Текст книги "Snow Wolf"

Автор книги: Glenn Meade

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For a second she hesitated, as if to be certain that Lukin and his wife were safe, then she turned and ran. Stanski started to follow her, moving backward, the gun still trained on Lukin, until finally he turned and trotted toward the convent walls.

When Stanski was twenty meters away, Lukin pushed himself up from the snow and grabbed Nadia.

"Get in the car!"

He saw the naked fear on his wife's face as he pushed her into the BMW.

"Yuri-please-what's going on-?"

"Start the car. Drive to the end of the street and wait there. Drive carefully, the front tires are punctured. But get the hell out of here fast. Do it, Nadia, no questions!"

He slammed the car door and already he was reaching under the left front fender, He worked feverishly , fumbling until he found the knotted cord and tugged. He felt the Tokarev revolver slip free as the knot released. He placed the weapon on the hood and felt under the fender again, tugged at the second cord, and the bigbarreled Negev flare gun plopped into the snow.

He worked like a man possessed, sweat dripping down his face. He put the Tokarev under his arm and grabbed the flare gun. When he looked back through the windshield he saw Nadia's face stare at him in horror as she saw the weapons.

"Go! Nadia, get the hell out of here!"

For a moment she seemed to hesitate, then he banged on the hood with the butt of the Negev and roared at her.

"Quickly, woman! Go!"

The BMW exploded into life.

The car started to move, slowly at first until the punctured tires gripped the snow, then it shot forward.

As the BMW roared away, Lukin looked back at the convent. He could still see Stanski's figure moving toward the river in the shadows of the wall, sixty meters away.

For a moment Stanski appeared to turn, hearing the roar of the BMW as it raced away. Lukin dropped the Tokarev in the snow, cocked the Negev flare gun, raised it above his head and squeezed the trigger.

A deafening crack erupted as a burst of brilliant orange light exploded above in the darkness and the flare turned night into day.

In the glare of light Lukin saw Stanski halt, his figure illuminated. Already he was turning, reacting.

At the same moment a black Emka came roaring out of nowhere, its engine screaming like some wild animal. As the car skidded to a halt in front of Lukin, Pasha burst out of the driver's door clutching a machine-pistol.

Lukin dropped the flare gun and grabbed the Tokarev. In one swift movement he knelt, rested his elbow on his knee and cocked and aimed the revolver. He caught Stanski clearly in his sights and squeezed the trigger. The shot ' missed and ricocheted off the convent wall. As he aimed again, suddenly Pasha opened up with the machinepistol, flame leaping from the barrel as lead exploded in puffs of snow in front of Stanski, shots ringing around the convent walls. What happened next Lukin could hardly believe.

Stanski calmly knelt, aimed and fired twice.

The first shot kicked up snow but the second hit Pasha and he screamed and rolled over.

Before Lukin could aim again, the orange light started to flicker and a tendril of smoke plummeted to the ground. The flare extinguished and light plunged into gloom. Lukin heard an engine splutter to life.

He clambered to his feet, running forward like a man possessed, ignoring Pasha's body lying in the snow, firing the Tokarev blindly into the darkness after Stanski.

When he reached the road by the river he was just in time to hear a car roar away.

Ramenki District, Moscow.

The Skoda pulled up outside the dacha and Stanski, Anna and frena climbed out.

Irena led them inside, and when she had lit the wood stove and oil lamps she went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of vodka and three glasses. She poured them each a drink with trembling hands and swallowed her own quickly.

Her face was white with anger as she stared over at Stanski.

"We all could have been killed tonight. I thought you said there wouldn't be any trouble?"

Stanski put a hand on her shoulder. "Take it easy, Irena. It's all over and you're safe."

"Safe? When I saw the sky light up and heard the shooting I thought I was dead for sure. We're lucky we didn't have half the army on our backs after what happened. And it's hardly over. Look at me, I'm still trembling."

Stanski picked up his glass. "But you're still alive, Anna's free, and no one followed us. All in all, not a bad end to the evening, I'd say."

Irena saw the slight smile on Stanski's face and shook her head in exasperation. "If you're trying to be funny, your humor's wasted-my nerves are too frayed."

She poured another vodka and swallowed it before she said to Anna, "I don't know whom I'd rather face. This lunatic friend of yours or the KGB. The man's as crazy as Rasputin."

She put her glass down and touched Anna's arm. "What about you? are you all right?"

"Yes."

