by Alex Archer
Annja said nothing, but got to her feet. “Yeah, well, you can’t blame a girl for trying to keep her stuff safe.”
Mischa smiled. “You want to explain this to me?”
“Not really.”
“I could offer to kill Bob here and make you talk that way. Or I could give you to my men and they could have some fun with you before you spit out the truth.”
“You won’t do that,” Annja said.
Mischa’s eyebrows jumped. “And what makes you think I won’t?”
“Because as bad a man as you are, you’re not a beast.” Annja looked at Dzerchenko’s corpse. “Not like him.”
Mischa considered that and shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“No perhaps about it. You’re as good a man as is possible for someone in your line of work.”
“Don’t flatter me too much, Annja. I might have to kill you just to protect my reputation.”
Annja walked around to Bob’s gurney. He was staring at her. “We’re leaving,” she said.
“Are you?”
Annja stopped. “Which one of your men is going to help me?”
Mischa chewed his lip. “None.”
Annja took her hands off the gurney. “What are you talking about?”
“I want that sword.”
Annja smirked. “Trust me, if I could give you this thing, I would in a heartbeat. But I’m afraid it’s not that easy. For some bizarre reason, the sword chose me. Now I’m stuck with it like a bad set of luggage.”
“There must be a way,” Mischa said.
Annja leaned against the gurney. “Tell you what—you come up with a way to do it, call me. We can talk.”
Annja started to push the gurney, but one of Mischa’s men blocked her way. Annja stopped again and looked at Mischa. “Are we really going to go through this again?”
Mischa kept the pistol on her. “Let me have it. I want to see it.”
“You know,” Annja said, “the Japanese samurai used to believe that if you unsheathed a sword, you had to cut something. That if the blade was only brought out for show, it was an insult to the sword itself.”
Mischa laughed. “So we’ll cut Bob, then.”
“I don’t like the way this conversation is heading,” Bob said.
Annja patted his arm. “The sword stays with me. That’s my final offer.”
“Not much of an offer,” Mischa said. He leveled the pistol on Bob. “Here’s my counteroffer.”
He fired one round into Bob’s leg. Bob screamed in agony as the small-caliber round tore through his thigh. A spurt of blood spread across the sheets.
“I shot him in the quadriceps. He’ll be fine…for now. But given the extent of his other injuries, you need to get him to a doctor. Soon. Otherwise, who knows? Shock could settle in. And he could very likely die.”
Annja was sweating. This can’t be happening.
“The sword, Annja. Now.”
Annja glared at him. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you’re as big a piece of garbage as Dzerchenko was.”
Mischa laughed. “That’s better.”
Annja looked at Bob. He’d clamped one of his hands over the wound to stop the bleeding.
Mischa leveled the pistol at Bob’s head. “Last chance. The next bullet goes into his head. And then I start on you. And you know, there’s only so much pain a human being can tolerate.”
Annja started to say something, but her words were drowned out by the sudden report of multiple gunshots.
Mischa turned, but as he did so, his body took four bullets that caused him to twist and buck as if someone had touched him with a live wire. He pirouetted and crumpled in a heap on the floor.
His other men took rounds and dropped, as well.
Annja ducked down, but saw the church being overrun with men dressed in black coveralls and respirators. They shouted for her to stay down. Two of them rushed over and covered her while the other members of the team cleared the remainder of the church.
After twenty seconds, it was over.
One of the commandos helped Annja to her feet. “Are you all right?”
Annja nodded. “My friend needs medical attention.”
The commando called over a medic who went to work on fixing Bob.
“Who are you guys?” Annja asked.
The commando removed his respirator. Annja could see the marks on his face from where the rubber housing met flesh. His eyes looked sharp and they reminded her of someone.
“We’re friends of Gregor’s.”
Annja could see it now. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke and stood. It was as if Gregor had come back from the dead.
“I see,” Annja said.
“Where is he?”
Annja sighed. “I don’t know. He was underground in a secret laboratory. But I don’t know where he might be now.”
“All right, we’ll find him.” The commando turned and gave orders to his men, who then fanned out to search for Gregor’s body.
Annja watched him and cleared her throat. “How in the world did you ever find us?”
He grinned. “Gregor had a global-positioning satellite transponder on his body. We all have them. It took us a little while to get here when he failed to report in last night. We knew there was trouble.”
