Snow Wolf (77 page)

Lebel frowned. "May I be permitted
an observation? After four years in the French Resistance, a man gets to know
when he's being sold a stinker. And something definitely stinks about this
whole arrangement. I suppose it's no use asking what's really going on between
you and Lukin?"

"No use at all."

Lebel shrugged and nodded toward the
train. "It seems you have a farewell in store, my friend. I'd better see
what's keep ing Nicolai."

As Anna handed her daughter to lrena and
came toward them, Lebel shuffled toward the train.

Then Anna's arms were around Stanski's
neck and she pulled him to her tightly.

"What Lukin did, I don't know how to
thank him."

"Look after his wife, that'll be
thanks enough."

She looked into his face. "You and
Lukin aren't really going to join us later, are you?"

"Oh, I don't know about that."

She studied him, her eyes wet.
"That's a lie, Alex, and you know it. Please ... it's not too late to
change your mind."

"Far too late, I'm afraid."

And then her lips were on his and he
heard her sobbing. Finally he broke away. For a long time he looked at her
face, then his hand brushed against her cheek. "Take care, Anna Khorev. I
wish you a long life and happiness with Sasha."

"Alex please ... ! Come with
us!"

The train suddenly whistled and Lebel
appeared and said, "Another minute and I'll be in tears myself. Nicolai's
ready to go. Let's move, my friends, this isn't the Gare du Nord."

The steam engine seemed to burst into
life, gave another shrieking whistle, and Stanski took Anna's hand and pulled
her toward the train.

Lukin helped Lebel up beside the driver,
then got the others on board. A final look passed between them all; Stanski and
Anna, Lukin and Nadia, and then lrena slid the carriage door and bolted it
shut.

Lebel gave a wave from the engine.
"So long, comrades. With luck, maybe we'll all live to crack a bottle of
champagne in Helsinki."

Stanski saw a terrible look of anguish on
Lukin's face as he stared grimly at the carriage, and then the train whistled
again and started to move. Lukin touched the carriage door with his hand as it
pulled away from the platform, as if reluctant to let it go, and then the
engine picked up speed and the carriage slid away.

Stanski said, "You said your
goodbye?"

"As best I could under the
circumstances."

"How did Nadia take it?" Lukin
said grimly, "I don't think she believed me when I told her I'd see her
again. But she knows what she's doing is for the best. And for our child. On my
way to pick up Anna's daughter I called at the Leningrad Station. I showed
Beria's letter to the duty official in charge of the railway lines to Helsinki
and told him to keep the lines clear for Lebel's train.

Under no circumstances was it to be
deliberately stopped or delayed, otherwise he'd face Beria's wrath and a firing
squad. Let's hope he does what I tell him. All we can do is hope by some
miracle they all survive." He looked around, agony in his face. "A
terrible world we live in, brother, but there you have it. And Anna? Something
passed between you and her, didn't it?"

Stanski shrugged. "Another time,
another place, and under different circumstances, who knows what might have
come of it? But too late now."

He paused, then there was a hint of
remorse in his voice. "But it's still not too late for you to change your
mind."

Lukin shook his head. "This is for
Katya. For our parents. For us.

Stanski touched his arm. "We'd
better go. There isn't much time.

It was still snowing as Lukin pulled up
across the street from the side entrance to KGB Headquarters.

As he switched off the engine he turned
to Stanski and said, "Give me fifteen minutes. If I haven't showed up by
then get away from here as fast as you can. Ditch the car and go to the nearest
Metro. After that I'm afraid you'll have to make your own way to Kuntsevo, as
you planned."

Stanski nodded toward the KGB building.
"You'll be taking a risk going in there. Is it really necessary?"

"I need to know if Pasha's safe. I
want him to leave Moscow, otherwise after everything we've done is discovered
he'll be guilty by association and doubtless he'll be shot. There's a train
leaving for the Urals in under two hours and I want him on it with a false set
of papers. They'll never find him among his own people."

Lukin glanced over at the building. The
double oak doors were open, and another glass door led to a hallway beyond. The
lights were on and the uniformed guard on duty sat behind a desk in the hall.

"Besides, you're going to need a KGB
uniform for what we're planning to do. There's also an important phone call to
make, remember?"

Stanski nodded. "Good luck."

Lukin climbed out of the car, crossed the
street and went in through the side doors. Stanski watched the guard check his
papers before Lukin stepped into an elevator in the hall and was gone.

As Stanski sat in the car he reached
anxiously for a cigarette and lit one, then glanced over at the dead body lying
on the backseat.

Jake Massey's lifeless eyes stared back
at him.

The fourth floor was empty and the office
was in darkness.

Lukin stepped into the room and closed
the door. He flicked on the light switch. The room flooded with light and he
heard the voice at once and turned.

"Welcome back, Lukin. So kind of you
to join us."

Romulka stood by the window, a Tokarev in
his hand. Two brutal-faced plain-clothes KGB men stood in front of Pasha's
desk. They held rubber truncheons. Pasha was tied down in a chair with leather
straps binding his arms and legs, his face bloated and bloodied almost beyond
recognition. One of the men had his hand over his mouth and as he released it
Pasha gurgled with pain and his swollen eyes rolled in their sockets.

Lukin's heart sank. "What's the
meaning of this?"

Romulka stepped forward. "Don't fuck
with me, Lukin, it's far too late for that. Remove your pistol and place it on
the desk. Nice and easy. Or I'll be tempted to take your head off before
Comrade Beria has the pleasure of dealing with you."

Lukin removed his Tokarev and placed it
on the desk.

Romulka crooked a finger. "Come
closer, away from the door."

As Lukin stepped forward, Romulka slammed
his fist into his jaw. Lukin fell back against the wall but Romulka moved in smartly
and jerked his knee savagely into Lukin's groin.

