The Bear

by Bob Thomas

  “They’re drinking right along with their customers,” Danil noted. “Stupid.”

  “But they’re used to it,” Sasha said in almost a whisper. “This is their world, not ours. And, they know where the walls are. We’re guessing at everything we do. All the alcohol does is shift the odds a little in our favor.”

  Sasha sipped his drink slowly as he began to think about the next couple hours. He noted Ivan and Polina in the corner, then not. They were mixing and socializing. They were trying to fit in. It worked for them being closer in age to the average person jumping around on the dance floor. Sweat was mixing with booze. He realized you could plop this club down anywhere in the civilized world and you couldn’t tell where you were. Youth was full of optimism; he was almost a lost cause.

  Danil looked at his watch as the last hour began to close down. He slid his empty glass into the middle of the bar, tossed his money on to the wet surface and pulled his coat tightly around himself. He nodded to the man sitting next to him and hit the exit, the cold night air pushing through the door as he left. His car was just a brief walk down the street. The nondescript auto had everything they needed.

  The end of the night was coming quickly as couples and the last of the desperate, single loners looked to walk out the door with someone in the late-night hours. The men in the dark corner booth began to stir and make their way out into the club as the last of their patrons filed out the door. Anya laid her hand on Sasha’s arm, giving a tug as one of the Russians approached.

  “Come on love,” she said. “It’s time to go.”

  Sasha wavered as if he had drunk just a little too much liquid relaxation. He looked up as a heavy-set Russian stepped to his side.

  “Time to go.” His words were not as polite as Anya’s. “Do as your little lady asked.” He reached down and laid his thick hand on Sasha’s shoulder.

  “I’m going,” Sasha replied. He looked up from the stool with a gentle smile. The big Russian smirked as he helped Sasha to his feet.

  Sasha waved his hand as Anya wrapped her arm around his and she guided him toward the door. Sasha slid his hands inside his pockets, pulling the flaps of his coat around to the front. It would be cold outside. He turned and smiled as Anya pushed through the door while he held it open an extra second. The next sound was as unexpected as it was distinct, and everyone in the club knew what it was.

  The round slammed into the big Russian who grabbed his chest as he fell to the side, his knees buckling instantly. He was dead before he hit the floor. Ivan and Polina crashed through the doors as the Russians scattered. They dove behind the bar and beneath tables, any place to avoid the bullets. Polina rolled to the right and shot off a burst at the table. Their targets cleared like rats. The spray was enough to tear the cheap wood trim to shards as Danil rushed through the door. Sasha and Anya grabbed the assault rifles Danil left on the sidewalk and followed him in, ducking off to the left with Ivan. Danil ran straight ahead, making for a half-wall near the dance floor. They were in!

  Ivan peered around a booth as the first shots were returned. He ducked as Polina returned covering fire. Danil made the bar and slid behind it, surprising the Russian hiding there. A single slug meant two down. The bar was the most solid wall to be behind, but it was open at the end. He looked up just as a large, blond Russian raised a pistol in his direction. A blistering salvo cut him down, throwing him against a column to his right, his blood a smeared streak as his body slid down the white plaster. Anya appeared in his place and waved Danil forward.

  “Up the stairs!” Sasha yelled, his first words in English in over a week. He cursed himself for his stupidity. Their prime target had fled to the second story.

  A few stray rounds made their way back into the bar as three of the Russians crashed through the rear doors of the kitchen and out into the alley. Sasha was sure they were headed for the warehouse behind. ‘Three down’, he thought.

  Polina crouched at the bottom of the stairs around the corner by the kitchen. Commotion from the second floor froze her. She tucked the assault rifle close against her ribs and took a deep breath. She turned quickly as a burst came down the stairs obliterating the railing beside her. She felt a sting on her right arm and knew what it meant. Ivan slid to the floor beside her.

  “You okay?”

