by L. T. Ryan
He scratched his beard. “Maybe we should head over.”
I looked out into the black of night. “I’d prefer to stay right here for now.”
“You afraid of the boogeyman, Jack?”
“I’m afraid of being detained in Russia while here on an SIS badge. Let’s just hang tight and see what happens.”
Lexi slipped past Bear and stood next to me. She was holding the satellite phone David had given her before we boarded. “Want me to give him a ring and find out what’s going on?”
A stream of red arced through the air from the driver’s side of the car and hit the ground with a mini fireworks display. The driver flashed his high-beams then pulled forward. The black sedan rolled to a stop ten feet from us. The windows were tinted. A whiff of cigar smoke streamed past as the front door opened.
The man that stepped out was about my height and probably ten years older. He wore all black and made no effort to conceal the pistol strapped to his leg. He stripped off the glove on his right hand and extended it toward Lexi.
“I am Artur. I assume you are Lexi, yes?”
She nodded, pulled away from his grip. He grabbed my hand, and I saw why she reacted the way she did. His skin was colder than death.
“Jack,” I said. “That’s Riley up there. He’s got a fear of Russia, so he’s hesitant to come down off the stairs.”
Artur stepped back, arms out, and turned at the waist. “Nothing to fear here. This is the Motherland. You are welcome and safe while under my protection.”
“How much did David tell you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “More than enough.”
“Why should we trust you?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, tossed it to me. “Know what that is?”
I knew what it was as I’d received one from the President as well. I handed it back to him. “Aside from David, who else do you work with? Feed intel to?”
He sliced his hand in front of his throat. “Only him. He can deal with all those other, ah, dicks. Those bastards left a bad taste in my mouth.”
“Then why help out at all?”
“I love my country. Hate the direction it is going. Maybe you help? Yeah? Isn’t that enough?”
I knew there was far more to the story than that, but didn’t get the feeling that pushing him would result in any more background info being divulged. The running theme for the past day had been In David We Trust. That now extended to Russia.
“Before we get in the vehicle, I have things for you.” He reached into his pocket and a few moments later the trunk lid popped open.
We followed him around the back of the sedan. There were three duffel bags arranged in a line. Artur reached for the first one, handed it to Lexi. The next one went to Bear. And the final one he tossed in my direction.
“Keep you sharp. Yeah?” he said, grinning.
“Yeah, whatever, man.” I unzipped the bag and pulled the flaps back. Inside were clothes, probably two changes, a hardshell Hechler and Koch case, a box of ammunition, a knife, a cell phone, a wallet, money clip, and passport holder.
“These clean?” Bear held his passport up.
“Crystal,” Artur said.
“Close enough,” Bear said. “But let me warn you, I get any trouble at all with this—”
“Riley,” Lexi said. “We can verify with David. If there’s any issues, any flags raised, he’ll get it resolved without us even having to swap out creds.”
I popped open the firearm case. A .40 caliber USP Tactical pistol with a threaded barrel greeted me, along with two extra magazines and a black suppressor. It was a larger handgun, and that didn’t bother me one bit. Bear was outfitted with the same. Lexi was issued a Glock 19.
“Happy?” Artur asked.
We all nodded. I was impressed a phone had been included, though we were better off buying burners at the first opportunity in order to minimize the risk of being tracked. Nothing was untraceable. If they had video footage of us entering a drug store and making the purchase, all they needed was the store’s receipt, then they could get the number and track it from there. The chance of that happening was minuscule, and a risk I’d take a hundred times out of a hundred.
Bear and I took the backseat while Lexi and Artur climbed in front. Artur fiddled with the console, pulling up a map. I studied the pink navigation line that zigzagged across a span of a hundred miles.
“That our coordinates at the end?” I asked.
“Yes,” Artur said. “Supplied by David.”
“You mind if Lexi re-enters that information?”
The car fell silent for a few moments. Artur’s ever-present smile diminished while he stared at me in the rearview. Trust was a fickle beast, and it didn’t take much to ruin it between two people who hardly knew each other, but who could probably figure out everything about each other because of similar experiences.
He nodded a couple times. The smile returned to his face. “I don’t see that as a problem. I can understand your, how you say, apprehension. In fact, Lexi, while you do that, I’ll place a phone call.”
Lexi fingered the GPS buttons and worked the coordinates into the machine. Over the vehicle’s speakers a phone started ringing.
“Yeah, Artur, what’s up?” David said.
“Just trying to ease our more experienced passenger’s mind.”
David laughed. “Jack, believe me, you can trust Artur with your life.”
“A lot of trust being asked here,” I said. “Can you tell me what we’re gonna find at the other end of this drive?”
“I’ve pinpointed it exactly, Jack. Brought it up using a long-forgotten-about spy satellite. We’re looking at a small building north side of the city. Been monitoring it for the past four hours, almost ever since you gave me those coords. Tell you, I haven’t seen a single person come or go. You hit it fast, and you hit it hard, and there shouldn’t be any issues.”
“Shouldn’t,” I muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Keep your eyes on it and let us know if anything changes.”
“Will do,” he said.
