“Do you believe that I can see things, Christopher?” asked Nadya, changing the glum subject.
“I’m not sure what to believe,” replied Sheppard honestly. “But last night, back in the fort, you knew who I was and that I was in your room, even before you entered it. That has to mean something.”
“Give me something of yours, a knife, a watch, something close to your body,” said Nadya, her eyes aglow as she held out her delicate hands.
Sheppard looked at her not sure of what was going on, but nevertheless removed his wristwatch and handed it to her.
Nadya took the watch from Sheppard, clenched it tightly in her hands, and then brought her closed hands to her chest. She held onto the watch for about thirty seconds, her heart beating wildly. Nadya slowly handed back the watch.
“Well, Nadya, what’s in store for me?” Sheppard asked half-jokingly.
Nadya, her hands shaking, reached over and took Sheppard’s hand. “Christopher, I saw the man from the fort. He was trying to kill you.”
Sheppard saw Nadya was scared. “Which man, Reimer? I don’t think so. I am fairly certain that I may have killed him,” answered Sheppard confidently.
Nadya shook her head. “No, not him…the other man.”
Sheppard said, “Which man, Nadya?”
“His name is Colonel Grusian and he is a security agent. He was there in the fort, dressed all in black, and he said that he came all the way from Moscow, just for me.”
“Well, I won’t let it happen. I’ll lay odds on it,” said Sheppard, trying to lighten the conversation and Nadya’s fears.
“Christopher, I never saw it before tonight, but I sense that things are going to go so horribly wrong tomorrow,” said Nadya trembling.
Sheppard wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Don’t you worry about tomorrow, I’ll look after you, you’ll see.”
Nadya held tightly onto Sheppard and soon fell asleep in his arms. Picking her up, Sheppard carried her over to the cart and then laid her down beside her snoring grandmother.
“God, for once I hope you’re wrong, really wrong Nadya, I truly do,” he murmured to himself as he walked back to his stool and picked up his rifle.
CHAPTER 20
COLLISION
Sheppard felt someone grab his foot and then shake it wildly, trying to wake him.
A disembodied voice seemed to be whispering to him, “Captain Sheppard…Captain, I need you to get up. I thought I heard someone.”
Elena!
Sheppard sat up instantly, looked over at Elena, and saw the fear in her eyes. He reached down and picked up his rifle. “Elena, what did you hear?” whispered Sheppard.
“I can’t be sure, but I thought I heard voices outside.”
“Mongolian?” Sheppard asked as he stood and looked around the near dark room.
“No, sir, Russian, I’m certain the voices spoke Russian. But they’re too far away for me to figure out what they were saying.”
Sheppard bit his lip. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. They could only be Reds or some of Shipov’s men. He doubted that Shipov was out there, so they had to be Reds. Sheppard checked his weapon, walked over to the cart, and saw that the Alekseevs were still fast asleep. He motioned for Elena to join him.
“Yes,” said Elena.
Sheppard said, “I’m going to see if there is anyone out there, if we’re alone, we’re leaving right away.”
Quietly moving to the door, Sheppard cautiously opened it and then peered into the dark. The rain had stopped; the night air smelt fresh. Sheppard stood there for a moment listening to the multitude of frogs and crickets making a racket all around them. He was about to close the door, when he spied movement in the distance. Sheppard’s instincts kicked in; he wasn’t sure what he had seen, but it was enough to convince him that Elena was right.
They weren’t alone anymore.
Quickly closing the door, Sheppard headed straight for the cart. Placing his hand over Nadya’s mouth, he gently shook her awake. She opened her tired eyes and looked up at Sheppard. He looked back at her and then mouthed one word—trouble. Leaving her to wake her grandmother, Sheppard started looking around inside the mill in vain for another way out. The building seemed to have only one exit - the way in. Sheppard cursed himself for not having thought about this earlier.
