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  The Fat Woman Attendant on Duty, rises to greet Raf as he enters the Commandant’s Office. She stands, as if she is at attention, recognizing Raf, slides open the Plexiglas panel on the window and leaves. Raf takes his place in the chair, smokes his cigarette, waits...

  An austere, windowless accommodation of cold stone. Toilet, bed, chair and writing table. Separated by a wall of bars, Oleg Razhin, a balding, sixtyish caricature of Hannibal Lecter sits, in the dark, facing away, his back to the barred door. Razhin's head is down, his eyes fixed on the floor. Raf appears exhausted, trying to catch a glimpse of the man.

  Raf and Razhin stand face to face, Razhin in the tiny cell, and Raf in the tiny corridor. Razhin smiles and extends his hand through the bars.

  “Tavarish. Drug.” (Comrade, Friend.)

  “I am no longer your comrade or your friend.”

  “My dear Raf. We may be Czars, but we are not Gods. You can't change what you are. Or what you have done. And, after all, it’s what you have done that makes you what you are, isn't it, Raf?”

  “Let's get on with it.”

  “Didn't you miss me? How long has it been? Well, life goes on. I hear you're getting married again. Is it the fourth time or...no matter, congratulations. If I had a drink in this filthy pit I'd toast to you and your new bride. You were always a champion with the ladies...always had... that, what do you call it? That magic...touch...always made them quiver...” He pauses and looks at Raf. “Trying to fill the bottomless pit, eh Raf, deceive yourself again? That you're capable of love, or is it just to forget?”

  “Forget?”

  Razhin, his blood boiling, spits, “FORGET ME, ERASE ME, FOR SEVEN YEARS...DENY MY EXISTENCE, DENY OUR PURPOSE, OUR ACTIONS, OUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS.”

  “You crossed the line.”

  “Your reasons are so shallow. “

  “My reasons are so deep, and dead.”

  “What you call murder, I considered sacrifice and you sold out to the devil, riding the coattails of corruption, you gained power in the corrupt regime.” Raf, cuts him off, taking Daria’s “Daughter without a Head picture out of his jacket.

  “Enough! I'm not here to visit with you.” Raf thrusts the picture at Razhin's chest. Razhin looks at it, unemotionally.

  “Ah yes, that's right. Perhaps a true spark from the heart? Having a child -- it's not very easy. Always worried about them. Where are they, are they safe? Crossing the street, taking the subway, going to school. It's a dangerous world out there - full of hazards. As a father myself, I can sympathize.” The anger and rage builds up in Raf. He leans in very close to Razhin, ominously.

  “You guarantee her safety and I swear you walk out of here in thirty minutes.”

  “Oh, swear by something you haven't wronged. You do realize what will happen to her if I'm not safely conducted out of here?”

  “Here are the signed release papers, he says, holding them and shaking them at Razhin. “Look at them. Look! Razhin He fingers the picture of Daria and the release papers in each hand.”

  “Ah, Paper. What a valuable commodity. People live for paper. And they die for paper. What did you sacrifice for this piece of paper, my dear friend?” He pauses, then says, “I hope it’s not too late.” Raf reaches inside the bars, grabbing Razhin's throat, pinning him against the bars. Razhin drops Daria's picture. Choking, he smiles an evil grin.

  “You will let her go now, or I will erase you from the earth.” Razhin laughs through the choke hold, a kind of deathly wheeze, as if he doesn’t care whether this is his last breath, savoring the moment.

  “That's the old friend I know and love. You're not a stupid man, Raf. You knew this would happen. You decided your daughter's fate years ago. “

  “Call off your dogs, Razhin, call then!” Raf releases the choke hold and hands Razhin his cell phone.