“What about our friends? Any word on them?” I caught Artur looking at me in the mirror again.
“They’ve gone dark,” David said. “Can’t stay that way forever, though. I’ll find them.”
Artur was still staring at me after we ended the call. His smile had faded again.
“Help you?” I said.
“What friends?” he said.
I shrugged. “Better not be anybody you know, cause then that means we’d have a problem.”
He turned at the waist in order to face me. “A friend of mine, a woman, she—”
“OK, we’re all set,” Lexi said. “He had us programmed for the right location.”
Artur broke his stare off and turned his head toward Lexi. “See, good news. Let’s go.”
I played his words over in my head. A friend…a woman.
Was he talking about Christiana?
58
Artur dropped us off a half-mile east of our destination. The wind whipped hard from the northwest, blowing fat, wet snow in our faces. The smell of the sedan’s exhaust lingered for a minute. I couldn’t tell if the wind blew it away, or if my nose had frozen to the point that I could no longer smell. The taillights faded into the white blur and the gusts overtook the engine.
Artur hadn’t elaborated on his comment about his female friend. I thought he’d be present for the rest of the mission, so I didn’t push him on it. I had to fend off the curiosity for now. Chances are we’d see him again once we were finished. I could ask then.
We trudged through eight inches of fresh powder that sat on top of a winter’s worth of packed snow and ice. The boots I had on did a fine job of keeping my feet dry. The rest of the gear kept most of the cold out. Artur had supplied us well. Bear led the way, navigating from memory. Lexi stuck to the middle, while I watched our six. The streets were deserted, making my job relatively
easy. I scanned each building, every window, looking for peering eyes or any other sign of a lookout. Few windows were lit with shades drawn open. It wasn’t the poorest area in Moscow, but to call it affluent would be a lie.
The sound of voices rose as we neared the first intersection. All three of us reached for our concealed weapons. Call it training, or instinct, or whatever. My gloved hand tightened around the pistol grip. The usual sense of security that provided me wasn’t there. Even though I had inspected the pistol and noted that it had been freshly oiled, this was the first time I’d handled it, and I found it difficult to trust a firearm I’d never shot.
I moved ahead, crossed the threshold first with Bear a step or two behind. The alley was lit up, fire bellowing from an oil drum. Rising smoke looked black against the oncoming snow. I counted seven people huddled around the blaze, bare hands dancing with the fire.
“Homeless,” Bear said. “Keep moving.”
I watched the group as we passed. All but one paid no attention to us. The one that did, however, stuck out. He was young and clean-shaven. The flame colored his face red. He watched me through narrowed eyes with his hands stretched out toward the can. I kept my hand on the pistol. Less than twenty yards separated us and he was lit up like a Christmas tree. If this guy made a move, I’d fire a round into his chest without hesitating.
We cleared the alley and pushed forward another block. I watched the street and buildings less, kept glancing back toward the alley. We turned right, traveled another block, then went left. A loud pop rang out. Streetlights in every direction began blinking on and off before fading into darkness like a long line of dominoes falling.
“That’s convenient,” Bear said.
I nodded as a similar thought crossed my mind.
“Could just be the storm,” Lexi said. “We’re in Moscow, not New York or Chicago. The infrastructure here is horrible.”
The hum of generators began to fill the air. I caught whiffs of diesel and pulled my scarf over my nose to filter it out.
Clinging to the shadows, we kept moving until our destination was in sight. Bear climbed a wide stairway and ducked into an alcove in front of an entry door. From there he and Lexi watched over the entrance of the building across the street, while I backtracked half a block. I walked up the closest cross-street and stepped into a back alley. Surveillance showed that it ran directly behind the target building. There appeared to be one exit square in the middle of the building and fire escapes up to the roof on either side of that.
I moved slowly through the undisturbed snow. Tucked between four and five story buildings, the sounds of generators and wind gusts were blocked out. It was serene back here. Might as well have been hiking in the mountains. Flakes hitting the ground sounded like cockroaches crawling around. My eyes adjusted over the next few minutes to the contrast between white and black. There were people tucked into overhangs and exits, wrapped in tattered blankets and newspaper, just trying to make it through the night. I tuned in to their coughs, sniffles, cries. They shifted as I passed, retreating behind their makeshift homes rather than attacking.
The exit came into view. I retrieved the pistol and, with no fear of local authorities spotting me, held it out in the open. I pulled out the phone Artur provided from my pack, navigated to the speed dial and made the call.
“You in position?” Bear asked.
“Good to go back here,” I said.
“All right. Lexi contacted David and he said nothing’s changed and no one has come or gone since the blackout.”
“He have any ideas on that issue?”
“Yeah, he said a transformer blew about a quarter-mile from here. Already determined that it’s due to the storm. Nothing nefarious going on.”
“I can live with that.” I took a few steps out of the shadows, stood in front of the door. “What else did he say?”
“Call got dropped. She tried reaching him again, but there’s nothing happening. Must be something with the satellite. Too much interference. Again, storm related.”
“Sounds like we’re good to go. Let’s not waste any more time. Count me down, partner.”