"You don't look it. You look like death. Take a drink, it'll calm your nerves. Me, I'm that shook I'm going to drink until I'm legless. You're going to need a bath and a change of clothes. I've got some in the room at the back. I'll get them and heat some water." When Irena went out, Stanski said to Anna, "Drink. Irena's right, you look as if you need it."

Anna ignored the vodka. "Where are we? Where is this place?"

Stanski told her. He had already explained about Irena, but the atmosphere in the car as they drove to the dacha had been charged and anxious, as if they each expected a roadblock or a police siren at any moment, and they had hardly spoken. Now Stanski said, "There's something wrong, isn't there?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Then why is it I get the feeling something about you is different? I would have thought getting you out of the Lubyanka was cause for a celebration. Instead, you look like someone's just spoiled your evening."

As she stood there, Stanski saw a lifeless look in her eyes and said, "Tell me what's wrong."

"Lukin told me you came to Moscow to kill Stalin. Is that true?"

Stanski didn't reply.

For several moments she stood there, looking at him, and then she said, "if that's true, you're insane."

"Wrong man. It's Stalin who's insane. And yes, I came here to kill him."

"You could never do it. It's impossible. You'd simply be wasting your own life."

"Best let me be the judge of that."

Anna was going to continue, then hesitated. Stanski said, "There's something else, isn't there'? Did Lukin hurt you? Is that it?"

"He didn't lay a finger on me."

"You know you almost got us killed tonight? You can't trust Lukin. How could you be such a fool? You should have let me shoot him when I had the chance."

"He didn't deserve to die like that."

He looked at her and laughed harshly. "I can't believe you're saying that. The man tries to kill us and you're defending him."

"Lukin took me to see Sasha."

He saw the pain in her face and suddenly put down his glass. "Tell me."

She told him everything that had happened since he had lost her in the woods.

When she had finished, Stanski said, "So that's why you were with him in the car? Listen to me, Anna, there's only one reason Lukin Would have allowed you to see Your daughter, and that's to make you talk."

"There was nothing I could tell him to help him find you. I think Lukin knew that all along, even when he took me to meet Sasha. What he did tonight any man in his position who loved his wife would have done ... Lukin thinks she'll be punished too for what you did. He had to try and stop you."

"Listen to me, Anna. Lukin's no different from any of those other KGB bastards. He tried it on with you with a sob story and hoped you'd fall for it and you did. You should have let me put a bullet in him when I had the chance." He shook his head. "He was playing games with you, Anna. Playing games to get you to trust him. And even if he meant what he said about saving you from a firing squad, what sort of a life would it have been for your daughter, imprisoned in a camp?"

He saw her struggle to hold back her tears. His hand reached out and touched her face.

"Anna, I'm sorry. If there was something I could do to get Sasha back I would, but it's too late for that and too dangerous, and even if I knew where she was you can be sure after tonight Lukin will have her closely guarded. I can't take the risk of trying to rescue her, it would only jeopardize what I came here to do. And it's come too far to let that happen."

She turned away, a flood of grief on her face. Stanski went to touch her again but she pushed him away, and he saw the tears at the edges of her eyes.

"I can't give up now, Anna, not when I'm so close. And if Lukin thinks I'm finished he's got a surprise in store."

Anna looked back at him. "You're being reckless. You know what you intend is impossible. Stop before it's too late."

He smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. "Definitely too late for that, Anna. Irena will drive you to a railway station outside Moscow before it gets light. There's a Goods train leaving for the Finnish border and you'll both be on it. A man named Lebel will look after you. Irena will tell you everything when the time comes. I'm truly sorry about Sashia."

He looked at her face and she knew he meant it. He turned toward the kitchen door. "Where are you going?"

"To get some air. Maybe you need to be alone."." As he opened the door, Anna said, "You know you're dead if you stay in Moscow?"

Stanski pulled up his collar. "Like they say, the seeds of what we'll do are in all of us. Maybe that's my fate. I mean to finish what I started. And no one's going to stop me now. No one. Least of all Lukin."

And then he turned and was gone out of the door.

The man had driven halfway down the unlit street in the van and pulled in under a tree. It was deserted and the dachas on either side were in shadow. He removed the binoculars from under the passenger seat and stepped out into the snow.

It took him almost ten minutes to find the address in the darkness. Five minutes later he had found his way around to the back of the property and came out in a clump of trees at the rear of the dacha. He saw the yellow glow of an oil lamp burning behind the downstairs CURTAINED window and he smiled to himself.

