Russian separate himself from the Iranians and begin a slow journey across the room.
“Now might be a good time for you to take a walk, Viktor.”
“Where?”
“Finland.”
A skilled cocktail party actor, Orlov drew his mobile phone from his suit pocket and raised it to his ear. Then, frowning as though he could not hear, he moved swiftly away in search of a quiet place to talk. In Orlov’s absence, Mikhail turned his back to the room and fell into a serious discussion with one of the Brazilians about investment opportunities in Latin America. But two minutes into the conversation, he became aware of the fact that a man was standing behind him. He knew this because the smell of the man’s rich cologne had overwhelmed all other scents within its zone of influence. He knew it, too, because he could see it in the wandering eye of the Brazilian. Turning, he found himself staring directly into the face that had adorned the wall of the Grayswood safe house. Training and experience allowed him to react with nothing more than a blank stare.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” the face said in Russian-accented English, “but I wanted to introduce myself before Viktor returns. My name is Gennady Lazarev. I’m from Volgatek Oil and Gas.”
“I’m Nicholas,” said Mikhail, accepting the outstretched hand. “Nicholas Avedon.”
“I know who you are,” said Lazarev, smiling. “In fact, I know everything there is to know about you.”
The conversation that came next was one minute and twenty-seven seconds in length. The quality of the recording was remarkably clear except for the background hum of the cocktail reception and a dull pile-driver thumping that the team later identified as the sound of Mikhail’s heart. Gabriel’s own heart beat a matching rhythm as he listened to the recording five times from beginning to end. Now, as he clicked the PLAY icon and listened to the recording for a sixth time, he seemed to have no pulse at all.
“I know who you are. In fact, I know everything there is to know about you.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Because we’ve been watching some of the moves you’ve been making with Viktor’s portfolio, and we’re very impressed.”
“Who’s we?”
“Volgatek, of course. Who did you think I was talking about?”
“The business environment in Russia is rather different than it is in the West. Pronouns can be tricky things.”
“You’re very diplomatic.”
“I have to be. I work for Viktor Orlov.”
“Sometimes it looks as though Viktor is working for you.”
“Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Lazarev.”
“So the rumors on the street aren’t true?”
“What rumors are those?”
“That you’ve taken control of Viktor’s day-to-day operations? That Viktor is nothing more than a name and a flashy necktie?”
“Viktor is still the master strategist. I’m just the one who pushes the buttons and pulls the levers.”
“You’re very loyal, Nicholas.”
“As the day is long.”
“I like that in a man. I’m loyal, too.”
“Just not to Viktor.”
“You and Viktor have obviously talked about me.”
“Only once.”
“I can’t imagine he had anything decent to say about me.”
“He said you were very smart.”
“Did he mean it as a compliment?”
“No.”
“Viktor and I had our differences—I won’t deny that. But that’s all in the past. I’ve always respected his opinion, especially when it comes to people. He was always a good talent spotter. That’s why I wanted to meet you. I have an idea I’d like to discuss.”
“I’ll tell Viktor you’d like to have a word.”
“This isn’t a Viktor Orlov idea. It’s a Nicholas Avedon idea.”
“I’m an employee of Viktor Orlov Investments, Mr. Lazarev. There is no Nicholas Avedon, at least not where Viktor’s money is concerned.”
“This has nothing to do with Viktor’s money. It’s about your future. I’d like a few minutes of your time before you leave Copenhagen.”
“I’m afraid my calendar is a nightmare.”
“Take my card, Nicholas. My private cell number is on the back. I promise to make it well worth your while. Don’t disappoint me. I don’t like to be disappointed.”
Gabriel clicked the STOP icon and looked at Eli Lavon.
“Sounds to me as if you’ve got him,” Lavon said
“Maybe,” replied Gabriel. “Or maybe Gennady’s got us.”
“It can’t hurt to meet with him.”