Bear started at ten and worked down to five. The call ended. They were almost in position. I moved forward, continuing where he left off.
Four…three…two…one.
I reached for the handle and turned it. It gave without hesitation. The hallway was aglow with red emergency lights along the baseboards. Warm air thick with propane coated me as I moved through the corridor. A baby’s cries slipped through the cracks of the first apartment I passed. His mother sang softly to him. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tune was one hummed around the world.
It wasn’t a shotgun hallway offering me a view straight through to the front door. Instead, the wall stuck out in places, forcing me to move left, then right, and finally left once again before I reached the front of the building. A spike of cold air raced past as the door hung open a couple inches. Lexi stood next to it, pistol out, aimed upward. She held a single finger to her mouth. I slowed my pace, leaning close to each apartment I passed, listening for movement within. Since the first one, I hadn’t heard another sound. I glanced at my watch and calculated that the time was after ten at night. Most people would’ve been in bed by now. Or maybe the place was deserted. I wouldn’t put it past certain people coming in and taking over a building like this.
The howling wind through the corridor ceased when the front door sucked shut. Lexi remained focused on the stairwell in front of her. She nodded a few times, then shifted her gaze toward me while waving me forward. Once I was clear of the hallway, she ascended two steps at a time. I followed close behind, throwing a glance back at the front entrance every few seconds.
We stood with Bear on the second-floor landing, each of us watching a section of the hall or stairwell.
“What do you think?” Bear said.
“We’re in the right place according to the coords,” Lexi said. “But now…I’m not sure.”
“I don’t think any of us are.” I took my eyes off the front door and looked up the next set of stairs. “There has to be some connection to Thanos here. You think there’s a mail room here? Something with names?”
Bear pointed to the closest apartment with the barrel of his weapon. Next to the door was a black mailbox mounted to the wall.
“I guess we can start waking people up,” he said. “With no power, it’d be thirty minutes, maybe more before the cops show up if someone calls.”
I shook my head. “What’re we gonna do? Go in and tell them Thanos was assassinated, where’s his grandma? There’s gotta be something else here.”
“It’d help if we knew what we’re here for,” Bear said.
“Someone’s gotta know,” I said. “Why else kill Thanos? They wanted the secret to die with him. They sure as hell didn’t count on us getting this close. The coordinates got us here. But there’s gotta be something more to the code.”
Lexi swung her head left to right. “Look at the numbers.”
The stickers affixed to the doors looked like they were painted in blood amid the emergency lights.
“What about them?” I asked.
She pointed at the four closest apartments. “Every one begins with two-two.”
I ran through the first floor hall in my memory. “It was the same downstairs.” I thought I knew where she was going with this. The coordinates started with five-five. “This building’s only four stories tall, though.”
“What were the last two digits of the latitude?” Her eyes widened as she waited for me to answer.
“Four-four,” I said.
“And zero-five were the last two of the longitude.” Bear lifted his hands over his head, held his pistol in the air. “What are the chances?”
He led the way to the fourth floor. Gusts of wind rattled the exterior windows, whistling through the cracks. The bitter cold hadn’t set into the building yet, but there were more drafts the higher we climbed.
/> We stopped three steps shy of the fourth floor landing and waited. I listened over the sounds of our rising and falling breaths. A floor creak disturbed the quiet. Bear looked to me to see if I’d heard it, too. There was another creak, then the sound of footsteps.
Someone was in the hallway walking toward us.
59
I gestured for Lexi to fall back. Her eyes burned at me, but she did as requested, retreating to the mid-floor landing and keeping an eye on the stairwell.
Bear pressed his back against the wall, flattening himself as much as possible. I moved past him, stopped at the corner of the wall, took a deep breath. The steps were only feet away. They came to a halt. It sounded as though someone dragged a broom on the ground. The person was walking away.
I stepped out from behind the wall and took in the surroundings. The hallway was lit up red like the others. A man dressed in fatigues and carrying a rifle moved toward the other end of the hallway. He stopped, slowly turned his head to the right.
Grimacing against the pain in my calf, I pulled the knife from my belt, rushed forward, wrapped my left arm around his neck. He raised his rifle, but I quickly threaded my right arm through his, torquing it at an unnatural angle at the elbow. He lost control of the rifle. It hit the floor with a thud. The guy tried to stomp his heel on my foot. I pushed my left hip into him, withdrew my right leg, and plunged the knife into his neck. His body stiffened for a moment, then he started flailing his arms. I leaned back, drawing him off his feet, over my hip. My wounds ached, but with every passing second the pain dulled. Warm blood spilled onto my cheek. I bit down hard, clamped my eyes and lips shut.
A few seconds later his body went limp. It was over. I eased myself upright, letting the guy slide to the floor. Bear scooped up the rifle and found a cell phone as he rummaged through the guy’s pockets. He handed the firearm to me while he worked the phone’s lock screen. He knelt down, grabbed the dead guy’s arm, and placed his thumb on the home button. A lit up blank screen appeared. Bear accessed the phone’s apps, but it looked like a stock setup, and chances were it was not the man’s personal device, rather a work phone. Maybe someone else could get some intel off of it. Bear pocketed the device.