The medic was doing good work on Bob, who smiled weakly at Annja. The medic said something to the commando leader, who nodded and then looked back at Annja. “He says your friend should be dead. But that he will live.”
Annja winked at Bob. “Defying the odds again, huh?”
“I’m like a bad fungus, apparently.”
“Apparently.”
“We’ll fly him out,” the leader said.
“Thank you,” Annja replied.
A burst of radio static broke out over the leader’s radio unit. He spoke into it for a moment and then listened. When the transmission was done, he looked back at Annja. “They found him.”
“Downstairs?”
“Yes.”
Annja took a deep breath. “I wish I’d gotten to know him a bit better.”
“He was a good man.” The leader looked around.
“What happened here?”
Annja smiled. “How much time do you have?”
“As much as it takes.”
Annja explained all the events that had transpired. She hadn’t realized how much detail there was in retelling the story of their adventures. Every once in a while, she would look over at Bob and smile. He looked tired and Annja suddenly realized that she was exhausted. The pressure of the past few days had drained her. She needed a vacation in a bad way.
From the rear of the church, she saw movement. Four commandos bore a stretcher out of the kitchen.
Annja could see Gregor’s body lying on it covered in a sheet.
As they filed down the center aisle, Annja whispered goodbye to him. The commandos filed outside and down the steps.
“He’ll be buried with full military honors. The country owes him a huge debt of gratitude.”
“So do I,” Annja said.
“Do you know how he died?”
Annja hesitated. “Yes.”
The leader looked at her for a long minute. Then he simply nodded. “Very well. I guess we’ll leave that right where it is.”
Annja sighed. “That might be best.”
“Let’s get you out of here. As far as I can tell, this village is deserted.”
“It should be destroyed,” Annja said.
Bob grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight.
“Thank you.”
She grinned. “For what?”
“For coming on this trip. I never would have gotten out of this alive without your help.”
“You can buy me a beer when you get out of the hospital.”
“You bet.”
The leader looked at them both. “We’ll be having a service for Gregor back at our headquarters. You’re both welcome to attend if you like.
”
Annja looked at Bob. “It might take us a while to get there.”
The leader nodded. “We have to do our investigation first. We’ll hold the service in a few weeks. That should give you enough time.”
Annja nodded. “I think we’d like that. A lot.”
The leader stepped away, and several more men came over to Bob’s gurney. They wheeled him to the front door, wrapped him in blankets and then carried him down the steps.
Overhead, Annja could hear the steady sound of helicopters coming in.
She took one final look around the church.
And then walked outside into the bright new day.
Epilogue
Annja sat drinking her cold draft beer in a small bar in Brooklyn. Around her, the voices of other bar patrons mingled with the music of a jukebox in the corner. Several wide-screen televisions showed football games.
Annja took another sip of her drink and then wiped her mouth on a napkin. The booth she sat in had a high back. It afforded her privacy, and lately that was something she was coveting even more than she normally did.
Her stomach lurched and she looked up. Threading his way through the crowd was a familiar face, and Annja smiled in spite of herself. As Bob worked through the crowds, he leaned on a cane and waved to Annja.
She waved back and he made it through the throng. “About time you got here,” she said.
He rested the cane against the table and then used his hands to steady himself as he slid into the booth. His left leg stayed straight outside of the booth, jutting out into the aisle. “You try getting around on one of these things. They’re a royal pain in the ass, let me tell you.”
“At least you get to maneuver around, huh?”
“Yeah, at least.” He looked at her beer. “What are you drinking?”
“Sam Adams Winter Lager. One of the best in the world.”
Bob nodded. “I’ll have one, as well.” He waved a waitress over and placed his order. He also slid his credit card onto her tray. He winked at Annja. “I haven’t forgotten about that beer I owe you.”
“Thanks.”
He leaned back. “How’re you doing?”
Annja shrugged. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
She smiled. “I’m all right. Honestly.”
“I think that trip over yonder took a lot out of you. I know it sure as hell devastated me,” he said.
“Almost dying can do that to a person.” Annja took another sip of her beer. “God knows I’ve been there enough.”
“What we saw over there…well, it was horrible,” Bob said.
“The whole village, all his experiments. Even the nice old cook who made me breakfast the day I left you to get help.”
“You stopped for breakfast?”
