by Alex Archer
Annja smiled. “You’re much different now than you were when we met a few days back.”
“Well, that was a role,” he said.
“And this is the real you?”
“Maybe.” He smiled.
Annja smirked. “All right. Let’s be cautious in our approach, then.”
“Sounds good.”
Annja turned back to the staircase and crept up the final steps. The door grew in size until she felt certain it was a regular size.
She heard noises coming from beyond it. She held up her hand to warn Gregor. He patted the back of her leg signaling he understood.
Annja crept closer to the door. The lit outline of the door was interrupted by shadows passing in front of it. There was someone on the other side of the door; that was certain. But who?
Annja eased her weight over to the outside edges of the stairs, knowing they would support her body weight better and be less likely to creak out a warning. She moved up two more steps and then paused.
Sweat had broken out along her hairline. She was nervous again.
The air felt warmer here, as well. In stark contrast to how cold she’d been back down in the cave, Annja now wanted to shed her jacket.
She moved up another step.
She heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. And then she heard a deep sigh.
She could feel Gregor’s body heat behind her. His attention seemed focused on the door, as well.
She looked back at him and raised her eyebrows. He nodded.
It was time.
Annja let her hand go to where she imagined a doorknob would be. She was rewarded when she felt the cool rusted metal in her hand. She rested her hand lightly on it and then placed the other about six inches higher.
She was ready.
She turned the knob and shoved her way into the bright light, rapidly blinking her eyes to acclimate them as she did so. Behind her, she felt Gregor rushing into the room.
A series of images registered as she took stock of the room. A table. A wood-burning stove churning out plenty of heat. And in a rickety old wooden chair, someone sat with their back to the door.
“Don’t move!” she shouted.
Gregor looked at her with a funny expression. Annja shrugged. It was the best she could think of.
The figure seated at the table lifted his hands from the tabletop. “I mean you no harm,” he said.
There was something familiar about his voice. Annja closed the door behind her and then moved forward. As his face came into view, Annja felt a wave of surprise wash over her. “Father Jakob?”
He looked at her. A sad smile spread across his face. “Yes.”
“What in the world are you doing here?”
He looked at the door and then back at Annja.
“Is she dead?”
Annja looked at Gregor and then back at the priest. “Yes.”
He nodded and then took a sip of the black coffee in front of him. “I suppose it was inevitable.”
“You knew?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“And after all the trouble she caused, you still—”
“Refused to tell anyone. Yes. I am guilty of these things. I know this.” He gestured to the empty chairs around the table. “Please sit down.”
“I’ll stand, thank you. You’ve got a lot of blood on your hands, Father. And I think you’d better start by telling us exactly what the hell is going on here,” Annja said.
“I will.” He got up from his seat. Gregor backed up and looked at Annja, but she only shrugged. Father Jakob looked old and frail and she had a hard time imagining him being much of a threat to anyone.
He took a kettle off the stovetop and got two mugs from his cupboard. “You’ll be wanting some of this, I expect. You were down there for a long time. It can’t have been easy for you.”
Annja looked around. She had a sense of déjà vu. “Where are we?”
“In the back of my church,” Father Jakob said.
“You’re back in the village.”
“We traveled underground back to the village?” Annja asked.
“Yes.”
“So, that’s how the creature was able to get here without anyone seeing it.”
Father Jakob sat back down. “She had a name, you know. At one time, anyway.”
Gregor sat down next to him. “I don’t know that we are all that interested in hearing it. I’d rather know exactly what she was.”
Annja helped herself to some coffee. It went down hot but tasted good. She suddenly realized she was ravenous, as well, but didn’t think it was the right time to ask Father Jakob to cook them a meal.
She took the brank out of her pocket and slid it across the table in front of the priest. “You’ll want this back.”
He took it in one of his blue-veined hands. “I found this in the basement of this church, you know. It’s very old. I have no idea who it might belong to or what its purpose might have been.”
“I think you figured its purpose out well enough. It’s a brank. Meant to be a type of muzzle,” Annja said.
“So my instinct was correct.” Father Jakob sighed.
“I found her about twenty years ago.”
“That long?” Gregor was incredulous. “You’ve had her here with you all that time?”
“Yes.”
“And no one ever knew about it?”
Father Jakob took a sip of his coffee. “Regrettably, a few did find out about her. But they never lived to tell anyone.”
“You killed them?” Annja couldn’t believe it.
“Not me. She did,” the priest said.
“Where did you find her?” Gregor asked.
“In the mountains. She was naked and freezing and I took pity on her. When she was still able to speak, she told me she’d escaped from a medical laboratory on the outskirts of Kolyma. At first I didn’t believe her, but then she showed me some of what they did to her. And then I believed her.”
“She showed you the claws?” Annja asked.