  He received a nod in reply. She pointed up the stairs and then to the ceiling. People were up there. Another burst peppered the stair treads causing them to turn away. They couldn’t sit here. Ivan leaned back and pulled Polina with him. She flinched as he grabbed her arm but said nothing. She could hear herself breathing heavily, could feel the sweat running beneath her clothing. Sasha stepped over the dead blond Russian and leaned against the blood-stained column.

  “We aren’t equipped to go up a stair. We don’t know who’s up there.”

  “Boris is up there,” Polina replied. “I saw him.”

  “I did too. That’s where we need to focus.”

  “We can’t just leave the others behind. They need to be taken out.”

  Sasha nodded. It was outside of the prime mission objective, but he didn’t want to leave loose ends. He waved Anya and Danil over. No one else seemed to be left on the main floor of the club. The Russians were caught off guard and fled. Anya leaned into the wall, sighing heavily.

  “Everyone okay?” Sasha looked over his team. Danil stayed behind the bar keeping his rifle trained on the door. He didn’t want any surprises from that direction. “Ivan, you, Polina and I will go after the three. If we don’t engage them in five minutes, we’ll come back here.” The mission commander looked up to Anya. “Can you and Danil get up to the second floor?”

  “Piece of cake,” Anya replied. “Done it a hundred times in training exercises.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Sasha nodded toward the kitchen door, hiked his rifle and rolled off the bloodied column. Ivan and Polina followed closely, keeping low between the kitchen counters. No surprises. They reached the open door and stopped, peering into the darkness. The alley was nearly as black as charcoal, the strip unlit in the early morning hours. Polina looked around the kitchen as she held her rifle against her chest. The place was a disgusting mess.

  “Christ, I’m glad we didn’t order any food in this dump.”

  “Clear,” Sasha whispered.

  They slid silently into the alley, the light from the kitchen throwing their shadows before them like specters. The path they needed was easy to follow, the door in front of them into the warehouse, wide open. They fell against the cold exterior walls with their weapons up. Sasha cocked his head, peering inside. He stepped in and slid to the floor behind the first thing he could find. Ivan and Polina jumped to his left, coming to rest behind a backhoe. They were quickly greeted with bullets ricocheting off the thick metal. Ivan’s eyes went wide at the sound.

  “Damn!”

  “Is our five minutes up?” Polina asked with a smirk.

  Sasha replied with a salvo directed toward the oncoming fire. The short burst echoed in the low light. The warehouse sounded nearly empty. He counted the seconds to himself. Ten, twenty. He would move on twenty-five. He stood only to be greeted with a cascade of bullets. He ducked quickly behind his shield. Polina pointed her rifle through an opening and squeezed off several rounds. Sasha jumped at the opportunity to move up the side to the next object. Their movement went on for several minutes as each laid down covering fire for the other to jump ahead. It was a classic army tactic.

  They were half-way across the warehouse when Ivan slid down behind a pile of burlap sacks, next to a door. A burst from above forced him to duck as the rounds thumped into the sacks. He was breathing heavily, the sweat now rolling down his forehead. Footsteps from above were quickly silenced as Polina returned fire. The body hit the concrete floor with a dull crack, the bones splintering as the lifeless body landed awkwardly. She slid in beside him and leaned her head against the sacks.

  “I don’t know what is in these bags, but I’m glad
as hell they’re here.”

  The sound of metal raking across metal brought their attention back to their situation. A door; an overhead door sliding along its rails echoed through the warehouse followed by running footsteps. A burst of light blazed into the darkness before being extinguished by the closing door. Twenty seconds passed without a sound.

  “It’s over.” Sasha’s voice broke the silence. “They’re gone. We need to get back to the club. Let’s go.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure, Ivan. Let’s go help the others before reinforcements arrive.”

  “You want to go up first?”

  “Me? You’d probably put a bullet up my butt,” Danil chuckled.

  “Only if I wanted to, Danil.” Anya waved her hand toward the stairs. “I’ll lay up a burst and you need to move as fast as you can and get your ass up there. There’s a lot of steps. You’ve got to hustle.”

