Wind in the Hands (17 page)

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Authors: Rami Yudovin

BOOK: Wind in the Hands
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“The Seer is not an enemy, he is just a man.”

Chapter 23. Interrogation

The accident near the café was gathering like a snowball, and twenty minutes later, the story reached the security service. But only after some details were clarified, and the participants’ appearance was described, the case was believed to be something extraordinary. A brigade of field agents was sent, a police checkpoint was arranged on the way towards the Silencers’ desert, and the Chief himself showed his willingness to interrogate the detained on his own.

He got down to a special room for interrogating. Special lighting was hiding the interrogator’s face, while the suspected person, on the contrary, was lit excellent to watch the prisoner’s facial expression.

Experienced interrogators can see through the trick, that is why hard core criminals prefer to keep silence. The interrogator himself controls the recording. Sometimes, through torments, it is interrupted, it must be said though that torturers refer to their job more elliptically: ‘special means’, or ‘special measures’. A prisoner is exposed to tortures only in cases of emergency, when it is necessary to fish for information about terrorist attacks being prepared. If there is no hurry, the prisoner just is not allowed to sleep, and on the fifth day, the majority of the arrested persons agree to cooperate with police. However, pursued by hallucinations, they can hardly tell reality from dreams, which make interrogation more complicated.

In the center of the room, in the chair, the Bumblebee was sitting, tied by the leg. He took two doses of strong sedative drugs, but even that did not sleek him ruffled piece of mind.

The Chief nodded towards him, looked at the gloomy investigator and said in a chummy manner:

“Come on, Bumblebee, why droop head? That was ordinary hypnosis. Didn’t you hear of such things?”

The criminal shifted his lost glance onto him and whispered:

“What the fuck hypnosis, boss! God visited us, the sinner.”

The director gave a sigh: it makes no sense to talk with a madman. The Bumblebee does not pretend, enough to look into his eyes to see this.

“Have you junked up? You met with a hypnotizer. Not a big deal, have a rest for a couple of hours with us, and then we’ll go on.”

The next prisoner was much more tranquil.

“Tell! I have no time to listen to lies. Tell nothing but the truth,” the Chief ordered.

“Well,” the criminal began, “we were waiting for them…”

“For whom?”

“I don’t know. I was told: stay near the Bumblebee when the one starts talking.”

“What talking? What was in question?”

“I don’t know. I was told to stay. I was staying.”

“What next?”

“Then that… whatsename… yeah… the Stranger… began preaching, the Bumblebee and I were touched and moved to tears.”

“The Bumblebee is still crying,” the Chief interrupted.

“To cry befits a right man,” the criminal mentored.

“What was next?”

“That’s all. The preacher’s gone; the brother Bumblebee couldn’t get off the ground, was standing and crying. I stayed with him until your people came and took us,” he finished his short narration, shifting his glance. That man could control his feelings despite being suppressed and frightened.

The Chief was listening to his unpretentious narration with undisguised contempt:

“That’s it. Take an hour to write down all details. I don’t want you to describe your dirty deeds. I don’t care about it. You will put down everything you know about this story. Otherwise, you will leave the house heels foremost with severe heart attack, or suicide. I’ll consult friends to decide on how to kill you best of all. Do you believe me?”

The criminal nodded grinding his teeth. This is not the police: nobody will look for the reason for his early death.

Talking to witnesses has clarified the situation more or less: the Stranger and the Soldier were confronted by the Bumblebee’s gang-band for some young woman. The Stranger tried to ransom her offering a precious stone. The gangsters took the stone but stood him up. Then, somewhat baffling thing happened. The Stranger accused the Bumblebee of crimes threatening with terrible scourge. The word struck down the band, however surprising it might seem. Having examined the case, the Chief of the Service understood, why it was the Stranger, not the Soldier, that came under the Seer’s notice.

Chapter 24. The Bird

Despite the delight raging in his soul, the Soldier did not forget to listen out for his inner indicator: anxiety replaced slight strain, his palms sweating. In the rear-view mirror was the Stranger’s austere face.

