Boris: A Novel

By Allan Winneker

This is the tale of a charming, intelligent adult with non-existent scruples, who delivers results for his employer that often yield catastrophic endings for those brought into his sphere of influence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665541411

Allan Winneker

“Border Line” is Allan Winneker’s fourth work of fiction. He became interested in the subject after learning of the many dangers faced by the U.S. Border Patrol. Winneker, a native of Philadelphia, enjoyed a 38-year career in marketing management before retiring to begin writing novels and enjoying life with his wife Betty on Callawassie Island in South Carolina. The Winnekers have two sons and three grandchildren. Allan’s first novel, “The Expatriate”, was published in 2002.

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© 2021 Allan Winneker. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/27/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4142-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4140-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4141-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021921459

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Chapter 99

Chapter 100

Chapter 101

Chapter 102

Chapter 103

Chapter 104

Chapter 105

Chapter 106

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters names,

incidents, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

CHAPTER 1

THE MEETING WAS brief. The location was secret. In fact, it took place in the backroom of a neighborhood Italian restaurant on the east side of Pittsburgh.

A number of the attendees flew in the day before from Atlanta, where they ran their American organization. The reason for the meeting was to lay down a new set of rules for one of their operatives in the United States. The new rules would be followed, or Bob Frost would likely be a dead man in short order.

Pittsburgh was Bob’s cover. Bob was Boris Minsky. He was a Russian spy, and a member of one of Russia’s crime syndicates operating in the States. A 44-year old American, born and educated, tall, blond and physically ripped Frost was recruited by the Russian mafia soon after he graduated from college.

His parents were natives of St. Petersburg, Russia. Dmitri Minsky, now living alone after a bitter divorce a few years earlier, was a long-time member of the Russian Foreign Service. At one time, he was stationed at the Russian Embassy in Washington, DC. There, he met his wife-to-be, an American, Sheila Mellon. She was working at the embassy as a diplomatic liaison, employed by the U.S. State Department. Fluent in Russian, Mellon was smitten by Minsky’s charm and good looks. They fell in love, and were married the following year. .

A year later, Boris was born. In Washington, he lived a relatively normal life, going to a small private school, where the student body was comprised of the children of foreign diplomats. While in the 3rd grade there, his parents were relocated to Moscow. They opted to allow their son to remain at the school to finish out the term, during which he conveniently lived with Capitol Hill neighbors.

Later, as a teenager in Moscow, Boris began to excel in cross-country running, and in his junior year he was selected to begin training for the Olympics, scheduled to be held in Tokyo three years later. But later that year, the Minskys were once again sent back to Washington, abruptly ending Boris’s preparation for the Games.

Following graduation from high school, Boris attended Duquesne University, a Catholic college in Pittsburgh. His major was International Business. It was his intention to join the diplomatic service, following in his father’s footsteps. He attempted to continue his athletic development as a cross-country runner at Duquesne. But a torn meniscus, and subsequent surgery, ended his running career.

Boris met Christy Boyer, who years later would become his intended wife, while they were both students at Duquesne. A Pittsburgh native, Christy was a tall brunette with piercing blue eyes, and a personality to match. She earned a B.S. degree in nursing at Duquesne. Boris left school after his junior year, deciding to finish his college studies at George Washington University in D.C., where his father has returned to the U.S. and continued his service at the Russian Embassy.

Boris’s life was clearly focused on a career that continued the family’s service to Russia. He graduated from George Washington the following year, earning a degree in Political Science.

**********

CHAPTER 2

CHRISTY WAS FORTUNATE to secure a nursing position at Magee Women’s Hospital in Pittsburgh. Obstetrics was her chosen specialty. Magee had an opening in their Womancare Birth Center, and she jumped at the opportunity. Magee’s birthing facility was nationally recognized. She had graduated from Duquesne with honors, and her job application was swiftly approved.

Christy’s intention was to eventually earn a Masters Degree in nursing. Starting a career at Magee, however, would slow down her ability to earn the advanced degree, but the growing popularity of online education would at least provide a mechanism for her to begin the process. The U. of Pittsburgh had such an online graduate nursing program.

