Snow Wolf (54 page)

He kicked the starter and the BMW revved
wildly and roared forward, the front wheel lifting with the sudden burst of
power, before he tore between a narrow gap in the jeeps.

Lukin was sitting at a table in the staff
canteen eating a plateful of cabbage and pickled beef and potatoes, but despite
his hunger he was barely tasting the food. A dozen or so officers and men sat
around, eating and smoking during their break.

He had hardly taken a couple of mouthfuls
when the adjutant burst in through the swinging doors. Lukin put down his fork
and wiped his mouth as the adjutant strode over, carrying a map.

"Some news just in. A militia mobile
patrol stopped a man and woman on a BMW motorcycle who resembled the ones we're
looking for. It happened on a minor road west of Pushkin, near the Baltic
Highway, about three minutes ago. When the couple were challenged, the man
produced a gun and killed a lieutenant and a sergeant. the other two militiamen
managed to raise the alarm. Right now they're pursuing the culprits in a
jeep."

Lukin jumped to his feet and grabbed the
map and spread it on the table. "Show me where."

The adjutant pointed to a spot on the
map. "Here. About thirty kilometers away. By fast car, maybe half an hour
if the roads are not bad. But it's going to be difficult to catch up with a
motorbike, and they've got a head start. I've told the exchange the details and
ordered six other patrols in the area to be alerted. Several are moving to
surround the region right now. Maybe if we can fence them in we've got a
chance. Make them go around in decreasing circles until we've cornered them
like rats." Lukin grabbed the map and his pistol and holster and said,
"Get my car. You have two motorcycle outriders ready?"

"Ready and waiting in the basement
garage, along with your driver ..."

Lukin was already moving toward the door
like a man possessed, shouting back over his shoulder at the adjutant.
"You man the radios here. I want to be kept in touch at all times!"

Stanski was sweating as Anna clung to him
and the BMW roared along the dark, narrow country road.

He was doing sixty kilometers an hour,
taking corners as fast as he dared, skidding dangerously each time he tore
around bends.

Anna shouted, "Slow down or you'll
kill us both!"

"Those two militia are going to
radio in what happened," Stanski roared back. "We have to get away
from here fast."

At the next bend he didn't heed her
warning, and as the motorbike rounded the sharp curve he felt the wheels start
to go from under him and suddenly the bike skidded on a patch of slush. There
was a screech of rubber and they careened across the road into a ditch, Stanski
ending up on top of the revving motorbike, Anna flung off and landing in some
bushes.

Stanski swore and struggled free, the
engine still running. "Damn!" He switched off the engine and went to
help her.

"Are you all right?"

She took his outstretched hand and he
pulled her out of the ditch. "I ... I think so ... I don't know." The
BMW's headlight was still working and Stanski saw that there was a deep cut on
her forehead. Her clothes were covered in slush and bramble, and her hands were
scratched. He wiped her face with her headscarf and then tied it around her
bloodied forehead.

"It'll have to do for now, I'm
afraid."

"What about the motorbike?"

"I'll have a look."

As he went to retrieve the bike he looked
back and saw a blaze of headlights approaching at speed behind them on the
road.

"The militia must have followed us
or alerted another patrol."

He quickly righted the BMW and checked it
as best he could. There didn't appear to be any real damage but the front wheel
was tangled with grass and bramble.

He went to work frantically, tearing it
away, and then he mounted the machine and kicked the starter arm. The engine
made a sputtering sound and died. "Christ ... !"

"Try it again!"

He did. It sounded the same. They both
looked back. The headlights were coming closer, moving rapidly. Stanski took
out his pistol and handed it to Anna.

"if they get close enough, try to
shoot out their headlights."

He tried to start the BMW once more but
the engine died again.

"Damn it to hell!"

Suddenly Anna pointed and cried,
"Look!"

Coming in the other direction along the
road Stanski saw a convoy of lights, perhaps three vehicles in all, maybe a
kilometer away or less. He turned back frantically, sweat on his face.

Across the road up ahead, twenty meters
away, was a gate leading into a field covered in snow. It led down a long slope
into darkness.

He pointed to the gate and shouted to
Anna, "Open it!"

,,What?"

"The gate-open it---quickly Anna ran
across the road and went to push the gate open. It refused to budge. She tried
again. It was stuck hard.

Stanski ran over to her and kicked at the
gate, hammering at it madly until it burst open. He said to her, "Stay
there!"

He ran back to the BMW, climbed on, and
with all his weight kicked the starter arm with terrific force and the engine
thundered at last.

The convoy was almost on top of them but
at that moment they heard the roar of an engine from the other direction, as a
covered jeep came around the corner at speed, skidding to a halt.

Stanski drove toward Anna at the gate as
they were both caught in the sudden glare of the jeep's headlights. Suddenly
from both directions there were blasts of gunfire, bullets kicking up snow and
stitching across the road, as voices barked orders and vehicles screeched to a
halt, men jumping out of cars and trucks.

Stanski grabbed Anna's arm and pulled her
onto the bike, revved the engine, and they tore through the open gate into the
field and down the slope, as bursts of rifle and machine-gun fire crackled
behind them.

Lukin's heart was pounding.

The wail of the siren screamed into the
night as the Zil ate up the road, the driver working hard to keep the big car
from skidding.

They had already covered thirty
kilometers in twenty minutes, the two militia motorbike riders in helmets and
goggles on either side of the car racing ahead every now and then to clear
traffic in the way. As they sped through a country village the radio crackled
and Lukin picked up the hand mike.