  Razhin, dialing the phone, quips, “Didn't you know, Raf, lines were meant to be crossed. What fun would life be if we never crossed the lines. If we stayed in the boundaries that some other "moral" person draws for us, like obedient sheep.” In the phone, “Tell them to her go.” “Anyway, I enjoy hurting people, especially the ones who deserve it. That's not why I'm here. I'm here because someone else with no morality signed a piece of paper. But, unlike your new friends, Raf, I do keep my word. Once I'm free and safe, we will give you her location.” Razhin smiles with his eyes. “Does it bother you? What you've done? What you're about to do?”

  “Every day. Every minute.”

  “But why? It’s in your nature. You’re like the scorpion who killed the frog. Doesn't this get the blood going, Raf? Isn't it exciting? Just like old times.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “It's like a drug.”

  “You disgust me...”

  “Disgust you? But, we're so alike, you and I. Why is it that I am in here and you are out there?”

  “I have nothing left to say to you...Prashai.” Raf takes back the photo of Daria and the release papers. Razhin yells after him, the words bouncing off the red walls as Raf walks down the corridor.

  ”If there's a devil, we're sure to see each other again—in hell!”

  Raf walks through the administrative offices of the prison. People look up from their work, respectfully. He approaches the warden's office.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Larin, says the Warden’s Secretary.

  “Good afternoon.” Raf walks into the office without an invitation. None is needed. He presents Razhin's release papers to the warden. The warden looks at them, then at Raf. He can’t believe this animal is being released, but it’s not his duty to question it.

  “Everything looks to be in order.” The Warden signs the papers, and stamps them with the prison seal.

  CHAPTER 25

  Andrew looking frantically around the barge to see if Daria is there, somewhere.

  “Doesn't he know that the student is always better than the teacher? It’s a law of nature--called succession. I'm going to be a Czar here, says Nikolai. Daria looks at him, as he holds a syringe, pushing the liquid out of the needle. She struggles as he administers the sedative.

  “You're just a thief.”

  “I'm very disappointed that you think of me this way.” Nikolai’s phone rings. “Da, ponyal.” Nikolai strokes Daria's hair. He kneels in front of her.

  “You know, Daria, you could have been my Czarina. They say I have to let you go. What a pity...but we still have some time to ourselves....” Andrew spots them from a crack in the window, and runs around until he finds a way in.

  Nikolai strokes Daria's shoulder. He moves forward to kiss her and she moves her head away. Andrew finds the door to the room. He tries the knob. It's locked. F. Nikolai kisses Daria's lips as she falls unconscious, and moves his hand down from her shoulder. At that very moment, Andrew kicks in the door. A startled Nikolai looks up at Andrew, who is coming at him like a charging bull. WHAM! Andrew slams into Nikolai, knocking him off his feet. The two men struggle. Nikolai tries to reach for – a knife, in Nikolai's jacket pocket. He can't reach it. Andrew has him pinned down. Nikolai struggles against Andrew's hold. Daria sits slumped in the chair, straining to see what is going on as her consciousness fades. Nikolai breaks free from Andrew's hold and runs to Daria, pulling out the knife and holding it to her throat. A trickle of blood seeps from his nose.

  “What now, American hero?”

  Andrew, trying to mask his terror, says, “The police are on their way.” Nikolai laughs hysterically.

  “The police! Can't you think of anything better than that? I thought you were a big shot lawyer.” He presses the point of the knife against Daria's throat. Think Andrew!

  “Put the knife away Nikolai. I don't think your boss would appreciate your damaging the hostage... Not until it’s done.” The sounds of sirens echo outside on the streets. Nikolai, nervous and distracted, lets his guard down for a split second. Andrew, taking advantage of the window of opportunity, lunges at Nikolai, grabbing his knife arm, twisting it over his head as the weight of his body sl
ams Nikolai to the ground. The knife clacks away onto the floor. Andrew slams Nikolai's head against the ground, again and again, until Nikolai lays still. He unties Daria and takes her in his arms. She falls into them limp from the drug, but still barely conscious. He tries to revive her, but she is fading.

