The River of Bones v5 (24 page)

“Simon, I want to know if he’s the only one left, or if there’s more outside.  Give Sasha your Uzi and let’s drop him out a window.  And ask how they found our hideout.”

Simon smiled.  “Heights always help people remember things.”  He handed his Uzi to Sasha, walked over, and shoved the man down the hall.

Jake turned to Sasha.  “Keep the godfather and his friend covered.  I think they’re dead but don’t take any chances, not after what happened a minute ago.”

She stared at the bodies, tears in her eyes.  “I can’t believe he’s dead, but will I ever be free of him?”

Jake shook his head, not wanting to answer, not even knowing how to answer.  Someone else would take his place—that’s how the mob worked, especially in Russia.  The price on her head would just grow even larger.  He walked away, not daring to say a word.  He was falling in love with someone who had been sentenced to death.

Simon and he questioned the Russian, binding his hands and threatening to drop him from the top floor.  The man babbled, pleading to be pulled back inside the window where they had him hanging by his heels.

Simon finally stroked his unshaven face with a hand.  “I can’t imagine he could have made up his story so quickly.  He says they came across the lake from Severobaikalsk.  The godfather had spies scattered everywhere, watching for anything unusual, and our dollars talked louder than words.  Once they reached Davsha, the locals told them where to find us, because a few of them remembered this place.”

Jake picked up his Winchester and shoved the Glock inside his belt.  “Take him downstairs, tell Molly to watch him until we find some place to lock him up, and let’s pick up the guns and take them to the hangar.  We’ll put off leaving until we can clean up this mess.

“And make him dig graves for his friends, then we’ll let him go when we leave.  I wouldn’t want to walk out of here without a gun, and I hope the bears kill him.”

“I’d rather shoot him,” said Simon, “then he can’t come after us ever again.”

“It’s too late for us to think we’ll ever rid ourselves of the
Mafiya
.  They will always be out there, trying to collect on our heads, even though their boss is dead.  Might as well get on with our lives.”

His apocalypse silenced them.  Simon pushed the Russian downstairs at gunpoint, and Jake walked over to the godfather’s body.  Might as well look death in its face.

PART FOUR—THE HUNTERS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WOLVERINE

“Let’s go
down and kill him,” said Yuri.  “I’m sure we can get away.”

“Patience, white man.  My magical powers only work when my intelligence makes good decisions.  The second helicopter will come back soon, and I haven’t made us invisible yet.”

“What are they doing?”  Yuri wondered why Wolverine’s black eyes never blinked when he was stalking his prey.  The old shaman was like a snake.

“Zorkin and his military
friend are hiding soldiers all around this place.  See how they’re using the radio station to talk to them.  They’re watching for someone.”

“Maybe they’re looking for us.  You said that he didn’t think we were dead.”

“Why would they bring a second
helicopter that has guns and rockets just to capture two unarmed men?  They must be afraid of someone who has dangerous weapons as well.  We’ll wait.”  Wolverine sat on the ground, seemingly with little worry about the danger that lay less than a mile away.

Yuri kept peering through the berry bushes, remembering the lessons the shaman had taught him—stay down, break up your outline with leaves, and keep quiet.  He wondered how the shaman had known when to ride south on their reindeer, letting them arrive in time to see two helicopters set down and unload fourteen men and their supplies at Zorkin’s old base camp.

“How did you know when to come?” he asked.  “I still don’t understand.  Is this more of your magic?”

“The reindeer told me.  Didn’t you see them listening last week?  They knew the helicopters were flying here, because they heard them coming.”

“That’s nonsense.  We were camping over five hundred kilometers away.  How could reindeer hear rotor blades at that distance?”

“Tell me how animals know earthquakes are coming.  Even your university at Akademgorodok has studied that phenomenon.  Why won’t you ever believe me when I tell you something?”

“Sometimes it’s better if I don’t trust you.  You often tease me, seeing if I understand the mysteries of this place.”

“So . . . finally your wisdom is showing a little.” said Wolverine.  “Maybe someday you’ll learn my secrets after all.”

“I think you simply guessed the logical time that Zorkin would come looking for the diamonds again.  He’s a greedy man who won’t rest until he finds them.”