Father Jakob nodded. “Indeed. She’d been surgically altered. That along with her teeth. It was horrifying for me and yet at the same time I felt compelled to help her. I don’t know if it was compassion or simply pity on the poor creature that she’d been reduced to. I used to imagine her as a happy young girl who’d been plucked out of her innocence by the cruel demands of the Motherland.”
Gregor nodded. “I’ve heard rumors of what they used to do to gifted children.”
Father Jakob looked up. “And they’re true, my boy.”
Annja leaned forward. “But what was she supposed to become? There must have been some purpose for altering her the way they did.”
“She did have a purpose,” Father Jakob said. “And when she told me what it was, I nearly died from fright.”
“What was it?”
He looked at Annja. “The Soviet Union wanted to create a soldier that could be self-sustaining.”
“What does that mean?”
“That creature that you killed was meant to be the prototype for a special kind of soldier.”
“Special? In what way?” Annja asked.
Father Jakob put his head in his hands. “She was meant to be a cannibal.”
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“A cannibal,” Annja repeated, horrified.
Father Jakob nodded. “The goal, at least according to what she told me, was to reduce the need for rations by soldiers. If they could live off the remains of the battlefield dead, then they could go farther faster than conventional troops.”
Annja shook her head. “What sick bastard came up with that idea?”
Father Jakob shrugged. “Who knows? The idea isn’t necessarily out of the realm of consideration. After all, toward the end of the Cold War, the Soviet Union was beginning to go bankrupt. Perhaps the powers that be decided that rations were a concept they could do without.”
“An army’s got to eat,” Gregor said.
“Indeed, but if they could remo
ve the cost of rations from the war budget, then the country would have that much more money to spend elsewhere.” Father Jakob finished his coffee and poured himself a fresh cup. “I don’t claim to understand it, but from what she told me, that’s what they thought would be good.”
“Insane,” Annja said. “The world is completely insane.”
Gregor shook his head. “Well, we can be comforted by the thought that those people who did that to the creature no longer exist. I think we’d all agree we’re much safer without them around.”
“Absolutely,” Father Jakob said. He nodded at Gregor’s leg. “You are injured, young man?”
Gregor shifted. “Just a bit of a twinge. Nothing too serious.”
Annja took a sip of her coffee. “Why did you hide her for so long?”
“I’d hoped to wean her off human flesh. When I found her, she tried to bite my arm off.”
“You’re joking,” Annja said.
Father Jakob rolled up his sleeve. Annja and Gregor peered closer and could see the half circle of tooth mark scars on his skin. “That was twenty years ago.”
Annja frowned. “She should have been able to bite right through your arm considering she had metallic teeth.”
Father Jakob laughed. “I was wearing about eight layers of clothes at the time I found her. She did her best, but my jacket stopped her. Instead, I got the pressure wounds from her teeth. I was very lucky.”
“So you brought her here?” Annja asked.
The priest nodded. “I kept her down there in the cellar.”
“But she could come and go as she pleased,” Annja said.
Father Jakob sighed. “I had no idea there was another door out of the cellar. Imagine my horror the night I brought down her supper only to find she was gone. I was out of my mind with fear.”
“But she came back,” Gregor said.
“She had to. There was no other place for her to go. And there was no one she would trust to keep her safe and hidden.”
“When did she start to kill?” Annja asked.
“I used the brank there for a little bit. I was trying to keep her from wanting to eat. And I fed her as well as I was able to given my lowly means. Sometimes I took to digging through the trash of the café for their bits of food.”
“It didn’t work?” Annja asked.
“Oh, I thought it did. She showed signs of being able to keep herself under control. But then she would strike out in a rage.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what they must have done to that poor young girl. Possibly they gave her drugs that altered her basic metabolism or drove her to do what she had to do.”
“She would have eaten me,” Gregor said. “Wouldn’t she?”
“Most likely.” Father Jakob looked him over.
“You’re in good shape, strong and still young. She would derive the most energy from you, I believe.”
Father Jakob frowned. “Where is the third member of your party, the one you called Bob?”
“He’s dead,” Annja said.
“Did she—”
“No,” Gregor said quickly. “We were ambushed by two men who worked for the mafiya. Bob died trying to fight them off.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Father Jakob said. “Where is his body?”
“Back in the mountains. In a cave,” Annja said.
“We need to make plans to get it out.”
“Then we should be grateful this day is at last finished.”
“It was a nightmare,” Annja said.
“One that is now over,” Father Jakob assured her.
“Although, truth be told, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or heartbroken. I strongly suspect I came to view the creature almost like my own child. And now that she’s gone—”
Annja glanced at Gregor, who seemed ready to depart. “There are plenty of people who will want to know all about this,” she said.
Father Jakob looked up. “Would you give me two days? I’d very much like to bury her. At least give her something dignified in terms of a burial. After that, I know I’ll have some questions to answer.”
Gregor stood. “Two days, Father. That’s it.”
The priest smiled through his tears. “Thank you.”
Annja turned to go, but Father Jakob stopped her. “Here.” He handed her the brank.