He settled down in the freezing woods. The binoculars were pretty useless without any light, and he trained his eyes on the dacha, scanning the curtained windows for– any sign of movement.

As he sat there he suddenly saw the back door open. In the flood of light that !filled the doorway a man stepped out onto the patio and closed the door after him.

He lifted the binoculars. It was too dark to see the man's face clearly and he swore to himself. Then a light flared in the blackness near a woodshed as the mien lit a cigarette, and he locked onto the figure and saw the face clearly for an instant and froze.

The man put down his binoculars and picked his way back through the woods to the van. It was five minutes later when he drove into the nearest town and found a public telephone.

He went to stand under the rusting metal canopy and inserted a coin and dialed the number. It took @,., a long time before the phone was lifted at the other end. "Boris?"

"Da. "It's Sergei. I think I've found them."

Moscow.

Nadia came out of the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and two gllasses. Her hands were trembling.

Lukin said, "You really think you ought to drink?"

"I need it. So do you."

"Perhaps I should call you a doctor?"

She shook her head. "One patient is enough for tonight. Sit down, Yuri."

There was a firmness in her voice Lukin hadn't heard before, He sat on the couch and she poured two glasses and came to join him.

As Lukin sat there, he felt numb inside. What had happened was a nightmare. They had left Pasha at the office of a Mongol doctor he knew. A bullet had chipped his shoulder bone but the wound wasn't life-threatening. The doctor had given him a shot of morphine and cleaned the wound, then Pasha had called Lukin aside.

"Go home, Yuri. I'll call you when I get out of here. Look after Nadia. She looks pretty upset."

"You're sure you'll be all right?"

Pasha lifted his arm and grimaced in pain. "I'll just have to learn to drink with my left." Lukin knew the humor was forced.

He consulted the doctor.

"He's lost some blood," the doctor said, "but I know this lunatic. He'd live through anything. What about you and your wife? You both look shaken."

Lukin didn't want to complicate things further. The less the doctor knew the better. But he had him examine Nadia in the next room.

When the doctor came back he said, "Your wife's pretty distressed. Because she's pregnant, I've given her some mild sedatives to help her relax. Make sure she takes them. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Lukin shook his head. "She wasn't hurt?"

"There's no sign of any physical injury. She just needs to rest. What about you?"

"Just make sure Pasha's taken care of. And if anyone asks, you were told his wound was an accident."

Now Lukin put his head in his hand as he sat on the couch. He felt drained, exhaustion and stress foggin– his brain.

"Drink this."

He looked up. Nadia handed him the glass of vodka.

When he had swallowed @" a mouthful, she sat beside him. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me why that man kidnapped me." She looked at him. "What happened to your hand?"

Lukin heard the anger in her voice as she stared at him..

"You'd better tell me everything, Yuri. Because if you don't I'm packing my things and leaving. My life's been put in danger. And the life of our child."

"Nadia , .." He went to touch her but she pushed him away.

He understood. At first, her reaction was fear and shock, now anger, because he had put their lives in danger.

He shook his head helplessly. "Nadia ... regulations don't permit me ..

"I mean it, Yuri. After tonight you owe it to me to tell me everything. And to hell with your regulations. What if that madman hadn't released me when he did?"

"I would have tried to follow him."

"That was still putting my life in danger."

"Nadia, there was no other way ..

"Tell me the whole truth. or so help me, Yuri, as much as I love you, I'm leaving you. Who was the man?"

Lukin saw the look on her face and knew she meant it. He put his glass down very slowly, took a deep breath and let it out.

"An American assassin. His name's Alex Stanski. He's also known as the Wolf. He's in Moscow to kill Joseph Stalin."

Nadia turned white. She put down her glass, disbelief on her face.

Lukin told her everything. When he had finished, Nadia stood up and said, "Oh my God."

"After tonight the situation looks hopeless. When Beria learns I've released the woman he'll have me arrested and shot. It won't matter that I did it because your life was in danger. To Beria that's no excuse. Duty comes first. And he'll see you as an accomplice who should be punished." He saw the look of anguish on his wife's face and said, "Nadia, you wanted the truth and I've told you."

"I ... I don't believe this is happening."