Suddenly the door burst open. In stepped two drenched Red soldiers, both of whom were surprised to see someone inside the mill. Elena instinctively brought up her pistol and fired twice. Both men, hit in the chest, doubled over and fell to the ground. Leaping over the two dead soldiers, Elena slammed the door shut and then picked up the dead soldiers’ weapons.
“Well, there’s going to be no hiding the fact that someone’s in here now,” said Sheppard, looking down at the dead soldiers.
“I wonder if there are any more of them out there?” said Elena.
The sound of metal sliding forward came out of the dark.
“Get down,” yelled Sheppard, just before a machine gun opened fire on the mill. Instantly, bullets ripped through the thin wooden walls, sending splinters flying in all directions, showering everyone who had taken cover on the dirt floor of the mill. Sheppard wasn’t sure how long the machine gun fired, but when it stopped, the mill looked as if it had been turned inside out.
“Everyone okay?” he called out, brushing wooden splinters from his hair.
“Yes,” replied the women one by one.
Crawling on his stomach, Sheppard inched his way forward to where the Alekseevs had gone to ground under an old sturdy wooden table. He could see that they were scared but unharmed.
A voice called to them from outside. “You…you there inside the mill, come out and you won’t be harmed.”
“That voice,” said Nadya looking at Sheppard. “I know that voice. It’s that killer from Moscow.”
“I am not known for my patience. Come out or I’ll have you all killed,” called the voice.
Sheppard rose to his feet, brushed himself off, and then walked to the door. “Hello out there. I’m coming out unarmed.”
“Come on out.”
Sheppard swung the door open, stepped outside, and saw in the dark an armored car not fifty yards away from the mill. Beside it stood a tall, broad-shouldered man who, to Sheppard, looked menacing and dangerous. He had to be the man Nadya saw was talking about. Sheppard took a deep breath and then calmly walked towards the man.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” Sheppard asked the man.
The man approached Sheppard. He was at least four inches taller than Sheppard and probably weighed a good twenty pounds more, all of it muscle.
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing out here?” demanded Grusian.
Deciding that bluff probably wouldn’t work with this man, Sheppard instead tried to play for time. “My name is Captain Christopher Sheppard, and I am here because I chose to be. Who might you be?”
Grusian looked disgusted at Sheppard’s reply. He spat on the ground and then crossed his arms. “Bah! A bloody foreigner. I should have known bankers and foreign powers were behind this counter-revolutionary activity.”
“Bankers? Well, hardly. Anyway, how may I help you, Mister …?”
“My name is Comrade Colonel Dimitri Grusian. I am a state security agent and I suspect that you have what I want.”
Sheppard crossed his arms. “Oh, and what might that be?”
“Don’t play games with me, foreigner. I could snap you in half like a twig,” Grusian snarled. “Give me the girl and you can go free. I give you my word.”
Sheppard had to suppress a laugh. “Comrade Colonel, forgive me, but I don’t think that I can take a Red agent on his word. Secondly, my mother is English and my father American. In my books, that makes you the foreigner. However, since you seem to have us in quite a dilemma, I will discuss your proposal with my associates. Give me five minutes and I’ll give you my answer.”
“Not a second more,” said Grusian. �
��Or we’ll take her from you by force and then slowly torture you to death right in front of her eyes.”
Sheppard calmly turned his back on Grusian and walked back to the mill, finding Elena and the Alekseevs waiting for him just inside the door.
“Sir, you don’t really intend to hand them over to the Reds, do you?” asked Elena.
Sheppard looked over at all the women. “I wish we had another option, but we don’t have many other realistic possibilities, now do we?”
“Hurry up,” bellowed Grusian.
“Elena, you’re going to have to get us out of this mess,” said Sheppard, taking her by the hand.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Strip and then swim out using the stream under the wheel. Find Colonel Shipov and get him to come as quick as he can. You’re our only chance for freedom.”
Without saying another word, Elena quickly took off her uniform, stuffed it into her small pack, and walked over to the cold flowing stream.
“Private Zakharov, wait, please,” said Nadya as she walked over and then handed Elena a small satchel containing her jewelry, for safekeeping.