  Danil nodded as he took a deep breath. Air Force life was nothing like this. This was Army crap. He should be cruising above the clouds in the wild blue yonder or sitting behind a desk pushing papers. He let his lungs slowly deflate, turned toward Anya and nodded. She pointed her rifle directly up and flooded the ceiling with bullets. The sound of scampering feet told her there was more than one up there. She leveled her sights and sprayed the upper platform of the stairs, the bullets ripping through the drywall until there was nothing left. Danil took his cue and sprinted up, his feet feeling like lead as he struggled to make the top. He landed on the last step falling short of the floor, tucked his rifle around the corner and shot off a burst. Anya was standing at his feet seconds later.

  “Go go go,” she urged.

  Danil scurried onto the floor and slammed himself into the wall. Anya followed close behind. Ahead was a closed door and an open door frame to their left. Anya pumped several bursts into the open doorway and charged inside. She was greeted by a spray of gunfire that flew out the opening, peppering the wall where Danil stood. His eyes went wide as he felt a round tear into his thigh. He dove to the floor, crossing the threshold of the opening. His leg burned like fire as it scraped across the floor. Someone on the other side of the dark room stood, extended his arms and pulled the trigger, losing everything in the clip. It was all he had left. Danil raised his rifle and cut him down in a burst.

  “Anya.”

  “Here.” She stood, then lowered herself to a crouch. “Check him out and see if it’s our guy. I’m going down the hall to the door.” She was out into the hall before Danil could object, or even cry in pain. Seconds later, a burst of gunfire echoed back down the hall. He felt his breath leave him again.

  Several minutes passed before he felt the urge to move. His leg was throbbing. He reached down and pulled back a handful of blood, then wiped his palm across his pant leg. Danil left his rifle on the floor and crawled over to the body that was sprawled across the desk his target had been hiding behind. Danil pulled himself up to look. It was Boris. ‘Where was Anya?’ he thought. She’s been gone too long.

  “So, things have not gone exactly as I planned.”

  Danil turned at the unexpected voice to see a figure silhouetted by the dim light of the hallway. He took a step in, leveling a pistol in Danil’s direction.

  “It’s him. We got him.”

  “And that is too bad, my friend.”

  “Donald, what?” Danil was confused. He turned and leaned against the wooden desk as the blood from his leg smeared across the floor. “He’s dead.”

  “Well, that is one consolation,” Donald said as he walked into the room. “I’d hoped my friends would have done a better job of killing you all off. Since there’s no one in the club downstairs, I assume you are the last one left.” Donald took a step closer and picked up the assault rifle. “Now I won’t need to work around him.”

  “I don’t understand.” Danil’s head was beginning to spin. “We got the caller. We got Boris.” He leaned forward resting his head in his hands. He was dizzy. Nothing was making sense.

  “You got Boris,” Donald said as he smiled. “You didn’t get the caller. He was nothing but a pawn. And a rather stupid one at that.” Donald took another step forward. “Didn’t you think finding him was rather easy?”

  “But the number. They saw you call it. He answered it.”

  “They saw me dial a number from nothing more than a digital display. I called a number I knew would be answered.”

  “But the device …”

  “This?” Donald shrugged as he pulled the small black box from his pocket. “This is nothing more than a digital box I can key any number into.” The CIA agent tossed it on the floor. “It’s worthless, a child’s toy. You’ve been had.”

  “What about the calls? Why are you doing this?”

  “Don’t you get it? I made the calls,” Donald laughed. “I grew tired of the honorable undercover war. Everyone here was making a profit but me. I wanted, I needed some of the cash that was rolling into the country.” He took another step forward and leveled the gun at Danil’s face. “I earned it. All the years I hid in this retched place and what do I have to show for it? Not a damn thing.”

  “Who is it that I just killed then?”

  “Oh, he’s someone important. He’s the son of a real Russian mafia head. Unfortunately, this mafia head has no idea what’s been going on. I’ve set the wheels in motion. I’ve invested heavily in the Russian military contractors. This war will start, and I’ll get my money, and all I have to do is let the war machine do its thing.”