“Oh, so you would you forbid me the powers of logic when I practice my magic?  Be sensible.  I’m a messenger of the spirits, gifted with the ability to see what other men usually miss.  When the reindeer become restless or the songbirds stop singing or the flowers bloom, I wonder why and then decide what might happen next.  Even you,
despite your many doubts, must have known he’d come back.”

“Yes, but not so soon, and I also missed seeing any change in the herd.  Next time show me.”  Yuri wondered if there would be a next time.  Both had come on their mission of revenge, but they were badly outnumbered, as well as outgunned.  All they possessed was a single-shot shotgun and a few fine-shot shells they’d borrowed from the Nenets, along with the bow and arrows of the winter before.  They would have to sneak very close, then run for their lives.

“How long must we wait?” he asked.

“Two or three days.  You can stay here tomorrow and watch them while I learn where they’re hiding their men.  But be careful.  Every hill for many kilometers around has someone on top of it.  We must stay invisible.”

Yuri felt himself smiling.  For the first time since he’d met the old man he was being trusted with a dangerous task.  Then he began feeling embarrassed.  Grow up, he thought.  What are you, a little boy?  Why get so worked up over hiding in the berry bushes all day?  But . . . he still felt proud.  The whole summer had been exciting.

They had migrated off the calving grounds to the More Laptewych, the great northern ocean off the mouth of the Lena River, and he’d fallen into a ritual of life he’d never known before.  Warm temperatures, endless daylight, living daily with the half-wild deer that were so vital to the Nenets, bathing in the lakes and rivers, no one ashamed of their nakedness . . . it had been a charmed life only cursed by the bugs, the hungry, stinging mosquitoes, black flies, and gnats that plagued the High Arctic.  The howling winds of the tundra had given the only relief from the biting insects.

He had discovered a land rich in wildlife, spilling over with marshy places, deep lakes, and wild rivers running north, always north to their home in the sea.  Clouds of snow geese and ducks and hunting raptors had filled the sky.  It was one thing to study the environment from the comforts of Akademgorodok, but quite another to see the High Arctic in real life.  Sometimes it had been gruesome, but it had never failed to fascinate him with its divergent life, struggling for survival, raising their babies, despite the predators and weather.  He was starting to understand mankind’s place in the scheme of things, at least from the shaman’s point of view.

One day the old man had said that it was time to leave the Nenets.  They had gone to the clan’s matron (Nenets are governed by women) and asked to borrow two bull reindeer and a rusty old shotgun, promising to free the deer once they’d reached their destination.  The leader of the reindeer people had agreed and wished them well, even asking them to return someday.  Wolverine and he planned to do just that . . . if they stayed alive.

“It looks like Zorkin will keep his new friend and two soldiers with him in camp.” Yuri said.  “How will we overcome them?  It doesn’t even get dark at night yet.”

“My powers will show me the way, but first we must find their weaknesses.  Man is much less difficult to hunt than other animals, but I’m curious why Zorkin is watching the sky rather than the ground.  Why would he look up when he should look down?  Tell me more about your daughter.  Maybe you’ve missed seeing her true spirit.”

Wolverine might have as well punched him in the solar plexus—his breath flew out and he gagged.  No, it couldn’t be true . . .
 
But he knew the shaman was right.  Sasha had mounted an expedition to find him.  She must have been given the camera equipment and found the diamonds after all.

He wished that she’d simply taken the money and run.  Why did she have to be so pigheaded and loyal?  Now, just when he had started thinking she was safe, she was going to fall into Zorkin’s hands.  No one else wanted to find him, other than the cold-blooded killer in the distance.  His daughter must be on her way.

“What can we do?” he asked.  “How could you have guessed that Sasha would come looking for me?  He’ll kill her.”

Wolverine’s face stayed calm, its deep brown winkles looking the same as always.  “There’s no need for you to worry because he doesn’t want to kill her, only capture her.  It’s important that you remember all that I’ve taught you about staying brave.”

He steadied himself as the old man had urged and sat down beside him.  But . . . the problems seemed insurmountable.  What could they do?. . .

“Maybe we can sneak up on their lookouts, kill them, and take their rifles.  They’re carrying Kalashnikovs.  We could be a real force with those automatic rifles.”

