Snow Wolf (53 page)

"But not west toward the Baltic?
You're supposing these people won't turn back."

The adjutant half smiled. "If they
turn back then maybe you've nothing to worry about."

"The object is to catch them,"
Lukin said sharply. "We haven't manned the roads to the Baltic. Traffic
either way. In or out." Lukin stared at the man, waiting for a reply.

"Of course, but the question of
manpower-"

"Arrange it."

The traffic was heavy when they reached
the Neva River, and Stanski veered left and took the road out toward Pushkin.
He drove slowly, still getting the feel of the powerful BMW, flicking switches
on the handlebars to familiarize himself with the machine. When they stopped at
traffic lights on Turgenev Square, he spoke over his shoulder to Anna.

"All right back there?"

"Apart from the fact that I'm
freezing to death.

Stanski smiled. "Push your body
closer to mine. It may help."

"Help you or me? That coat you're
wearing smells like it belongs in a pig sty."

Stanski laughed and she held him tighter
as the lights turned green. He was about to change into gear when they both
heard a whistle blow. A young policeman standing outside a traffic kiosk in the
center of the square was staring at them and waving them over.

"Oh my God," said Anna.

"Relax. Let me do the talking."

"Can't we just drive on?"

"Do that and we're asking for
trouble."

The traffic policeman blew his whistle
again and Stanski nudged through the traffic and drove over. The man
scrutinized the BMW as he slapped a black truncheon into the palm of his open
hand.

"Just what the hell do you think
you're on, comrade?"

"Sorry?"

"A motorbike or a suicide
mission?" The man looked at Stanski with narrowed eyes, then tapped his
truncheon on the headlamp. "You're driving with no lights on."

Stanski leaned forward to look at the
headlight. He must have switched it off when he had been trying to familiarize
himself with the machine and forgot to switch it on again. He smiled innocently
at the policeman and began to fumble at the handlebars, looking for the switch.
When he couldn't find it, the policeman said, "This your machine,
comrade?"

"Yes."

"And you don't know where the light
switch is?"

Stanski continued feeling for the switch,
but the policeman reached over, flicked a knob on the handlebars, and the
lights sprang on.

"Well, comrade? What's the matter?
Are you dumb as well as blind?"

Stanski tried to look suitably fearful of
the man's authority. "Thank you, comrade. I'm sorry. I only bought the
machine today. I'm not familiar with the switches."

"If you're not familiar with it, why
are you driving the beast? Let me see your papers."

Stanski told Anna to climb down and he
propped up the heavy bike and found his papers. A second policeman, a sergeant,
came over from the kiosk, curious.

"A problem?"

"This durak here thinks it's OK to
drive with no lights."

The sergeant smiled thinly. "A
serious offense. But if you want to commit suicide you should do it in your own
apartment where you won't hurt anyone. Use gas like everyone else."

The man began to examine the BMW.
"Good machine. How did you acquire it, comrade?"

"A friend sold it to me."

"His name?"

"Does it matter, Sergeant?"

"It matters if I ask." The face
looked up at Stanski's. "Your friend's name?"

"Grenady Stavinka. From
Flushkin."

"And this is . He looked at Anna.

"My wife."

The sergeant looked at Anna. "Your
husband, is he always so reckless?"

"It's why I married him. Now I'm
beginning to think it was mistake."

The sergeant laughed. He turned to his
colleague. "At least the girl's got a brain. Let her man go with a warning
this time, Boris. The woman has more sense than he has."

He looked back at Stanski. "Take
heed of your wife, comrade, You'll live longer."

"She's a treasure indeed ' little
brother."

"She is that. And if you want to
keep her alive too, learn to use that light switch."

"I will, comrade, thank you."

"Be off, now."

Stanski climbed onto the machine and Anna
followed him. He kicked into gear and the BMW drove away shakily.

The two policemen strolled back to the
traffic kiosk in the center of the square and climbed inside.

"Fine ass on that woman,
Sergeant."

"He ought to stick with saddling her
and forget about the bike."

The policeman sniggered. The telephone
rang in the kiosk. the sergeant picked it up and spoke.

"Traffic Kiosk 14, Turgenev
Square."

The sergeant listened to the sharp voice
at the other e then said finally, "Don't worry, we'll keep our eyes
open."

He slowly put down the receiver and
stared out at the ring of lights as traffic flowed around the kiosk. The other
man looked at him.

"A problem, Sergeant?"

The sergeant's face looked a little pale
as he scratched his chin. "I'm not sure. That was the central exchange.
KGB Headquarters want us to keep a lookout for a man and a woman. The
description could have been those two on the BMW."

"Did they say why they wanted
them?"

"The man is armed and dangerous. An
enemy agent. The woman's Russian, probably traveling as his wife. It's
imperative they be stopped and arrested. They've already killed an army
officer."

The other man gave a low whistle.
"You think it was that idiot on the bike?"

"Unlikely. That fucker wouldn't know
his ass from his elbow. I've seen the type before. Fourteen years in this game
and you get to read faces, Boris. That durak wasn't a killer. Even my missus
looks a lot more dangerous after she's had her quart of vodka."

"Still, they could have been the
couple. Maybe I should report it?"

The sergeant looked over at his colleague
as if he were a complete idiot.

"And have those guys from Central
crawling up our asses asking all sorts of questions?" The sergeant shook
his head. "Besides, according to the exchange, half the fucking army, the
KGB and the militia are out looking for them. Every road around the city has
been sealed off. Rest assured, they won't get far, wherever they are."

