Coercion (35 page)

The door behind him slammed open as if on cue and
Vasily entered.  The moment he came into view, Alex could tell that Vasily was thoroughly incensed, and he did not sense that his captor’s mood was a ruse.

Then Alex saw what
Vasily held in his hand, and he knew it was going to be a very bad day indeed; this was not what he had been expecting.

Victor was pleased.  Team six had found the dacha
in the photos at four o’clock on the first day of the search.  It was his third day in Russia, Anna’s fifth day in hiding.  Father would be proud.

The cabin was only about fifteen kilometers from where Victor had set up base, so he decided to take a jeep rather than the helicopter.  If it was Anna, he did not want the noise to give her any warning.  Team six reported that they had not seen Anna, or anybody else for that matter, but they were sure that somebody was living there as the fireplace was in use and there were two sets of female footprints in the snow.  Victor was feeling lucky.

Per Victor’s instructions, the leader of team six met him where they had parked their snowmobiles, down the road from the dacha.  “There’s been no activity since our call, Sir.”

“Good.  Have your partner wait around back while we go to the door.  I don’t want to take any chances.”

As they approached the front door, Victor said, “You wait back here, out of sight.”  He did not bother trying to explain to the man why a heavy hand could be strategically counterproductive.  It was enough that Victor himself knew that the interrogation would start the moment he rapped on the door, and here again he wanted to be more Sherlock Holmes than Gestapo.

When no one answered his knock, Victor shouted, “I can see the smoke from your fire.  Please open the door.”  He was sure the soldier behind him was rolling his eyes
at his geniality but Victor didn’t care; he wasn’t the ignorant thug.

A bolt drew back, the door opened with a squeak, and there she stood.  Even scared and unbathed, Anna
Zaitseva was breathtaking.  The photographs had not done her justice.  They didn’t capture the glow of her skin or the sparkle in her eyes.  Actually, at the moment it was more of a defiant glint than a sparkle, but her amber orbs were beautiful nonetheless.

Victor walked past her into the cabin without a word.  It took less than a minute for him to determine that mother wasn’t there.  It was just as well.  He didn’t want to waste time dealing with an old woman.  Coming home to find her daughter gone would be penance enough for her sins.  “Where’s mom?”

“She’s gone for food.”

Victor nodded.  It made sense.  You could hardly put out an APB for “old woman” but tall auburn-haired beauty with large breasts and sultry amber eyes was a different story.  So naturally, mom made all the contact with the outside world.

In life, even more than in pictures, Anna reminded Victor of the actress Uma Thurman.  Uma Thurman with an MD; this girl was in the wrong country.  “Put your coat on, Uma,” he commanded.

Anna looked at him inquisiti
vely but didn’t say anything.  She did as he told her.  He locked a pair of handcuffs around her wrists as though pinning on a corsage and escorted her from the hideout.  Then Victor yelled “Burn it” to the senior officer when the angle was right to give him a casual view of her face.  He wanted to make certain Anna understood that her life had changed, permanently.

Victor did not speak during the ride back to the helicopter; it was part of his interrogation technique.  Let her get uncomfortable.  Let her mind run wild
while waiting for the next blind lash.  Make her want to speak just to fill the painful void of anticipation.  He sat beside her on the back seat, opening walnuts with a big pair of rusty pliers,
crack, crack, crack
.  He thought he detected a quiver with each new nut, but he wasn’t sure—the ride was hardly a smooth one.  They arrived at the helicopter ten minutes later.  It was well below zero, but Anna was sweating.

The helicopter was
an Mi-8, which boasted a relatively quiet salon and offered them plenty of room for face-to-face discussion or whatever else might strike his fancy.  They climbed into the back and Victor ordered the pilot to fly full throttle for Academic City.  His team could take the train back.

Once they were airborne, Victor un-cuffed Anna, removed her sheepskin coat and hat, and then put the handcuffs back on.

“Are you comfortable?”

She nodded.

“Are you comfortable?” he repeated, much harsher this time.

“Yes.”

Then in decrescendo, “Good.  Now, where is the print-out?”

“It was in the dacha.  The one you just burned.”

“Nice try, Uma.  But, you’re not that stupid,
crack
, and I’m not that stupid,
crack
, so please don’t insult either one of us again.” 
Crack, crack
.

“Do you know how I found you?”

“No.”

“Alex told me where you were.”

Anna gasped.

“Don’t get me wrong.  He did put up a fight, but…
”  Victor let his voice drift off as he shook his head slowly back and forth.  Then he took her hand in his.  “Tell me about the print-out, Anna.  Where is it?”  He queried with a sickly-sweet voice, rubbing one of her knuckles all the while.

Tears began to
flow down her face.  “I don’t know where it is.”

“You don’t know…
You don’t know…,” he said, keeping his voice low as he looked out the window.  Then Victor turned to look her in the eye.  “We’ve only been flying for ten minutes.  It will take us at least three hours to get back to Academic City.  Hell, if the weather gets bad, we may have to touch down and spend the night in this thing.”  He slipped the pliers around the middle knuckle on her index finger, waggled the teeth a bit, waited a moment, then looked her in the eye and said: “So before you give me another bullshit answer, you need to ask yourself one question: How sensitive are your nipples?”

Victor was thrilled by how quickly his strategy had worked, but not surprised.  If someone laid hardware on his genitals, he would sing like a sparrow (preferably before, rather than after).  Victor had not used the pliers on Anna.  His father had ordered him not to harm her.  Of course she had no way of knowing that, so his properly played threat had been enough.  He kept the pliers out as a reminder anyway.  Every once in a while he cracked open another walnut just to keep the atmosphere alive.