"Lukin."

The adjutant's voice came back.
"Base here, sir. We ran into them again. The same country road six kilometers
east."

"What happened?" Lukin said
urgently.

"They're still on the motorbike.
When the patrols caught up with them they drove into a field and
disappeared."

"Don't lose them!" Lukin roared
into the mike. "Cut them off! Cut them off!"

"We're doing that, sir. The patrols
have gone after them on foot. According to one of the militia, the field runs
down to a valley and a stretch of forest. Four minor dirt roads leading in and
out. I'm having them all covered as we speak."

"Whatever you do, don't let them escape!
I'm on my way." Lukin dropped the mike and said to the driver, "You
heard him. The same road. And keep your foot down. We haven't got all
day"'

The BMW roared down the slope and when
they came to the bottom Stanski braked. There was a narrow frozen stream, a
dark forest beyond it.

Anna looked back over her shoulder and
saw lights. Figures were running down the incline after them, bullets cracking
into the trees on either side.

Stanski shouted back ' "Hold on as
tight as you can. This is where it's going to get rough."

Once across the frozen stream the
headlight illuminated a rugged track through cavernous woods.

The tires crunched and bumped over the
track, the smell of pine in the forest almost overwhelming. Minutes later they
cut out onto a broader, heavily rutted road that had obviously been used by
forestry vehicles. There were banks of freshly felled trees stacked nearby and
Stanski said to Anna, "Have we been followed?"

"I haven't seen anyone. Not since we
left the field."

He stopped the bike and pulled up his
goggles, his face covered in dirt.

"Give me the map."

Anna removed it from her blouse and
Stanski lit a match and tried to read it in the spluttering light.

"Where are we?"

"A place called Bear Valley Forest,
by the looks of it. But how we get out of it, God only knows. There are no
roads marked on the map."

Stanski looked around at her face. It was
pale and frozen and he could see the terrible strain and fear. "Anna, if
we get into trouble, keep your pill ready, you understand?"

"I thought we were in trouble
already."

He smiled grimly. "Then let's hope
it doesn't get any worse. OK, let's see if we can find a way out of here."

He revved the throttle and turned right
onto the forest road.

Lukin's car halted and he saw the
headlights and activity up ahead, half a dozen vehicles cramming the narrow
road, uniformed men milling about.

He climbed out of the car and ran up to a
captain who looked in charge.

He flashed his ID. "Major Lukin, KGB
Moscow. I authorized this pursuit. What's going on here?"

The captain saluted. "They got away,
sir. The crazy bastards drove into a forest down below. I've sent a dozen men
down after them but we haven't got suitable transport to pursue."

Lukin noticed that a gate into a field
was open, a single tire mark cutting down the starched white field. He saw
figures at the bottom of the slope with flashlights. Loud voices reached him
from the darkness below.

He turned back to the captain urgently.
"Get on your radio and make sure all roads leading out of there are
blocked off. I want every available man ringing those woods. Do it, man!"

"It's already been done, sir
..."

"Then get on the radio again and
make sure it is. I'm holding you personally responsible. And inform any patrols
going into the area I'm on my way down." Lukin looked around frantically,
already knowing what he had to do. He saw a sergeant with a Kalashnikov and
said to the captain, "I want that man's weapon."

"Sir?"

"The Kalashnikov, bring it
here."

As the captain scurried over to the
sergeant, Lukin ran back to the two motorcycle riders who had dismounted. He
grabbed one of the machines, climbed on and kicked it into life.

As the startled rider began to protest,
Lukin roared, "Out of my way!"

He drove over to the captain, grabbed the
Kalashnikov from him and slung it around his neck.

The captain looked at Lukin doubtfully as
he sat on the machine with only one good hand, and stepped in front of the
motorbike. "Sir, it might be better if you waited. Going after those two
alone is only begging for trouble. Besides-"

"Besides what? I'm a cripple? The
advantage of one good arm, Captain, is that it soon gains the strength of two.
Out of my way."

The machine roared and the captain jumped
back just as Lukin drove across the road, through the gate and down the slope.

Stanski was lost.

The forest was a maze of narrow paths and
in the darkness it was impossible to guess which led where. There were no
signposts and more than once he had to stop to check the map and the compass.

Sweat dripped down his face and every
time he glanced back at Anna he saw the raw fear in her eyes.

Suddenly the road widened and a wooden
sign before a bend up ahead said "Caution-Exit to Kolimka Road. Traffic
ahead."

As he came around the bend he squeezed
hard on the brakes and skidded to a halt.

Half a dozen jeeps and trucks and a line
of soldiers and militiamen stood across the road, waiting silently in the
darkness, readying their weapons.

A voice called out, "Halt! Dismount
and throw down your weapons! "

Stanski revved and frantically spun the
BMW around.

There was a terrible volley of fire which
exploded through the forest, lead zinging through the air and cracking all
around them, as Stanski tore back the way they had come.

It was almost impossible.

Lukin had to use his feet for balance,
finding it hard to control the machine with one hand.

He halted on the bumpy lane that led
through the woods, his good arm aching from the effort of gripping the
handlebar, sweat pumping from every pore.

He had followed the tire marks through
the forest but now he switched off the engine, listening for noises in the
woods or the sound of an engine, but all he heard was his own heart thumping in
his ears.

And then A thunderous volley of gunfire
erupted somewhere close and his heart skipped.