Elena smiled. “I’ll give them back to you in a few hours.” Taking a few deep breaths, Elena disappeared under the slick black surface of the stream.
“Time’s up foreign spy. Send her out, or I’m coming in,” yelled Grusian.
Sheppard ground his teeth in frustration, threw his rifle into the stream, and then walked to the door. “Ladies, please, let’s not give him the satisfaction. Heads up, and always remember that we’re better than him,” said Sheppard as he opened the door for the Alekseevs.
Mrs. Alekseev led them out into the cool early morning.
Grusian was surprised to see another woman. “Just who the hell are you?” he asked.
“I am Madame Alekseev, and this is Nadya, my granddaughter, whom I believe you have already met,” calmly replied Mrs. Alekseev.
Grusian walked towards the elder Alekseev. A crooked smile crept across his face. “I met your husband once. He was scum, a traitor, just like you. I was only too happy to shoot him myself,” Grusian added, trying to get a rise out of her.
Mrs. Alekseev simply looked past him, displaying what Sheppard thought was the greatest display of sangfroid he had ever seen in his life.
Grusian pushed past Mrs. Alekseev and grabbed Nadya roughly by the arm. “Ah, the parlor trick girl. I now have the last eagle from a very empty nest. I hope you are good at telling your own future?”
Nadya Alekseev didn’t say a word; she just looked stoically forward, like her grandmother.
“Have it your way, ladies. Place them in the armored car,” Grusian said, to the nearest security soldiers.
Sheppard stood there helplessly watching the women being led away to Grusian's waiting vehicle.
“Now, foreign spy,” Grusian said menacingly, as he walked towards Sheppard. “Do you know what we do with foreign spies?”
“You let them go?” offered Sheppard.
Grusian bared his teeth and then shot his right fist hard into Sheppard’s stomach, instantly causing him to double over in pain.
“Wrong answer!” yelled Grusian as he brought his fist down on hard Sheppard’s back, knocking him to the muddy ground. “We shoot them as enemies of the people and the revolution,” said Grusian as he walked around Sheppard, like a wolf looking for its moment to strike.
Sheppard tried to stand, but Grusian delivered a swift, sharp kick to his ribs, sending him flying fall back onto the wet ground, writhing in pain.
“I would love to kill you but a public trial in Moscow, followed by a swift execution covered by the foreign press, would better serve the State than if I were to simply put a bullet in your head in the middle of nowhere,” said Grusian.
Pain seemed to be everywhere. Sheppard rolled around in the dirt, trying to catch his breath. His chest hurt like hell and he could taste the coppery flavour his own blood in his mouth.
“Tie him up and bring him with us,” Grusian said to the Red cavalry sergeant.
Sheppard knew he was losing consciousness. His vision narrowed. The world slowly closed in around him, and then there was nothing.
Elena Zakharov slowly lifted her head out of the cold stream and looked back towards the mill. She saw Sheppard’s body being dragged away by two Red soldiers who then callously threw his body onto a machine gun cart. Slowly, she crawled out of the stream and watched as the Reds, led by an armored car, turned about and then headed leisurely back towards Turta. Elena shivered and then suddenly remembered that she wasn’t dressed. Putting her uniform back on, Elena gritted her teeth, she was furious at what had happened to them. She wanted desperately to help, but she knew Sheppard was right—she had to go and get help. Slinging her rifle on her back, Elena looked up into the sky, found the North Star, judged which way was west and then started to jog towards the railway tracks. Finding them, she allowed herself a quick triumphant smile and then took off as fast as she could down the tracks. She didn’t know how long it would be until she found Colonel Shipov; she didn’t care, either. Elena Zakharov was as mad as hell and she intended to make the Reds pay.
Sheppard felt himself rocking back and forth as if he were in a boat somewhere out on the waves. A sudden sharp pain shot through his side, reminding him that he had been hurt. Struggling through the haze clouding his mind, he opened his weary eyes and tried to determine where he was and what time of the day it was. All he could see were clouds floating above him in a deep blue sky. His wrists felt like they were on fire. Sheppard tried to move his hands, but found they were firmly tied behind his back.