  “Daria... Daria...” He runs with Daria to the barge entrance. Andrew begins to carry Daria off the barge. The Thugs return from their break, and head toward the barge. Andrew sees the thugs, turns away from the main entrance of the barge, looking for an alternate route. He finds one, and carries Daria off the barge, quickly looking for a means to escape. A Speed Boat, docked nearby, provides the means. Andrew goes toward the boat, sets Daria in softly, covering her with his jacket. He fires up the motor. The Thugs discover Nikolai. Daria's chair is empty, the vestiges of the ropes that bound her fall from it like broken branches falling from a tree. They hear the Speed Boat, and run to pursue it, guns drawn, as Andrew speeds away, a cold spray of water churning.

  CHAPTER 26

  The sally port door of the prison opens and Razhin walks through it, a free man. He snorts like a bull, steam shooting out his nostrils into the moonlit frozen air. Free at last, but much to do. First the traitorous bastard has to pay. Then that manipulative bitch. No traces must be left of his pact with the harpy. Razhin looks up at the moon, smiles and stretches his arms as if he had wings, finally able to move outside the confines of the tiny cell that has been his home for years. Then the stabbing pain in his back. What is it? A heart attack? Not now, not yet. So much to do. No! No! It can’t be…

  Razhin’s masked attacker pulls the long knife from its sheath between Razhin’s shoulder blades. Through bone and muscle it went crashing in, and is as much struggle to pull out as Razhin’s thrashing, spurting body hits the ground face first. The attacker fixes a smiling green eye into Razhin’s dying blue stare.

  Four black cars fly into the barge area. Raf's suited henchmen with necks like tree trunks surround the barge, and whip out their two way radios. They go in. The henchmen surround the unconscious Nikolai at gunpoint. The leader flips out his cell phone.

  Inside his car, Raf answers his cell phone and hears the terrible news that Daria is again missing, and that Nikolai has betrayed him.

  “Nou shto? Nikolai? Gde ana? (What are you talking about? Where is she? Nikolai?) To the driver, “Domoi! Bistro! (Home, and hurry!) The boat glides through the freezing water, Andrew shivering at its helm. The unconscious Daria, peacefully sleeps through the chaos, a winter doll covered in Andrew's jacket and a light falling of snow. The roar of the pursuing boat is getting closer and closer.

  Andrew pushes at the controls, futilely trying to get all the possible power out of the boat, but the pursuers burst out of the shadows. He hears gunfire, and, looking back, swerves to dodge his attackers. The pursuing boat comes alongside, a Thug training his aim at Andrew. Andrew turns, ramming the boat, toppling the Thug into the water. The pursuing boat hesitates, but then continues. The pursuit is still on.

  Andrew spots Raf’s estate ahead. Almost there. Now what? Andrew pilots the boat toward Raf's estate, zipping the boat into the boathouse. The pursuers follow. Andrew carries the now limp body of Daria from the docked boat through the snowy grounds of the estate, struggling through the deep snow, at times slipping in it. Raf’s car appears through the front gates. They open and he parks. The Security Guards flash lights in Andrew's direction. Raf exits the car and runs to them, his henchmen right behind him. Seeing the oncoming threat, they try to push Raf down, but he runs to Daria and Andrew. The Henchmen fire on the pursuer as Raf takes Daria from Andrew's arms, just as he collapses. The Guard helps Andrew to his feet, and follows Raf, carrying Daria, into the house.

  CHAPTER 27

  Daria lies peacefully in her bed back at Raf's house. Raf, Andrew and the Doctor are around her bedside.

  “How is she?” Raf asks the Doctor.

  “She's been drugged. She'll sleep for a while. Be gentle, she may be in shock. Call me if you're concerned about anything, but from her physical examination she has not been injured.” Raf's concerned, just looking at her.

  “Someone should stay with her. The next hours are critical.” Raf and Andrew answer, simultaneously.

  “I'll be here.”

  “I'll be here.”

  Raf watches over Daria in a chair by her bed. Andrew brings coffee to Raf, who sits by the dimming light of the window. Andrew dozes in a chair by the pitch black window. Andrew sleeps in his chair by the window, unshaven.