  Danil began to shake. He was tired; exhausted. He could feel the cold beginning to settle in. This wasn’t what he thought it would be. He pulled his hand over his thigh and felt the hole in his leg. It burned, like the air that surged in and out of his lungs. He felt helpless; sick to his stomach.

  “So my friend. Your time has come. I’m certain the others, whoever is left, will be hunted down once Boris’ father becomes aware of what’s happened. And that won’t take very long. I’ll make sure of that.” Donald’s grin widened as he stared at Danil. “Goodbye, my friend”

  Three shots rang out above the club, an empty, rundown shell caught in the grasp of a cold Russian night.

  “Fucking bastard,” Anya yelled as Donald’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

  Anya ducked into the room at the sound of footsteps frantically climbing the stairs. She took cover behind a desk and trained her weapon on the door.

  “Anya!”

  “Here, Sasha!” She rose from her position letting her weapon fall as Sasha led the others inside.

  “We’re all fine. Did we get him?”

  “We’re clear here.” Anya looked down to Danil who lay still against the desk, then up to Boris’ lifeless body. “Oh damn,” she said under her breath as she quickly knelt down to Danil. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I got him,” Danil said weakly. “I got him.”

  “And who got you?” Anya pulled apart the hole in his trouser to see the damage. It wasn’t pretty. “Someone give me a belt.” Anya worked feverishly on Danil to lessen the flow of blood, pulling the belt around his thigh. She could only hope the bullet hadn’t hit a major vessel.

  “What the hell happened here?” Sasha turned the other body on the floor over and was shocked. “Donald?”

  “It’s a rather long story,” Anya replied. “Danil? How do you feel?”

  “I’m okay. At least my head isn’t spinning any longer.”

  “Can you get to your feet?”

  “With a little help, I think.”

  Ivan bent down and hauled Danil to his feet practically by himself. Danil leaned against the desk and ran his blood-soaked hands across his face and through his hair.

  “Oh, that’s a much better look,” Polina remarked.

  “Anya. What the hell is going on?”

  “We don’t have time to stand here and recount the whole story Sasha. We need to get to the car. I’ll tell you then.”

  “Time to make
our exit, folks. Ivan, get Danil down the steps. Polina, you’re our driver now.” Sasha waved his hand toward the door. “Anya, take the point. Let’s make sure there isn’t anyone hiding down there.”

  Anya nodded and raised the PP-2000 to shoulder level. It was time to clear the road. She moved out the door to the stair and listened for … anything. Quiet. Ivan wrapped Danil’s arm around his neck, holding him up as Anya took her initial steps down the stairs. She froze at the first creak of the floor tread. Another step down as her team made the top of the stairs. She landed with a hop and trained her rifle around the club. It was empty. She waved them down emphatically.

  “Hurry!”

  Anya was at the door seconds later with Polina at her side. The doors were solid wood, nothing to see through. They looked at each other and Anya nodded, then leaned her shoulder into the door. The sliver of light from Moscow’s night slipped in. The street seemed quiet, the dirty snow a blanket to the world. She could see the car sitting in the shadows and it felt a thousand miles away. She waved them forward, Danil hopping on his good leg between Ivan and Sasha. Anya held the door as Polina slipped out into the street.

  “Should we bring the car up?”

  “Let’s just get to it. We can’t afford to stay here any longer. I don’t know if anyone heard the shooting, but I’m sure whoever got away is bringing someone back.”

  “Someone got away?” Anya was wide-eyed in disbelief. “What the hell?”

  “We followed them into the warehouse, but we couldn’t get close enough. At least one got away,” Sasha replied. “We’ve got to move, now.”

  Danil and Ivan stumbled through the door and the team was out into the street, the cold from winter’s night raking across their sweaty, exposed skin. Polina sprinted toward the car. Every second counted as Ivan and Sasha dragged Danil forward. Anya reached the car second and had the doors open on the running vehicle. She stood there silently trying to drag them forward.