She met her first husband, Brian Bailey, at a friend’s party. After Frost left to return to Washington, she was attracted to Bailey, a wiry, red haired, extravert. They dated for six months, and were engaged shortly thereafter. Christy’s parents were anything but wealthy, encouraging their daughter to plan an inexpensive wedding. The encouragement worked. Christy and Brian eloped, got married in Las Vegas, and enjoyed a four-day honeymoon in Palm Springs.

Brian was trained as a welder; flux cored arc welding to be exact. Most of his work was done on new commercial buildings. He would often be gone for weeks at a time on major out of town jobs. Occasionally he would come home on the weekends, but Christy was regularly working weekend shifts at the hospital. Their relationship was becoming strained.

Their two sons, Adam and Shawn, were teenagers when the couple divorced. Adam, now 16, was a gregarious kid, a gifted soccer player and a starter on the high school varsity team. Shawn was in middle school, and at 14, was a handful. Both boys were tall for their age, and both had auburn hair perched atop freckled faces. They looked like their mother. Adam was outgoing; Shawn, not so much. They loved their dad, but could easily discern the deteriorating relationship growing more noticeable every day.

The couple separated after a 17-year relationship, and divorced a year later. Brian was 42-years old. Christy was 39.

**********

CHAPTER 3

CHRISTY WAS NOW a single mom. Halfway through her online, U. of Pittsburgh Masters degree program, while still committed to her career, she was growing lonely in her personal life. The boys were nearing the end of their high school days, and contemplating vastly different career tracks. Adam looked toward financial management, and realized that he would need a college education, and an MBA. His ACT scores were excellent, and he began the process of submitting applications to colleges with reputable business schools.

Shawn had no desire to attend college, and in the process, be strapped with student loans for years after getting a degree. He enjoyed working with his hands, had an interest in becoming an electrician, and was convinced he would be able to earn an excellent living in that field. A friend’s father was an electrical contractor, and had several conversations with Shawn on the subject.

Then fate struck the Bailey family. Minsky had learned of Christy’s divorce, and wanted her back in his life. Boris had met an attractive receptionist at the Russian Embassy, and they were married after a brief courting relationship. Their marriage was brief. In less than a year, the couple split after the girl was advised she would be transferred to Moscow in a matter of weeks, and had no choice in the matter. And Frost had no desire to join her.

Several months later, a knock on Christy’s door threw the woman’s life into a new direction. It was 10AM on a Sunday. Boris stood there, known as Bob to her. She recognized him immediately, and felt as though she was going to faint. He hadn’t changed much. Neither had Christy. They were both now in their early 40’s, but amazingly they hadn’t seemed to age much since college.

It’s me Christy. It’s Bob. Thanks to Google and Facebook you were easy to find.

She was speechless. They shook hands at first. She smiled, and a few tears cascaded down her cheeks. Then they hugged. Christy was in shorts and a tee shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. Bob Frost! What are you doing here? I thought you decided that D.C. was it for you.

It was, for awhile. Do you mind if I come in?

Christy motioned to him to follow her into the house. Boris wore khakis and a golf shirt, with a pair of sneakers. His hair was long, but tastefully groomed. Some gray had invaded around his temples. Muscular still, he appeared to be keeping himself in great physical condition. They walked into the family room, where Christy plopped down in a chair, while Boris continued to stand. There was no conversation for almost a full minute. Then Christy regained most of her composure.

Want something to drink? She asked. Hard or soft, your choice."

Nothing, but thanks. I can’t stay very long. Just wanted to let you know that I’m back in town. If I startled you, I apologize. You’re as lovely as you were the last day I saw you. It was almost twenty years ago. Amazing! How do you do it?

Genes, I guess, she said. You don’t look like you’ve aged much yourself."

Boris spoke with an air of confidence. My network of spies let me know that you’re divorced; and that you have two teenage boys. I’d like to meet them some day.

Christy didn’t know how to respond. Still in shock from seeing him again after all those years, the ability to make intelligent conversation failed her. She didn’t answer. Following a brief silence, Boris chimed in. Why don’t I bug out? You probably have things to do. I’ll give you a call in a few days. Maybe we can grab dinner or something.