  Through the fog, Andrew and Daria are dancing in the middle of the dark room. Moonlight pours through the windows, reflecting off the hardwood floor. Daria runs her fingers through Andrew's hair. The moment is sweet and sensual. Andrew slowly draws his fingers down over Daria's face, gently caressing her forehead, her eyes, her lips. Her breathing slows. They dance silently, her hair swaying in the soft light. Their bare feet swish against the highly polished floor. Sensuously, Daria's night shirt lifts up revealing a small portion of her skin as Andrew presses into her. Their bodies touch and part and touch again while they dance. She slowly closes her eyes.

  Andrew is mesmerized the way the moonlight casts a warm glow over her alabaster skin, her face so peaceful, serene. Her full lips move slightly, her eyes still closed. Andrew leans into Daria and gently places his lips softly over her left eye, giving her the gentlest kiss, then moves to the right one, giving it the same attention. Then, she stops. Her eyes close. She stands absolutely still. Andrew's hands move to her lowest part of her back, lifts her shirt up just enough to feel her skin against his bare hands. Instead his hands are slick with blood. Horrified, he stares down at his hands.

  Andrew is jolted back to reality, gasping at the air. He'd fallen asleep in the chair next to her bed. He was having a nightmare. Still distressed, he looks up toward Daria on the bed and finds her big open eyes staring back at him.

  “Andrew?” He moves over to her. Reaches for her hand squeezing it gently, kissing her tenderly on her face.

  “You're back, you're back...” She tries to speak. “Shh, don't talk, it’s alright now.

  They'll never hurt you again, I promise...its over.” Tears flow down her face and his. Daria tries to sit up, still feeling out of it slightly, she reaches for him. She looks at Andrew, almost through him. Dawn sifts in the window. Daria gently strokes his head.

  “Long before we met, I painted you in my mind.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, it was you... this man I saw in my mind. I thought I would never see you. But you're here...”

  CHAPTER 28

  Natalia sits in her suite, sipping tea, surrounded by her packages. She casually watches the television. The reports are in Russian, translated to French. “EURO NEWS HEADLINES-- ON SCREEN: An image of Moscow's Red Square. Another of Oleg Razhin.

  “Russian businessman Oleg Razhin was found dead today...” Natalia bites on a chocolate, casually glancing at the screen. She picks up a cup of tea, daintily, and sips it. The TV continues, “Razhin, who was just released from a prison in Moscow where he was serving an indeterminate sentence, was found dead at 7:00 a.m. this morning by street sweepers. Authorities now say...” The phone rings, and she answers.

  “Prevet, katyonac.”

  “Natashka, how are you my dear?” says Raf.

  “Darling, I met with the jeweler today and I just can't decide, so I need your help. Should I get the matching rings with colored diamonds or the ones with just the clear diamonds?”

  “Natasha, I want you to be happy. Get both and we will decide later.”

  Raf is seated in the living room, a bottle of vodka and a glass in front of him, along with a plate of pickles. He hangs up from Natalia, as Andrew enters the room. Raf is already a bit drunk.

  “She's sleeping?” he asks.

  “Yes.” Raf holds the glass in front of his eyes.

  “What color do you see?”

  “Color? It’s clear.”

  “Clear. Exa
ctly. Vodka is like a medicine. Clears the mind. When you want to know what a man has on his mind, you do it with a drink.” Raf pours another glass of vodka for Andrew.

  “Raf, I wanted to...”

  “Wait.” He pours one for himself and holds his glass up. “We have something very important to celebrate.”

  “Yes, we do.” Raf motions Raf raises his glass, and motions to Andrew to take up his glass.

  “Let's drink. To life, this fragile, fleeting object, so short, yet we take it for granted every day.” Andrew raises his glass.

  “To life.” Raf slams the vodka down his throat immediately, slams the shot glass on the table, and fills it up again. Andrew takes a gulp of the vodka.

  “Drink!”

  “I am....” ANDREW drinks some more vodka.