“Stop here, we mustn’t keep driving. We have an ambush ahead of us, and a trap at the back…” the Soldier nodded towards the road.

“Let’s leave the car over here and cross the field, there are hills, we can wait out and move on to the Silencers’ desert,” the Stranger suggested.

“We mustn’t. They will catch us in a shake, we have no time to cross the field. But what if they are ordered to shoot to kill? Would you blow them down that far?”

“This doesn’t work like that,” the Stranger shook his head. “We should go, and then it’s all in God’s hands.”

“I see. Get out of the car!” the Soldier gasped. The Stranger understood his friend’s intention, smiled guiltily, and shook his head again. The Soldier put money in his pocket, gave a wink, turned the car round, and rushed backward.

“Let’s go,” the Stranger took the girl along. In a short while, he stopped and strained ears:

“We have to hide ourselves.” He dug a trench quickly, and erected a small hill. The fugitives flattened themselves against the ground. “Now they’ll pass by,” whispered the Stranger.

The girl was silent, she felt shivery. Soon, they heard a car roaring. The off-roader drove to the field, two young men got out to examine the terrain thoroughly.

“Nobody is here, nobody is here, nobody…” the Stranger harped on. He repeated those words as an incantation. The Agents stood looking around for a minute, then got into the car. It jerked away raising wet clouds.

“I feel sick,” the girls whispered. “Help me.”

“Don’t worry. Now, you’ll feel easier.”

The Stranger closed his eyes, felt the Wind almost at once, and not only on his head, but also in the palms. He laid his palms onto the girl’s eyes and rolled, “Get purged!” Then he put one hand to the back of her head, another hand to her heart, and heard ‘Free!’ in himself. The girl was in a slight faint. The Stranger was carefully wetting her face with water. She opened her eyes.

“Nice! I feel light and free, like a bird, I can fly…”

“I’ll call you the Bird. Nice name.”

They were lying on the ground looking into the eternal sky so difficult to make sense of.

Chapter 25.Cuffs

Hearing the order to stop, the Soldier picked up the speed by giving full throttle. “Above all is to take them away from the field. For myself, I’ll come through. Not a big deal, I’ve worked with worse.” In ten minutes of the rush, he saw the road blocked, yet he remained satisfied: the Stranger is likely to have already been at the green hills.

He got out of the car calmly, sneering at the guns facing him.

“Hi, colleagues. Who dares to chain me?” he asked, stretching his shoulders, wrists and neck. “By the way, what’s the reason for the detention?”

“Car theft,” one of the agents answered with a fixed smile.

“That’s right, your brain is good-for-nothing but dealing with car theft,” the Soldier was teasing them on purpose, to keep on the safe side, for security, to fill in time. Besides, he wanted to take out his rage onto the people who drove him apart from the Stranger and miracles he had looked forward to see.

“We need only Stranger,” said the man who apparently was a leader of the group. “Give answer and you may go even in the theft car.”

The Soldier spat out. The safety lock clicked. The agent slowly raised his hand with a gun.

“Cheap bluff,” the Soldier said quietly, without a trace of fear. “I’ll speak to your boss only. The operation we are conducting now is beyond your scope. I hope, you’re aware of my position in the General staff?”

“You will speak to the boss; you must be in cuffs now, though. But first, we’ll pay you back,” a strong agent gave a nod to a tall guy, and they made a move towards the Soldier.

He was ready to fighting, and even was glad. He stepped aside to be shut by one of the assaulters from the other one. The first enemy jumped up to him trying to kick his hip. To start fight with kicking is mortal amateurship. The Soldier was disappointed. He responded to the blow easily by slightly raising the knee bent, but he decided not to play with the opponent. Just a sudden lunge with a left hand. The man who attacked first was able to spring back, but lost balance. The second hop blow that was sideswiped fell to the lower cheek-bone. The head jerked, and the man fell backwards.

The Soldier rushed to the second fighter’s feet escaping his giant fist. He clenched the enemy under the knee and knocked him down with a lunge. Then, quickly rising up and at the same time pulling sharply the agent towards himself, the Soldier countered him at the head. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the motion of another fighter, rolled over aside, and rushed to his feet, grasped at the ankle, and giving a sharp twist turned out the foot. The agent lost balance, fell down fours. The Soldier jumped up and hit him at the nose with his knee, blood spattered. They did not come up to the Soldier any more. Contented with the fight, he stood smiling with a gracious wry smile.