He felt the perspiration run down his shirt. "Listen to me Nadia. No matter what way you look at it I'm dead and you're in danger. It's not going to take long before Beria learns the truth. Tomorrow at the latest I want you to leave Moscow. Go somewhere you stand a chance of not being found. Somewhere far away. The Urals. The Caucasus. I'll arrange false papers. You take every ruble we have. It's your only hope. If you stay, you'll be shot or sent to a camp. This way at least you stand a chance."

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"You have to, if only for our child's sake."

"And what will you do?"

"I stay in Moscow. If we leave together there wouldn't be any mercy shown. But if I stay there's a chance Beria won't trouble himself about you."

Nadia seemed to crack then, and Lukin saw the flood of tears before her arms went around his neck and he pulled her close.

"No tears, Nadia. Please ... "I won't go without you,"

"Then think of our child."

She pulled away from him, sobbing. Lukin stood. Seeing her like this was killing him.

"Tell me what happened this morning. What did Stanski do to you?"

Nadia wiped her eyes. "He came to the door and forced himself in. He put something over my mouth and I blacked out. When I came to he had a gun to my head. He said he'd kill us both if I didn't do as he said. I thought he was some escaped madman."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Tell me what happened after he took you outside." She told him and Lukin said, "When Stanski took you to the car, was he alone?"

"No, there was someone waiting in the driver's seat."

"Who?"

"I couldn't see. I was still drowsy. As soon as I got in the backseat he blindfolded me. The next thing I knew I was in a room somewhere. That's all I remember."

"Do you remember what type of car?"

"I ... I'm not sure."

"Think, Nadia. What type? What color?"

"Everything happened so fast. I don't remember what type."

"Do you remember the color?"

"Gray, maybe. Or green. I can't be certain."

"What about the license plates'? You didn't see the license plates?"

"No."

Lukin sighed. "Do you remember anything about the driver?"

"He had his back to me."

"Think, Nadia. Please."

"When the smell of the drug went away I could smell something else ..

"What?"

"A clean smell. Like perfume ... but I'm not sure."

"Could the driver have been a woman?"

Nadia shook her head. "I don't know. I suppose, but I really don't know. Can we stop this, please, Yuri ..

Lukin saw the strain and tension on her face. She was close to breaking point but he needed some clue. Something that might help him.

"Tell me about the room you were kept in."

"I told you, I was blindfolded."

He put his hand to his wife's face and covered her eyes. She started to move away but he held her still. "Nadia, this is important. Imagine you're in that room again. Imagine you're blindfolded. What smells were there? What sounds?"

"There was no ... sound of traffic. I heard birds outside but it was very quiet and still. It seemed like somewhere in the country, but it was Moscow, I'm sure of it."

"Why are you sure?"

, "When I was taken to the convent I was still blindfolded but I couldn't have been in the car for more than half an hour. But where we drove from ... I don't know ... it could have been anywhere."

"Think. What else do you remember?"

Nadia went to push his hand away but he kept it there.

"Yuri, please ... I can't take any more, please ..

Lukin removed his hand. Nadia was crying, tears streaming down her face. He pulled her close and held her tightly.

"It's all right, my love. It's all right. Come into the bedroom. Try and sleep."

She wiped her face and pushed away from him. "How can I sleep after what you've told me?"

"Because you need to. Take one of the pills the doctor gave you." He stood up and saw the alarm on her face.

"Where are you going?"

"Nadia, I have to try to find Stanski. He won't come back here, he wouldn't risk it. But if it makes you feel better I'll have one of the men come over and stay. But tell him nothing and lock the doors while I'm away."

He picked up the brown bottle. "This is what Stanski used to put you asleep erlier. It's a controlled substance, an anesthetic and solvent. And that means it can only be bought through legal channels. I need to check if any of the names on the lists of dissidents are chemists or doctors, or work in hospitals where they could have access to such supplies, or even if any has been reported stolen. It's not much to go on, but it's all I can think of. If Pasha calls, tell him where I've gone. I'll have one of the men stop by as soon as I get to my office."

"Yuri, please be careful." He kissed her forehead. "Of course. Now try and rest."

Lukin, watched as she crossed to the bedroom door. She looked back at him, a frightened look that almost broke his heart, and then she went into the bedroom.

He put his hand to his forehead and sat there, in turmoil. Everything had gone wrong. The ether was a thin strand, but he had to give Nadia some hope. He had to find Stanski and find him fast before Beria discovered that the woman was missing. He found it difficult to concentrate as he tried to rack his brain for clues.