Baltic Highway, Leningrad.

As they came around a bend on the Baltic
Highway, Stanski saw the string of red taillights up ahead. He pulled to the
side of the road and doused the headlight. Alarmed, Anna said, "What's
wrong?"

"Take a look."

As cars swished past, Anna peered over
Stanski's shoulder. She could see several army and militia vehicles blocking
the highway a hundred meters ahead, a traffic tailback of rear lights glowing
in the darkness. Men in uniforms milled around, checking drivers' papers and
climbing into trucks and cars. Traffic coming from the opposite direction
looked like it was receiving the same scrutiny.

Stanski said, "Whenever I get
suspicious, I get a headache. And right now I've got a blinder. I'll bet you a
ruble it's us they're after."

"What can we do?"

"There was a minor road a couple of
kilometers back. Let's try our chances there."

He kicked the machine into gear and swung
around. He left the lights off until they had gone a couple of hundred meters,
and when they reached the minor road on the right he turned into it. The
country road was covered in patches of slush and Anna held on to him tightly as
the freezing rush of air slashed at their faces.

They had driven another five kilometers
when Stanski came around a sharp bend and they suddenly saw the blaze of lights
up ahead. It was too late.

Two covered jeeps stood in their path. An
army sergeant with a Kalashnikov and a militiaman wielding a rifle stood next
to one of the jeeps, another young militiaman sitting in the front seat,
manning a portable radio, his rifle resting across his knees.

The officer in charge stood nearby,
casually smoking a cigarette.

Stanski felt Anna's arms tighten around
his waist. He slowed the machine as the officer, a lieutenant, raised his hand
for them to stop.

Stanski brought the BMW to a halt but
kept the engine running.

The lieutenant came forward and said
loudly, "Douse that light and switch off the engine."

Stanski did as he was told. The
lieutenant flashed a light in their faces.

"Well, what have we got here? Two
lovers out for a ride in the country?"

The men and the sergeant laughed. Stanski
tried to assess the situation. Of the four men, the sergeant and the lieutenant
looked capable enough, big and strong, their necks wider than their foreheads.
But the two militiamen were barely out of their teens and they fingered their
rifles nervously.

The officer tossed his cigarette away and
stared at them suspiciously.

Stanski said calmly, "What's the
problem, comrade? You frightened the hell out of us. I could have plowed into
those jeeps of yours."

The lieutenant looked at the motorcycle,
then Anna.

He said to Stanski, "Papers, both of
YOU."

Stanski handed over his papers and Anna
did the same. The lieutenant flashed the light from the papers to their faces.
He didn't hand them back but said, "Your destination?"

"Novgorod," replied Stanski.

"That's a long drive on a cold night
like this. Your purpose?"

Stanski jerked a thumb back at Anna.
"My wife's mother is unwell. They don't think the old woman is going to
make it through the night. You know how it is, Lieutenant. My wife needs to see
her before it's too late."

"Where have you come from?"

"Leningrad. What the hell's going on
tonight? This is the second time we've been stopped on this road."

The lieutenant hesitated. Stanski's reply
seemed to ease his tension, then he slowly handed back the papers. "We're
looking for two enemy agents. A man and a woman. They killed an KGB
officer."

Stanski whistled and looked suitably
worried. "Will the road be all right from here on? I mean, I hope we're
not in any danger, comrade? My wife is distressed enough."

The officer smiled. "I doubt you'll
be bothered. But if YOU do see anyone acting suspiciously, inform the nearest
militia You may proceed."

"We'll do that, comrade." He
glanced back at Anna, "Come, let's do as the lieutenant says."

They mounted the BMW, but then the
lieutenant said softly. "One moment."

He stepped closer and shone the
flashlight again in Stanski's face. Then Anna's. The light lingered on her.

He said suspiciously, "Where was the
last checkpoint where you and your husband were stopped?"

The question seemed to hang in the air
like a threat. When Anna hesitated, she felt Stanski's body stiffen under her
arms. She noticed the two militiamen finger their rifles, taking up the cue
from the sergeant, who was readying his Kalashnikov.

The lieutenant continued to stare at
Anna. "I asked you a question' "

"Three kilometers back. There was a
car and two militiamen."

The officer's eyebrows rose. "We drove
that way not half an hour ago. There wasn't a checkpoint." He turned
smartly to the young militiaman manning the radio in the jeep and called out,
"Kashinsky, call up central exchange. Ask them if they have a checkpoint
where the woman says."

The militiaman picked up the radio
hand-mike and began to talk into it.

Stanski said to the lieutenant,
"Look, comrade, my wife is upset enough ..."

"Relax, it won't take long. If
there's a checkpoint back on the road then we're wasting our time hanging
around here."

The militiaman in the jeep was talking
away on the radio but Stanski couldn't hear the words, just a babble of static
and crackle.

Finally the militiaman in the jeep
climbed out with his rifle, a look of alarm on his face, beginning to speak
before he reached the lieutenant.

"The bitch is lying! There's no
checkpoint on that part of the road! "

It happened quickly. As the officer went
for his pistol and the other men raised their weapons, Stanski flicked the
switch on the handlebar and the headlight blazed into the darkness, blinding
the men for an instant.

He wrenched the Tokarev from his coat and
shot the officer in the chest, then fired twice at the sergeant, hitting him in
the throat and face and punching him back.

He fired two quick shots at the two young
militiamen as they scurried for cover behind the jeep, then he screamed back at
Anna, "Hold on tight!"