While walking
her through the interrogation, he felt a flood of confidence begin to wash over him.  By the time they were half way to Academic City, he was sure he knew everything that she knew, and he was feeling better than at any other point in his life.  Vasily would have to respect him now.  Talk about leaving on a high note.

Although Victor was convinced that Anna had told all, he had to be certain.  Meticulous.  “You know Anna, you’re much smarter than Alex.  He chose to go through days of the best my colleagues had to offer before telling us where to find you.  So much pain, so little gain. 
Such a waste.  And it’s not over yet.  Shall I tell you what we have planned for him?”

Anna did not respond, so Victor leaned over and lightly bit her ear lobe.  Then he whispered exactly what it was they had planned for Alex.  Afterwards, he sat back to appraise his work.  Although she had been pale before, Anna was positively ghostly now.  It was time for the coup-de-grace.

“If you’ve held out on me, I’ll see that you get a one-way ticket to the Lubyanka.  You know what happens to people at the Lubyanka, don’t you, Uma?  These,”
crack
, “these are what you beg for after your first day.  You see, pliers may be effective, but they’re not particularly efficient for a long-term operation.  In the Lubyanka they have mastered the pain-to-damage ratio.  The only result that counts for the scientists there is sustainable discomfort.  It’s a contest among those guys.  If you’ve lied to me, I will probably visit the Lubyanka basement on weekends to watch you scream and squirm while I drink vodka and enjoy blinis with caviar.”

“And what’s to happen to me if you
are
satisfied with my cooperation?”

It was her first question, and an inevitable one.  In truth he did
not know what father had planned for Anna, but he wasn’t about to reveal his ignorance.  Given that he shared Vasily’s genes, Victor felt he could make a good guess.  The only thing that was going to keep his pants on for the next hour was Vasily’s order that she not be touched.

“Assuming you’ve been truthful, and completely truthful, all that has occurred will be chalked up to your being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  We will consider you the victim of American subversion, rather than a coconspirator.

“Now, is there anything you would like to add?”

“No.  You know it all.”

Excellent
.

Vexed.  That was what he was. 
Vasily was Vexed.  It was Ferris.  Despite a week of wrenching torture, Alex still maintained his annoyingly witty veneer.  The unwavering persistence of his flippant remarks had gotten under Vasily’s skin.  How was he doing it?  Vasily was in control, complete control, yet somehow Alex seemed to be the one scoring points. 
Vexed
.

Vasily
paused for a moment.  Yes, that was it.  It had been so long since he had engaged a worthy opponent that he had forgotten what it felt like.  The boy was good, very good.  Well, Vasily would beat Alex at his own game.  He would defeat him, one-on-one. Alex would die with no doubt as to exactly who had beaten him, who had bested him, who had won.  He owed that much to Yarik.

Time to shake things up a bit
,
he thought, removing a propane torch from the supply closet.  He flipped it over twice in his hand, getting a feel for its balance and weight as he grabbed a sparking igniter from the shelf.  Then Vasily flung open the door to the interrogation suite, rocking it on its hinges.

“No more games, Alex.  No more thrust and parry, no more tit for tat.  Today you are going to tell me everything.”

“What is it you want from me today, Vasily?”

Vasily
felt himself going red. 
No.  Don’t let him get to you.  You’re better than he is.  Beat the boy at his own game
.

“Give me the list.”

“Which list is that?”

“Do you really want to play games, Alex?”  He squeezed the sparker twice.

“Actually a good game of chess sounds wonderful.  You any good?”

“Perhaps later.”

“After drinks, you mean?”

Vasily
held up the torch and gave Alex a very serious look.  “Left eye or right eye?” 

“If it’s up to me, I’ll choose your left eye,
Vasily.”

He turned on the propane and gave the sparker another squeeze.  Then he adjusted the flame to a small, blue cone.  Satisfied with his tool,
Vasily grabbed Alex by the hair on the back of his head and began pushing his face closer to the flame.  He did it slowly, drawing it out, letting Alex feel his power. 

“Okay, okay, gee wiz.  Where’s your sense of humor,
Vasily.  Give someone a big star for their shoulder board and it’s all work work work.”

Vasily
stopped pressing, but did not pull Alex’s head back yet.  He left it there until the smell of burning hair filled the air.  Twenty seconds and Alex’s eyelid would be gone.  Another minute after that and his eyeball would come to a boil in its socket. 
Cocky bastard
. 

Alex would die, and soon, but not yet.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved Alex’s head back from the flame.  “Last chance.”

“I’d be happy to show you the list Vasily, if you’ll let me go afterwards.”

“Show me?  Show me?  Surely you’re not in the mood for more games, Alex,” he said, picking up the blowtorch again.  “I know you don’t have the list stashed anywhere
around here.”

“Yes, your boys were quite thorough in their examination.  My compliments.  I mean I’ll take you to the list.”

“Take me to it?”

“That’s right. 
Do we have a deal?”

“Sure.”

“And once you have the list you’ll drop me off at the US Consulate?  Forgive and forget and all that?”

“Wherever you like.” 
Alex would have to be mad to believe that.  Was it possible?
  Excessive humor was often the first sign of madness.

“Deal.”

“Let’s go.”

“Just you and me?”

“Don’t push it?”

“You afraid,
Vasily?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Well then?”

Vasily
scoffed.  It hardly mattered.  He was a god in this town, and Alex could barely walk, much less run.  He would defeat him, one-on-one...  “Okay.  Why not.  Let’s go.”

“I need some time to clean up.  Can’t really go anywhere looking like this.  I have my pride you know.”

“I’m not a patient man, Alex.”

“Just a few more hours.  The place
we’ll be visiting doesn’t open until after dark, and I see by your shave that the sun’s still shining.  Besides, I’ve got to say goodbye to all my new friends.”

Vasily
kept a serious look on his face but smiled inside.  After dark would be just perfect.