“Guys, I don’t give in,” he took a deep breath repeatedly to recover breathing.

The leader of the group took an electric gun. The Soldier got tensed when he saw the weapon and turned pale shutting lips tight.

“It’s fifty thousand volts. Hold still, I haven’t decided yet whether to apply it or not. I do not want to carry you unconscious. Let’s do it on a good note: put on the cuffs, and let’s go. Nobody will lay a finger on you, you have my word.”

The Soldier looked around, and called to mind the Stranger and his words:

“If your neighbors are armed and numerous… God is the Reality. He is the Protection”. The Soldier made up his mind to appeal to this reality. He looked up into the sky and shouted,

“God of the Stranger, help me! Give me power too! May my enemies fall!”

The security agents looked around, some burst laughing: the joke was apt to relax the atmosphere.

“Stop screwing,” the commander threw the cuffs under his feet.

The Soldier looked at the sky reproachfully, did up the bracelets at his wrists, sat up front and said through his teeth: “Let’s go.”

The agents gave their commander a questioning look: a detained may not sit front, but the commander permitted and took to the wheel himself. The task to recruit the Soldier, or, at least, to pave the way for recruitment failed. He had not ‘defend’ the Soldier from furious agents. The world-old game in good and evil policemen had no effect.

The Soldier was disappointed as well. He called to the God sincerely, but all in waste, he failed to be heard.

“Do not think, do not think of anything,” he tried to impress on himself. “I’m a good brick, they won’t catch the Stranger, and this is above all things now. Keep quiet. I’ll think later. Now, I have to calm down. Everything what’s happening is nothing but a performance, with everybody playing its own part.” He called to mind happy and joyful moments, his safe and proven method for composing and making sound decisions not burden with negative emotions.

“How’s with you, Soldier?” the process of self-composing was interrupted.

“Has been fine till met you. What a bad habit with your people to poke nose into else’s business? What is that to you? I mean the Stranger and me. Are we enemies of the state? Terrorists? What’s wrong with what we have done? Who can forbid us to arrive in the City?”

“Don’t you know?” the agent paused on the word. “The Seer.”

“Who is he?” the Soldier was simmering with anger. “Why does he order else’s destiny? Why do you obey his orders? Does he pay to you? The Seer is your commander now, huh? A sponsor?”

“We are trying to tackle. We also want to see the reason why he has turned to us. You see, Soldier, we sympathize with you, we have the common goal, and we don’t mean harm to the Stranger. But if we don’t help the Seer, what will he do next?”

“You mean he would turn to somebody else?” the Soldier turned sulky.

“Sure. The Seer can hire anybody: he has the means. They can do such hunting; there’ll be hell to pay. In the City, our service is action-constrained. But the hired guns feel at home. The Stranger is in danger.”

“You’re the only ones to hunt us for now. The Stranger can stick up for himself,” the Soldier said unflinchingly.

“We’ve already got it. He has a good command of hypnosis. But can he send into a trance, say, a sniper? Can he deal with professional mercenaries? Sorry, but they are not the criminal drug users to be sent into a trance by any hypnotist, for they already have their brain freeze. Our service has collected sufficient data on people with psychic powers. There are few who know anything about them, even in our service, only the select have access to the information. There is a special department established to study people like the Stranger. And you know what our experience shows: they get sick and die like ordinary mortals, if not more frequently: ‘he knew too much, so, the God took him too early’. They have to be protected against hostile special services, criminals, or religious fanatics. Do you remember the story from sacred books about the prophet by the name of the Wonderworker who used to retrieve a king from certain death by warning him about ambushes and traps? Enemies suggested leakage of information, but later, they arrive at the conclusion that it was the Wonderworker that saved the king, so they made up mind to kill the prophet. Don’t you think something has changed now? They are always hunted for. If you do want to help your friend, let’s do it together.”

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