That would be great, Bob. I do have some things to do before heading to work. Lucky you caught me this morning. The schedule at the hospital gives me a few mornings off. She scribbled her cellphone number on a piece of paper, handing it to Boris as he turned toward the front door.

Thanks Christy, as he looked at the number. I already found your number when I learned the address. Your Facebook profile and Google Search told me a great deal.

As he reached the front door, Boris once again hugged Christy, and without saying another word, he departed. At the sidewalk he texted for a Lyft pickup. The car arrived in less than five minutes.

Christy stood there in the foyer, still dumbfounded. After a few minutes, she made her way to the bedroom to change into her uniform for work. Her shift started at 3PM.

**********

CHAPTER 4

BORIS WAS ECSTATIC. Christy remained attractive, intelligent, and, best of all, single again. She and her two teenage sons would be perfect covers for him in the years ahead. He had much work to do for one of Mother Russia’s American organizations. And Christy would know nothing of his responsibilities, other than the fact that her old flame was back, and life could be beautiful again.

It was the way it had to be. His principal responsibilities were to his U.S. – based superiors operating out of Atlanta. One of over a hundred organization members functioning on behalf of their comrades in Moscow, Boris knew he would have to continue faking one half of his life in order to protect the other half. If he blew his cover, it was over for him, as it would have been for anyone exposing the activities of the Russian mob in America. An assassin would blow him away.

He needed a strategy to get back into Christy’s life. It wouldn’t happen overnight. She would need to be courted and coaxed back into a relationship that he hoped would result in marriage. That would provide him with some respectability and enable him to feign some sort of career endeavor. Christy would have to believe it.

Pittsburgh was fine for him. Christy was there. Her sons would soon be on their own. In any case, he believed he could easily get along with them as their stepfather. They would likely see him as someone to trust and confide in.

He would have to jockey back and forth from Atlanta, where meetings were held, and assignments were handed out. In most cases, his absence would be explained to Christy as a trip for secret government work in D.C.. He was a superb liar. His handsome, macho appearance, coupled with a convincing and articulate speaking style, would have Christy sold on each and every explanation of why he disappeared, for days at a time.

Next step: give Christy a couple of days before giving her a call to invite her to dinner. After leaving her townhome, he returned to a small nearby apartment he had rented on a monthly basis. It was less than three miles from her place. After grabbing a bite to eat, he made several phone calls, most of them to his Atlanta contacts inside the organization. The first one was to Mikhail Lasnov, his direct superior. He needed to keep in touch with Lasnov on a regular basis. Minsky didn’t make a move without his knowledge and blessing.

The name Lasnov was infamous in Moscow. His father, Barron, was an assassin for the organization for many years. He often received orders from one of Russian President Rostov’s lieutenants. Now in his seventies, the senior Lasnov was semi-retired. His cover had always been as a foreman for a masonry firm. By night, a frequent assignment was to eliminate one of Rostov’s political enemies. There were many, but unless they maintained a low profile and refused to openly voice their disagreements with the Kremlin, their lives would be in constant danger.

Mikhail was a businessman. Earning a degree in accounting from a small business college in Macon, Georgia, he rose from a bookkeeping job with an Atlanta-based insurance company, to be vice president and comptroller of the firm. It was an excellent cover, not for a killer, but for being a key liaison with the organization’s bigwigs and for funneling funds to the leadership in Moscow.

Mikhail, all is well in Pittsburgh, Boris said. If you can survive for a bit longer without me in Atlanta, I will be able to cement a great relationship with my old girlfriend.

"What is a bit? he asked. I am working on a potentially very big deal here, and will need you soon."

"What is soon?" Boris said facetiously.

Maybe two weeks; not much more. The pieces are coming together at the moment.

A couple of weeks weren’t much time for Boris to work on Christy. Ideally, in short order, they would get married. That would provide Minsky with useful cover away from the organization’s Atlanta stronghold. He would need a couple of months.

I will get back to you on that.

Don’t disappoint me Boris.

I understand, he said. But you wanted me to make this connection and secure a Pittsburgh linkage for the future. What’s more important?

You do not decide what is important, Mikhail said, as he ended the call with a sharp edge on his gravelly voice.

**********

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