Chapter Text
“Shane Hollander?” Ilya looked up at Svetlana Vetrova, one eyebrow raised, skepticism dripping from his every Russian word.
“Yes.”
“Pop star Shane Hollander?”
“Yes.” Svetlana’s expression, to her credit, did not show any signs of surprise, emotion - anything but business, and Ilya was impressed.
They had been friends for a long time, but colleagues only a short while. Still, she was commanding, professional, absolutely causing anyone who questioned whether or not her spot as VP at Vetrov Security was anything other than nepotism to re-think that notion rapidly.
“Okay…” Ilya looked down at the information packet lying before him on the conference room table.
The cover sheet was standard, and Ilya tried his best not to laugh at the fact that they had included a picture. Ilya may have only been in the United States for a little while now, but he was pretty sure that anyone stateside who didn’t know what Shane Hollander looked like was either blind, lived under a rock, or lying.
Then again, he had never seen a dossier without a photo…if one were available. There had been plenty in his time as a Spetsnaz operative when he had been going in blind, but this? Private security? This was a completely different rodeo.
Private sector was much better paying, much safer, and at least in the instance he was currently facing down, much, much more high profile.
It didn’t get much more high profile than Shane Hollander.
“You’re familiar with him, I take it?” Svetlana asked, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as she watched Ilya flip through the dossier.
“Somewhat.” He shrugged. “Pop star, former member of a boyband, the…Metropolitan Men, it seems,” he said, finding the name in the dossier. “Having a very successful solo career, good for him.”
Ilya closed the packet, looking back up at his friend and current boss. He could read the rest of it later, commit it to memory, and he had no doubt that he would. This may be his first time out in the private security sector, but he was very, very good at what he did.
“Arguably one of the most famous pop stars in the world right now. At least in North America.”
“Last I checked, Vetrov didn’t supply bodyguards to pop stars often.” Ilya folded his arms across his chest.
“Yes, well, someone tried to kill him last night. Rather, someone made a very credible threat against his life last night. He was headed to announce his upcoming world tour on The Tonight Show, and someone fired a BB gun into the crowd. Whoever it was followed it up with a warning that, if Mr. Hollander goes through with his tour, ‘the next time, the bullets will be real,’” Svetlana quoted. “It’s all there in the dossier, but long story short, League Records doesn’t plan to cancel the tour. What they will do, apparently, is pay top dollar for someone to keep him safe.”
“And that someone is me? Why? A case this high profile, you don’t want someone more experienced in this area?”
“No.” Svetlana shook her head. “It’s complicated. We want someone close to his age - you are going to have to be on him 24 hours a day until this threat is gone, Ilya. And…since no one seems to have any idea who’s making these threats, your talents for general intelligence will be of great use here. We don’t have anyone currently available with your experience in that area. It’s not just a bodyguard job. You will also be doing what you can to ensure the safety of all security plans for all venues, restaurants, hotels - anywhere that Mr. Hollander is going. In your “down” time, you will be using your…skills to see what you can do about catching whoever’s doing this.”
“Ah. So bodyguard, but also investigating. I understand.”
Ilya did understand. He may no longer be Spetsnaz, released on injury, but he still had those skills, and he had been an excellent operative. Now that he was here, attempting to start a new life, it made sense that Svetlana, who knew about his past, who knew just how good he was, would want someone that she could trust on this case.
Shane Hollander was incredibly famous, and if this went sideways, it wouldn’t just be a tragedy, it would also be the death knell for Vetrov Security.
There would be no way to recover if Shane fucking Hollander was put under their watch, and they failed to keep him safe.
“Good.” Svetlana nodded. “So read up, pack up, suit up. A car will be here in two hours to take you to the League Records office.”
“Yes ma’am.” Ilya stood, lifting the dossier.
“Hey.” Svetlana reached for his arm. “I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined, agreeing to come work here for me-”
“What, babysitting a pop star?” Ilya smiled. “No, I can’t say it’s what I expected.”
“I wouldn’t be assigning you this case if you weren’t the right man for the job. 24/7 personal security is a lot, but the paycheck waiting for you at the end of it is obscene. Enough to get your life here off to a proper start.”
“Thank you.” Ilya nodded. “I…you are a good friend, Sveta. I don’t know where I would be-”
“Stop.” Svetlana shook her head. “You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Now go. You have a pop star to keep alive, and while the media seems to think he’s a good guy, you never know who’s going to be a diva behind closed doors.”
Ilya offered his old friend one last smile before heading off to get ready. He had been training for this since he had arrived in New York.
It may not have been what he was expecting, but he knew that he was ready.