Nadia's information hadn't been much. Maybe a house on the outskirts of Moscow. A quiet place in the country with no traffic. A dacha, perhaps. Maybe a woman involved. It was nothing much to go on. Nothing.

He needed solid clues. He looked down at the ether bottle. Right now it was all he had.

It was almost ten that evening when the Tupolev 4 military transporter arriving from Vienna touched down on the snowy runway at Moscow's Viiukovo airfield.

Among the military-only passengers that evening was a bulky man in his early forties with cropped hair. He wore an air force maan's uniform an had hardly spoken throughout the bumpy four-hour flight, pretending to sleep in his seat at the rear of the aircraft, while the other military passengers drank and played cards or wandered up and down the aisles to ease the boredom.

Now, as he carried his duffel bag down the metal steps, an imposing black Zil drew up alongside the Tupolev and a young lieutenant in air force uniform introduced himself and led the major to the waiting car.

It took almost ten minutes to exit the airport, the papers the lieutenant produced being checked thoroughly at the special gate reserved for military traffic. But the documents were all in order and the Zil was waved through.

Half an hour later the car pulled up on a dark country road on the outskirts of Moscow. The young officer looked around and smiled.

"This is where I was told to drop you, sir."

The man looked Out of the window at the falling snow and said, "You're certain this is the place?"

"Certain, Comrade Major."

Massey climbed out silently, dragging his bag after him. The lieutenant watched him disappear into the darkness as the snow fell lightly beyond the windshield.

Lukin pulled up opposite the entrance to the small park near the Kiev Metro station. As he stepped out of the car, he noticed that the lights were on in the park. He saw a dozen or more tough-looking men huddled beyond the bare trees twenty meters away. Most of them had the dark look of the south: Uzbekistans, Turkestaiis, Georgians, gypsies from the Crimea with ugly, elaborate tattoos on their hands and arms. Hardened petty criminals who ran the Moscow black markets and risked five years in Siberia for additional trading.

He saw the rusting green Emka parked across the street, but there was no sign of Rizov.

He noticed that some of the men under the trees were closing suitcases and canvas bags, stashing them onto the backs of bicycles or carrying them to the trunks of rusted cars award vans outside the park. Another ten minutes and the place would be deserted.

Through the bare trees Lukin saw a trader with a heavy black mustache. A barrel-chested fat man with one led shorter than the other, wearing loose, baggy clothes and a bushy beard. Oleg Rizov. Rizov the Bear.

He was arguing with a woman carrying a shopping bag. The woman held up a dented can of tinned peaches, trying to bargain. Rizov kept smiling a gold-toothed smile and shaking [ his head from side to side. Finally the exasperated woman threw the can into the bushes in disgust and uttered a mouthful expletives before turning on her heel. The other men standing under the trees laughed and Rizov growled at them, then limp( over and retrieved the can of peaches and swore after the woman.

Lukin watched as moments later Rizov picked up two worn suitcases and came out through the park gates to rusty Emka, waddling like a man with legs of rubber. Rizov locke the cases in the trunk, then went around to the front. He removed two windshield wipers from inside his coat and fit them to the wiper arms, then climbed into the Emka.

It started in a puff of blue exhaust smoke and moved ol from the curb. Lukin pulled out after it.

The apartment block off the southern end of the Lenin Prospect had been built just after the war, but despite its newness it looked shabby. Raw unplastered cinder block and lines of fro zen washing hanging on balconies.

The Emka halted and Lukin saw Rizov climb out, retrieve his two suitcases and remove the wipers again before he locke( the car. He stepped on a line of wooden planks that covered the slushy patches in front of the building before he limped into the apartment block.

Lukin locked the BMW and followed.

He went up to the third floor and knocked on Rizov's door There was a rattle of bolts and locks and Rizov appeared. His face dropped when he saw Lukin.

"Major ... what a surprise ..

Lukin brushed past him.

The room was squalid, untidy and in disarray, but it was a storehouse of luxury. The two suitcases from the car were open, their contents scattered. Jars of Dutch jams and some cans of peaches and red caviar. From hooks in the ceiling hung sides of smoked salmon and bunches of dried salted herrings. On the table Lukin saw half a dozen bottles of Ukrainian champagne and a couple of kilo jars of pickled sturgeon's roe.

"About to give a party, Oleg? Or did I disturb your supper?"

Rizov closed the door and nervously licked his lips. "What can I say, Major?"

"Caught red-handed would do nicely. For this little lot alone you could get five years." Lukin rummaged through one of the suitcases and plucked out two bright red camisoles.