“I’ll see what can be done about that later,” said Wolverine, “but the soldiers have field glasses and listening devices, and I can only overcome so much with my magic.  Let’s move off and pray together.  I will need the help of the spirits with this one.”

“What if I give myself up?” asked Yuri.  “Then Zorkin wouldn’t need Sasha.  She doesn’t know the source of the diamonds, anyway.  What good would she be?”

“I won’t let you desecrate my ancestors by surrendering to him.  He’d dig up their graves with a bulldozer and spoil their sanctity forever.  You must keep quiet.”

“Sasha’s worth more than the diamonds.  She’s my only child.”

“White man, be sensible.  If you go to him, he will kill her the moment he sees her.  Why bother letting her live?  He’d no longer need her.”

Leave it to the Evenki to hit him square in the face with logic.  The only hope lay with the old shaman, and the time had come for complete trust.

He looked into the old man’s eyes.  “What prayers should we sing tonight?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE MARCHA RIVER

Simon hammered
the last wooden crosspiece over the room he’d made into a jail and then threw down his hammer.  “There, that should keep him cooped up for a day or two, but I still think it’s wrong to let him live.  We’re just making the world a much more dangerous place.”

Jake sighed.  “I’m sick of killing people, and Molly feels just as bad, now that she’s come to her senses.  Maybe it will work out better if we let him live.  Word will get around it’s best to leave us alone.”

Simon shook his head.  “All we’re doing is giving the
Mafiya
a good description of us, nothing else.  They’ve got connections everywhere, and we won’t be safe for the rest of our lives.  I worked with them once, even before anyone knew what
krihshah
or ‘the roof’ meant.”

Jake eyed his friend but decided not to ask, since they didn’t have time.  They had sent Molly and Sasha to the airport and told them to load the captured Kalashnikovs in the AN-2.  One never knew when a few extra assault rifles might come in handy.

“The women are waiting for us so let’s go.  With any luck we’ll reach the Marcha River tonight and find a place to land, and maybe we’ll keep getting lucky if we keep moving.  I’d like to head back to Alaska before long.”

Simon smiled.  “What a trip we’ve had, and now I don’t even care if we find the diamonds.  This has gotten my blood pumping and I feel twenty years younger.”

They left and walked outdoors.  The thrills, seeing new places, and treasure hunting . . . what more could they ask for?  Both started jogging to the airport, and Molly and Sasha were ready to leave when they got there.  Jake looked at both women.  “Sasha, climb into the right seat of the Antonov.  Molly, make sure you maintain radio silence.  And remember to stay low and use the topography to hide from radar.”

She frowned.  “What if we hit bad weather?”

“I’ll land in the first flat place I see.  The Antonov only needs five hundred feet, now that it’s not so heavy.  Then we’ll wait until it clears.  Is everyone set?”  All three nodded and walked to their airplanes.

Jake climbed into the AN-2, flipped on the master switch, and punched the starter button.  The engine sputtered and blew its oily smoke past the windscreen.  Adding throttle, he taxied to the runway, looked back, and saw Simon and Molly come up behind him.  Swinging onto the runway, he applied full power and felt the old biplane lift off, thundering its way skyward.  Seconds later, he set the power at economy cruise, stretching the fuel to its maximum range, also making it easier for the Super Cubs to keep up.  Glancing at the GPS, he saw the miles ticking off, one by one.  It knew exactly where the Marcha River lay, even if he didn’t.  Thank God again, he told himself, for modern-day avionics.  Otherwise, Siberia would be almost invincible.

Hours passed.  Sasha and he talked on the intercom about the colors of Siberia, the greens and blues highlighted by the snowcapped mountaintops.  The radial engine droned above the vast wilderness.  Then both fell silent when the GPS read less than half the distance.  Now the engine sounded more like a drum roll.

The pines of Buryatia gave way to great stands of larch, the tamarack tree that turned yellow and dropped its needles every fall, like deciduous trees give up their leaves.  Next, the taiga gave way to tundra plains, scattered with stands of black spruce and dwarf willow.  Growing along the lakes and rivers, both trees thinned when the land became hilly.  Only in the High Arctic was there such sublime desolation, earth just like God had made it.