Annja smirked. “She forced me to eat.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Bob grinned at her as the waitress returned with his drink. She brought a refill for Annja.
“Thanks.”
Bob hoisted his glass. “Here’s to surviving.”
Annja clinked her glass against his. “Always a good thing.”
“And to Gregor.”
Annja nodded. Despite the fact they’d already celebrated his death in battle with the other members of his unique fraternity, Annja still felt a lingering depression about how he had died.
Bob watched her and drank his beer. “It wasn’t your fault. You’ve got to get over it.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re not trying hard enough, Annja. You don’t go around dealing death with reckless abandon. You showed amazing courage over there and also incredible restraint. When it came down to it, you did what you absolutely had to in order to get us out of there.”
“I suppose. I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was a good man.”
“He was a spy.”
“Even so.”
“The simple fact is this—you did what you had to do. Hell, it could just as easily have been me. And you might be sitting here with Gregor instead.”
Annja smiled. “Any one of us could have died over there.”
Bob nodded.
“You been home to see your family yet?” Annja asked.
He smiled. “Saw my mom and sisters. It was great seeing them. The entire time I was on that damned gurney, all I could think about was how much I wanted to spend time with them. Stuff like that, I don’t know, it makes you appreciate the people you have.”
“Yes. I’d imagine it does.”
Bob sighed. “So, I’ve got an offer to do a documentary on what we experienced over there.”
“You do?”
“Yep. I pitched the story and they loved it. The cane helped, too. Walking wounded and all. TV execs love that crap. It’s too bad I’m so fuzzy on what actually happened. All the meds took their toll, but I’m sure I can give them a good story anyway.”
Annja shook her head. “You’re certainly getting right back on the horse again, aren’t you?”
“It’s all I know how to do.” Bob’s eyes wandered over to the bar. “Speaking of which…”
Annja saw a gorgeous blonde giving Bob the eye. She smirked. “Must be that cane of yours.”
Bob nodded. “May as well get some mileage out of it. You mind if I—?”
Annja waved him off. “Go. Find yourself a playmate. After all we’ve been through, you deserve it.”
“What about you?”
“I wasn’t the one who died and came back to life.” She nodded at the blonde. “Make sure you tell her about the resurrection. Women are suckers for that stuff.”
“Will do.” Bob slid out of the booth, grabbed his cane and his beer and hobbled over to the bar. In a few seconds he had the blonde laughing and patting him on the arm.
Annja watched him for a few more seconds. It’s so easy for some people. She sighed. It’d be nice to experience that one day myself.
“You all through feeling sorry for yourself?”
Annja looked up, ready to throw her beer in the face of the speaker, but she stopped when she saw who it was. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard there was an amazing woman here feeling down in the dumps over some particularly nasty stuff that happened in Siberia.”
“And you decided to swing by and make me feel better?”
“That was part of it.” He cleared his throat. “You mind if I sit down?”
Annja shrugged. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He slid into the booth, somehow able to squeeze his body into the small confines. As usual, he was clad head to toe in black. The cashmere turtleneck sweater seemed to hug his upper torso, showing off tight muscles and steel-strong ligaments.
He folded his hands in front of him. “Does this place serve a good drink?”
Annja shrugged. “Beer’s good.”
Garin sighed. “All right, then, I’ll have that, although it is a little bourgeois for me.”
The waitress hurried over, almost falling over herself when she looked into Garin’s eyes. He ordered and sent her on her way giggling.
Annja rolled her eyes. “Was there something you wanted, Garin? I’m not much in the mood to watch you seduce another barmaid.”
Garin leaned forward. “I’ve got something you might be interested in.”
“I’m interested in a vacation. You have one of those?”
Garin grinned. “Sun? Tropical environment? Exotic flowers?”
Annja shrugged. “It’s a start.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms, his eyes twinkling. “Then have I got the perfect trip for you.”
Annja looked at him and smiled. From somewhere inside, she started to feel better. Maybe Bob had it right after all. Best to just get back on the horse and keep riding.
She took a sip of beer. “Tell me about it.”
As Garin leaned forward and began talking, Annja let her excitement grow until it washed away all of the sadness she’d been feeling.
She was alive.
/> It felt good.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1709-0
THE SOUL STEALER
Copyright © 2008 by Worldwide Library.
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