“What’s this for?”
“You’re an archaeologist, right?”
“Yes.”
“Take this. As I told you, it’s very old. Possibly older than I know. It might help make up for your loss if you are able to find out something of its history.”
Annja tried to smile. “I think Bob would like that.”
“He shared your passion for items of antiquity?”
“Very much so.”
“Then it is good that you should have it.” Father Jakob rose slowly, and Annja heard several of his bones creak in protest. “I will see you out. If you don’t mind leaving through the front door.”
“Better than trekking back down the tunnels,” Gregor said. “I’m not sure my leg would hold up.”
“It bothers you that much?” the priest asked.
Gregor shrugged. “Just enough to be a nuisance and slow me down some. I’ll be fine once I get a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.”
At the door, Annja turned. “I am sorry that I had no choice but to kill her.”
Father Jakob nodded. “I know you would not have done so unless you had absolutely no choice.”
“You’re right.”
“Most likely, I was a damned fool to try and keep her alive or think I could make her normal again. I don’t know that anything was possible considering what they did to her.”
“You had to try,” Gregor said. “You’re a man of the cloth. If you don’t try to help people, then who will?”
“Who indeed?” the priest said. He opened the door and a strong gust of night wind blew in.
“Good night.”
Annja and Gregor hurried down the steps as snow pelted them again. “Another storm?” Annja asked.
Gregor shrugged. “We’re in snow country. Stuff like this is unavoidable.”
“I’m going to a tropical island when I get home,” Annja said. “I’m already sick to death of all this white stuff.”
Gregor smiled. “You think there might be room for a friend to tag along with you?”
Annja looked at him. “After all of this, do you really want to spend more time with me?”
“I’ve been known to do crazier things,” Gregor said.
Annja looked at him closely. “So now I count among the crazy things in your life?”
“A woman with a sword that vanishes into thin air.” Gregor nodded. “I think you definitely count.”
Annja turned back into the wind. She knew he had a point.
Down the street from the church, few lights shone in the houses. Gregor and Annja made their way back to the hotel and banged on the door.
From the other side, Annja could hear movement and a quiet voice asking something in Russian. Gregor moved her aside. His voice called out in Russian, as well, but the deep boom of it made Annja jump.
Apparently it had the same effect on the innkeeper because there was an instant rattle at the door. In seconds, the door opened and bright light spilled out onto them.
The innkeeper’s face looked ashen. “Come in, quickly!”
Annja and Gregor hurried inside and stood just inside the door stamping their feet and shaking out of their jackets. The innkeeper looked at them. “Why on earth are you out after dark?”
“We didn’t have much of a choice,” Annja said.
“Yes, but that thing is out there.”
“Khosadam?” Annja asked.
The innkeeper’s face paled. “Yes.”
Gregor put a hand on his shoulder. “Here is what you are going to do. You will set a hot bath for me and one for my companion. You will then tell your wife to cook us up a hearty meal. And make sure you have tea and juice, as well.”
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The innkeeper eyed them both. “You’ve seen it. You’ve seen the creature.”
Gregor nodded. “We have.”
“And you lived to be here?”
Annja sighed. “We’re here. Obviously we weren’t killed.”
“What is it like?” the man asked.
“It’s dead,” Gregor said.
“You killed it!” The innkeeper’s face lit up. “You brave, brave man. You did it. You have rid us all of the beast.”
“Not me,” Gregor said. “Her.”
The innkeeper’s eyes widened as he looked at Annja. “The girl?”
“The woman,” Annja corrected. “And yes, I did.”
“Amazing.”
Annja frowned and looked at Gregor. “I take it you guys don’t have a lot of strong female role models?”
“I think Khosadam was our first.” Gregor laughed.
The innkeeper took Annja’s hand. “Forgive me for my ignorance. I will do my best to make sure you eat like never before. And you will have your baths. Both of you.”
“You know,” Gregor said, “we could save time and water if we shared a bath.”
Annja glanced at him. “Nice try, Casanova. But don’t count on it.”
“It was just a thought.”
“A bad one,” Annja said. But she smiled anyway.
“There’s something else,” Gregor said to the innkeeper.
“Anything, dear sir.”
“There are some bodies up in the caves on the mountains. They will need to be recovered.”
The innkeeper looked concerned. “Did they fall victim to the beast?”
“No—to organized crime.”
The innkeeper shook his head. “I do not understand.”
Annja cleared her throat. “The two men who were here last night, Yuri and Oleg? They worked for the mafiya. They followed us out today and hunted us down. They were trying to get this village to sell itself to their gang, which would then exploit the natural resources in this area.”
“I had no idea,” the innkeeper said.
“Neither did we,” Gregor replied.
“And the third member of your party?”
Annja shook her head. “He’s dead. And I want him brought back here for a proper funeral.”
“I will see to it that some of the men from the village recover the bodies,” the innkeeper said. “You have my word.”