As he slid to the floor, Romulka stood
over him, his hands on his hips.

" I can't understand it, Lukin. I
credited you with some brains. Did you really expect to get away with what you
did tonight? Preventing me from catching the American? Releasing the woman and
taking the child from the orphanage? You must think I'm a fool."

A trickle of blood ran down Lukin's chin.
"No, just a callous, brutal bastard."

Romulka lashed out with his boot and it
smashed into Lukin's thigh.

"Get up, traitor!"

When Lukin didn't move, Romulka yanked
him savagely by the hair and hauled him into a chair. He stared into his face.
"You know what I don't understand, Lukin? Motive. But there must be an
explanation. There always is. And you're going to give it to me."

He replaced the pistol in his holster and
the riding crop appeared. Without warning it swished through the air and struck
Lukin a stinging blow across the face, As he jerked back in pain, Romulka
grabbed him by the hair again.

"A small debt repaid. But nothing to
the debt you're about to be repaid by Beria. Interesting to know that your wife
isn't at home, Lukin. I had my men stop at your apartment half an hour ago. No
doubt you thought she'd be safer elsewhere. But don't you worry, we'll find
her. And you know what I'll do to that bitch wife of yours when we throw her in
a cell? Screw her until she can't walk." He leered. "Of course,
cooperate and you may find me a little more lenient. What have you been playing
at, Lukin?"

"Go to hell," Lukin spluttered.

The muscles tightened in Romulka's face.
"You had your little yellow friend here tie us up nicely until you got
away, didn't you?

Unfortunately, he hasn't been much help
either. But then perhaps we haven't tried hard enough to loosen his ton
ue." He nodded to the two men standing over Pasha.

Show Lukin what he and his bitch wife can
expect in the cellars."

One of the men grinned and slapped the
rubber truncheon in his hand. It swished through the air and struck Pasha
savagely across the face. The Mongolian screamed in agony as again and again
the rubber struck, his head tossing from side to side with the force, until his
face was a bloodied pulp.

Lukin screamed, "No!" The
beating went on until finally Romulka said, "Enough."

He put the barrel of Lukin's pistol hard
against Pasha's temple.

"Something else I discovered. This
yellow bastard was seen sniffing around the records office. That's off limits
without a permit." He grinned. "A man could get himself killed for
sticking his nose where he shouldn't. I wonder what he was up to? One last
chance, Lukin. Either you talk, or I blow this yellow bastard's brains out here
and now."

Pasha seemed barely conscious, his eyes
unable to focus, a froth of blood on his mouth. Then suddenly a gurgling sound
came from his throat and with a burst of rage he came to life.

"Tell him nothing, Yuri ..."
His bloodied face stared up at Romulka, his voice a hoarse whisper. "You
... go ... fuck yourself ..."

Romulka's face erupted in rage and the
Tokarev came up so fast Lukin could barely react. The weapon pressed into
Pasha's temple, the hammer clicked, and the gun exploded.

Pasha's head snapped sideways with the
force, his body suddenly limp like a rag doll's, blood spattering the walls as
the bullet tore into his skull.

Lukin roared, "NO!"

As he tried to struggle from the chair
the two men held him down.

Romulka turned to him and the gun came up
hard and struck him below the jaw, sent him reeling back, then Romulka pressed
the barrel painfully hard into his forehead. "Now it's your turn, Lukin.
You're going to talk if it's the last thing you do." He put the pistol
down and picked up the riding crop and said to the men, "On the desk with
him. Pull down his trousers.

He produced what looked like a pair of
pliers from his pocket and said to Lukin, "A little implement even the
Frenchman couldn't resist. Only in your case, I assure you you'll never walk
again. And I can't tell you how much I'm going to enjoy this."

As the two men dragged Lukin onto the
desk, a voice said, "I really wouldn't do that."

Romulka and the men turned at once.
Stanski stood in the open doorway, the silenced Nagant in his hand.

It happened quickly. One of Romulka's men
went to reach for his pistol and Stanski shot him in the eye. As the man reeled
back a second shot hit him in the neck, shattering his windpipe, cutting off
the scream in his throat.

As the man spun, the second man lunged
forward and Stanski fired twice, hitting him in the throat and chest.

Stanski was already reacting as Romulka
started to reach for his weapon, but Lukin shouted, "NO! He's mine."

He lunged just as Romulka grabbed for the
gun, pushed him back against the wall. His arm came up and the metal claw dug
hard into Romulka's chest. The man's eyes opened wide in horror as Lukin's hand
went over his mouth to stifle the scream.

Lukin stared into his face. "Have a
nice time in hell, you bastard."

He withdrew the claw and stepped back as
Romulka slid down, a fountain of blood gushing from the gaping wound in his
chest.

Lukin stared at Stanski in disbelief.
"How the hell did you get in here?"

"As soon as you stepped into the
elevator the guard on the desk couldn't wait to reach for the phone. So I
decided to keep you company."

"You took a risk."

"Lucky for you the building's almost
empty at this time of night."

"Thanks, Mischa."

Stanski nodded over at Pasha's body.
"But too late to help your friend."

Lukin stared at the corpse. For several
moments he didn't speak, then he turned back, grief etched on his face,
"He was a good man. A good man wearing a bad uniform."

It took several moments for- him to
compose himself. "What happened to the guard?"

"Dead in one@of the offices across
the hall. Did you make the call?"

"There wasn't time."

"Then make it now."

Lukin crossed to the desk as Stanski went
to stand by the door, leaving it open a crack, the Na gant raised and ready.

It took Lukin less than a minute to make
the call, and when he replaced the receiver there was sweat on his face. He
looked at Stanski and said, "It's done."