“Hey spy, your head hurt?” said one of the Red cavalrymen riding beside him in the cart.
Sheppard tried to roll over, but the pain was excruciating, so he gave up trying. He looked towards the west and saw that the sun was high in the sky…he guessed that it was sometime around noon. He had been out for at least eight hours.
“My friend asked you a question, you foreign bastard,” said another Red soldier, with a thick, dirty black beard.
“I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking,” croaked Sheppard, his mouth dry and parched
“That’s too bad for you. Foreign spies are nothing more than bourgeoisie trash. I hope I get a chance to see you swing,” the first cavalryman taunted.
Sheppard struggled to turn so he could see his tormentors. He got up on his good side and then looked up at the Red soldiers. “Well, gents, I hope not to disappoint you,” said Sheppard, mustering up all the defiance he could.
“Screw you, you bastard,” said the bearded soldier, who leaned over the cart and brought his rifle down sharply on Sheppard’s skull.
A bolt of pain shot and nausea surged through Sheppard’s body followed mercifully by blackness.
It was all taking far too long. Grusian was growing restless. He knew the armoured car could easily outpace its cavalry escort, but he couldn’t afford to move around in unknown territory by himself, especially now that he had in his possession such a valuable prize. Turning in his seat to face the Alekseevs, Grusian decided to pass the time by tormenting his prisoners.
“So, Mrs. Alekseev, how do you feel to be a prisoner of the State?” asked Grusian
Mrs. Alekseev turned her head and stared frostily at Grusian.
“Nothing to say? What’s the matter? I hope you feel better when we reach Moscow. A trial with a silent, but guilty, defendant will make for boring press,” said Grusian with a crooked smile on his face. “The people will want more from you than silence.”
“Leave her alone. You’re despicable,” snapped Nadya.
“Ah, at last, the little one shows that she has spirit. Did your grandmother tell you that I shot your grandfather in the head with this pistol?” Grusian said scornfully, as he showed Nadya his sidearm. “Well, child, did she?”
“Comrade Colonel, I know what you claim to have done, but I do not believe that you killed my grandfather.”
“No?
Why not? I was there, and I can assure you one hundred percent that I did kill him.”
Nadya Alekseev smiled at Grusian and then continued. “Well, let’s not go in circles on this one, shall we, Colonel? It would have taken a real man to have killed my grandfather, and I for one don’t see one sitting in front of me.”
Grusian bared his teeth in anger. He thought about hitting her but fought to control his temper. Changing tactics, he said, “How do you do it, girl? How do you do your little magic tricks?”
“They’re not tricks, Colonel, I can, and do, see things that haven’t happened yet. Surely, you remember what happened in the fort. I told you your future, and it’s not pretty.”
Grusian leaned as far as he could in his seat towards Nadya. “I don’t believe you. You may have been able to fool that drugged up White simpleton, but you don’t fool me, not for one minute child.”
“Believe what you want, Colonel. I know what lies ahead for both of us, and I am not afraid of it, or you,” said Nadya, with a smile.
“Shut up, you whore!” growled Grusian. He had had enough of this game.
In a fit, Grusian, turned about and faced forward, looking out the vehicle’s narrow viewport. Though he didn’t believe the little witch, he couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to fool so many people for so long.
The track seemed to travel on forever. Every bend in the track was met by mile after mile of additional railway track. Elena’s feet felt like raw hamburger inside her worn leather boots. She knew her feet, if she were to take off her boots, would be bloodied and covered in blisters. Her mouth was parched. Her water had run out hours ago. Elena kept singing childhood lullabies to herself as she plodded along, fighting the feeling that she might pass out at any moment. Knowing that she had to keep going no matter what, she pushed herself to find every last ounce of strength that she still had inside herself.
The Last Eagle (A Christopher Sheppard Adventure Book 1) Page 23