TODAY, WE ARE THRILLED TO WELCOME OUR GUEST AUTHOR, HELEN BRIGHT, WHO IS SHARING CHAPTER 5 OF HER NOVEL, 'THE RUNAWAY AND THE RUSSIAN' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
- Jun 17
- 6 min read
Chapter 5
Kolya Barinov’s POV
I don’t know how long I’d been staring at those closed doors, but it felt like hours. My hands were shaking, and breathing had become a much harder task. Fearing that this waif of a woman may not survive caused a crushing band to form around my chest. My hands, jacket, shirt and tie were covered in her blood, the metallic tang of it saturating the air.
“Would you like to take a seat in the waiting area, sir?” a nurse asked before taking my arm and guiding me to a room next to the theatre doors. My feet seemed rooted to the spot where her hand slipped from mine as they’d wheeled her away, and it took a few seconds for me to move freely.
“Can I get anyone a cup of tea or coffee?” the nurse enquired.
Anyone?
I looked around and noticed four of my guards following me into the room. Jonesy, Nate and Lucas took a seat while Ivan stood guard at the door. When the nurse left to get our drinks, I turned to my guards and asked, “Can anyone tell me what the fuck just happened?”
“Boss, we shouldn’t have let Mr Markos’s guards handle security. It’s a new team. We haven’t worked with them before. Jonesy and Nate warned you against letting them carry out pre-exit recon and lead security before we left,” Lucas said bitterly.
The others all voiced their agreement. Not many people in my position would let their staff speak to them so informally, but that was how I chose to run my business. I trusted my security, and yes, both Nate and Jonesy had told me they weren’t happy with letting Yannis’s new security detail lead. My friend had scoffed at their concerns and had queried whether I trusted his ability to keep us safe.
Yannis Markos and I have been the greatest of friends since we met at Oxford University almost twenty-three years ago. Both he and I, along with Chen Yu and Imran Barhi, had bonded immediately. Probably because we were the only foreign students on our course that year, but I’d spent most of my time with Yannis as I made my way through university.
Yannis had introduced me to my late wife, which was one of the reasons why Catherine had wanted him to be our son’s godfather.
We’ve spent so many holidays together over the years, and my son thinks of him as family. We’ve often gone out when staying with him in Greece or on the island he owns—with only his security to guard us. I’d never once questioned that he wouldn’t keep us safe then. So why start now?
Obviously, his new staff did not deserve the confidence he’d had in their abilities. Yet there was no guarantee, even with the highest level of security, that someone who was really out to get you could not do so out in public.
“The shooter… Do we have any information? Or did he manage to get away?” I asked.
I’d heard further gunfire while I was down on the pavement, shielding the wounded young woman with my body—desperate to protect the stranger who had almost given her life to save mine.
“Franco fired a couple of shots, both hit him in the upper back, but although he dropped to the ground, he got up and jumped into the back of a vehicle. Kevin has the details,” replied Lucas.
“So, the shooter wore a Kevlar vest and came with backup? I doubt we’ll get anywhere with vehicle details. Did Kevin carry out my orders for a swipe and wipe of all nearby CCTV footage?” I didn’t want the police interfering if one of my men had fired a shot. It’s against the law in Britain to carry handguns.
“Kevin hacked the systems of each of the surrounding buildings within five minutes of receiving your order, as well as local authority surveillance. All nearby CCTV cameras were too far away to pick up any of the shots fired, but they should give us a clear picture of the driver at least. As far as we’re aware, there were two calls to police reporting suspected gunfire, but we were gone by the time they arrived,” Jonesy informed me.
“Good! Ask him to run the shooter through the facial recognition programme he has.”
“Kevin said he and Steve are searching through each of the buildings’ camera footage to find the clearest frame of his facial features, then he’ll run them through the programme.” Jonesy paused for a moment before saying what we were all thinking. “What that man can’t do with a computer wouldn’t cover the back of an eyelash.”
We all nodded as a smile emerged on Nate’s face.
Nate and Kevin have been a couple for almost four years. Nate works for me in close protection, while Kevin oversees the technical side of my security. A job he does extremely well. The man is a technological genius and well worth the seven-figure salary I pay him.
My phone was once again vibrating in my pocket; it had done so ever since we’d bundled the young woman into the car. The bullet had torn through her shoulder, just below her collarbone. It would have taken too long for an ambulance to arrive in the heavy London traffic, so I’d given my team orders to bring her to the private hospital where my squash partner was a surgeon.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warning, Nate, Jonesy,” I said, nodding to both of them. “If I had, that poor, innocent young woman wouldn’t be fighting for her life on an operating table right now.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine, boss,” Jonesy assured me in his strong Welsh accent.
“She was hit in the same place as Franco was when we were out on patrol in Helmand Hellhole,” Nate muttered. “Took us over an hour to get him to the surgeon back at base, and he recovered pretty damn quick. We got her here within eight minutes, so I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“But she lost so much blood!” I gestured at the deep red staining my clothes. No one said anything for a moment, though the air was heavy with unspoken worry.
“Did you catch her name?” asked Nate.
“She would not give it, nor would she tell me who to contact. The medical team also asked her, but she wouldn't answer.”
“Perhaps she has no one,” Ivan remarked from his position by the door. Nate, Jonesy, and Lucas frowned, then looked towards me.
“If it was true before, it isn’t now. The young woman is under my protection until she requests otherwise or if her loved ones come to claim her. She saved my life. I will see that she is rewarded.”
“She had a backpack with her. It’s still in the car. Maybe there’ll be something in it with her name and address,” Lucas suggested.
A nurse came into the room wheeling a trolley laden with tea, coffee, and biscuits. Before she left, she pointed out where I could shower and change. A not-so-subtle hint to get me to remove my bloodstained clothing from the comfortable fabric chairs.
I put a call through to my PA to request a change of clothes be brought to the hospital before listening to the numerous messages from Yannis, apologising for the failure of his guards to secure the area before we left the building. He asked me to call him back to let him know how I was, if I knew the red-headed woman who leapt into the line of fire to save me, and if I had any information about the shooter.
I did not call him back.
As yet, I had nothing to tell him. Not about the woman or the shooter. And I did not want to let him off the hook so easily regarding the epic failure of his security detail. A failure that could have cost me my life. One that nearly cost the life of a red-headed, amber-eyed angel who’d just made sure my son had at least one of his parents still alive.
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AUTHOR BIO
Helen Bright was born and raised in Yorkshire, UK, and often bases her novels in and around the county. Whether writing paranormal or contemporary romance, she frequently includes dark subject matters within her deep and meaningful love stories.
The universal Amazon link to the book is viewBook.at/Runaway1
My Facebook group page is:
My Facebook Author page is:
@HelenBrightAuthor
Website is www.helenbrightauthor.co.uk
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COMING SOON: On Sunday, 21st June, we are delighted to welcome back, author and Podcaster, Michael Sanchez, who is sharing an excerpt from his novel, 'Vine Street'.
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