"Yours?"

"I'm holding on to them for a friend."

"The French Ambassador's wife, no doubt?"

Rizov smiled nervously. "Consider them a gift."

Lukin let the garments fall. "Sit down, Rizov."

Rizov pushed some dirty clothes off the bed and sat. "Perhaps if the major told me to what I owe the pleasure of his visit? Can I get the major a drink?"

"You know, it never ceases to amaze me, Rizov."

"What does?"

"We must have the tightest borders and ports in the world and yet people like you still manage to smuggle in just about anything."

Rizov shrugged amiably. "The major knows if I can provide a service for the good citizens of Moscow, it makes me feel good. I consider it social work, not crime."

"I'm sure a judge would see it differently. You'd sell your own grandmother for a profit, Rizov. You're a rogue beyond redemption." He removed the brown bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table.

"What's that?"

"Ether. You've heard of ether, Rizov. A chemical liquid used as an anesthetic."

"I know what ether is." Rizov pointed to the bottle. "But what's this got to do with me?"

"Do you know how to get ether in Moscow?"

"No, but I've got a feeling the major will tell me."

"Unless you're a doctor or a hospital administrator or work in certain industries, it's impossible to buy. Its purchase is strictly controlled and monitored."

Rizov shrugged. "You learn something every day. What's it got to do with me?"

"If somebody wanted a small quantity of ether and fast, no doubt your friends on the black market would find a way to oblige for a price?"

Rizov pursed his lips and nodded at the bottle. "Was it bought, on the black market?"

"Perhaps. Or stolen from a hospital or surgery."

Rizov shrugged. "I heard some of the illegal abortion clinics buy it on the black market."

"Among your friends, who'd be daring enough to steal it?"

Rizov shook his head. "Major, really, I know nothing about such things. Food and drink, sure. But stuff for hospitals, forget it. Five years in a camp is one thing. A bullet in the neck for stealing prescribed chemical substances is another." . "Answer the question, Rizov. I'm not in the mood for playing around. This is important. Who'd be daring enough to steal ether?"

Rizov sighed and put a hand to his forehead and thought for a moment, then looked up. "Perhaps the Crimean gypsies. Or the Turkmenistans. They're a bunch of reckless bastards who deal in drugs and stuff. They'd steal the food off a policeman's plate if they thought there was a profit in it."

"Give me names."

Rizov shook his head and laughed. "Major, as Stalin is my judge, I keep away from that lot. They're not only mad, they're dangerous. Even sending them to the camps doesn't frighten them. Like weeds, they'd thrive in fucking shit."

Lukin's hand slapped hard on the table. "Names, Rizov. I want names. They're acquaintances of yours. You work the black market together."

"On the grave of my dead mother I know none of them. And even if I did and ratted they'd have my balls for Worry beads."

Lukin grabbed the little man by his shirt collar. "You're, a lying rogue, Rizov. And your mother's alive and living in Kiev."

"I don't associate with these people, Major. Drugs, stuff like that, it's too risky. Me, I stick to food and clothes."

Lukin looked about the room. "You like living here?"

Rizov threw an eye quickly over the filthy, tiny flat and said flippantly, "Sure. I love it." He saw the look on Lukin's face and his tone became more respectful. "it could be worse."

"Worse than a log hut in some icy corner of Siberia?"

"It's just as cold here, believe me. The plumbing hardly ever works. Not that I'm complaining, mind, just that in winter your balls feel like lumps of ice."

"Rizov, get it into your thick skull, I'm not playing games here.

"You wouldn't have me sent to Siberia, Major Lukin. You're too kind a man. Besides, what have I done?"

Lukin nodded at the suitcases on the bed. "That stuff's worth five years if I report you. Ten if the prosecutor's in a bad mood. even longer if I recommend it. And believe me, I'll recommend it if you don't cooperate."

Rizov's face drained. "Major-"

"Think about it. An old dog like you doesn't need the hard road. Talk with your black-market friends. Use all your charm and cunning. If anyone bought ether in the last few days I want to know about it."

He saw the puzzled frown on Rizov's face and said, "Someone used it to carry out a serious crime. Don't fail me on this one or I swear I'll have you on a prison train to Archangel by morning."

He let go of the little man and put the empty bottle on the table. "Take this. It may help your Turkmenistan friends remember. Tell them from me that if they don't come up with answers, they'll be keeping you company on the train."