“I’m Kulyakov,” the sandy-haired man said. “I want you to remember me. Do you know Alyona?”
“Only by her photo in the Chorna Kishka cafe,” he said, so if she were listening she would know he knew who she was and that he was there to help. Unless her mind, after what they had done to her, was too far gone.
“She’s being very stubborn,” Kulyakov said. “All I want is some information.”
Then a heavily muscled arm put Scorpion in a choke hold from behind. The second man, he thought. His wrist was grabbed and twisted behind him in a painful hammer lock.
“Call off your sobaka, ” Scorpion gasped. Your dog. “I can help. We want the same thing.”
“What thing is that?” Kulyakov said, motioning to the second man to hold still for a moment.
“Shelayev. We’re both looking for him.”
“Are we?”
“Gorobets needs to make sure Shelayev doesn’t talk. Only he’s disappeared.”
Kulyakov shrugged. “So?”
“So you need to find him. Otherwise you’d have no interest in Alyona or her friends, except for your perverted little fantasies.”
“What is this, a Glock?” Kulyakov said, looking at the pistol in his hand. He smiled, showing bad teeth. “It’s light. I like this pistolet. You shouldn’t tempt someone holding such a light pistolet; so easy to shoot,” and he aimed it at Scorpion.
“Don’t be stupid. Killing me will make an assassination that everyone assumes I did into an assassination that everyone will assume Gorobets did,” Scorpion said, wondering where the hell Iryna was.
“No,” Kulyakov said. “Killing Cherkesov’s assassin will make me a hero.”
Then Scorpion heard a sound from somewhere behind him. Damn, he thought. She needed to be quiet.
Kulyakov said something in Ukrainian that sounded like an order. Scorpion felt the second man let him go and head back toward the other room.
“Don’t move,” Kulyakov said, aiming the Glock at Scorpion. “I’m dying to try out this pistolet.”
Two shots rang out. At the first shot, knowing the sound would distract Kulyakov for an instant, Scorpion moved. He stepped forward, parrying the Glock aside, the first move in the Krav Maga sequence, followed by taking the gun away from Kulyakov in a twisting wrist move. Scorpion debated killing him as he reversed the gun and pointed it in a shooting stance at Kulyakov. No, he needed to question him. He motioned Kulyakov to his knees. After a moment’s hesitation, Kulyakov glaring at him, knelt on his knees.
From the next room, Iryna screamed. Scorpion kicked Kulyakov in the face, whirled and ran back toward the other room, where he saw Iryna struggling with the second man. Sensing Scorpion behind him, the man turned and jumped at him. There was no time to think. Scorpion shot him in the head. The man fell facedown at Scorpion’s feet.
“What happened?” he asked Iryna, stepping over the body.
“I shot him in the shoulder,” she said. “He came too fast.”
“Come,” Scorpion grabbed her hand. “Hurry!”
They went into the puppet room.
“Gospadi.” Iryna gasped at the sight of Alyona and the hanging bodies. Kulyakov was gone. Alyona’s naked body was jerking like a fish on the line, her head underwater in the tub again. Before he had fled, Kulyakov lowered her back into the ice water.
Scorpion grabbed Alyona and lifted her up so her head was out of the water. She was coughing, squirming as she fought him. Holding her slippery body up, he tried to kick the tub of water over, but it was too heavy. He moved her body so it hung beside the tub and let her dangle head down while he ran to the other room to grab his backpack. She was still jerking on the line when he came back and used his Leatherman pliers’ blades to cut the cable holding her. He cut her bonds and freed her, pulling the tape from her mouth.
When Alyona saw Iryna, she screamed, clutched at her and began to sob. Iryna held her in her arms. The room was in a shambles, the puppets swaying in the shadows. Scorpion looked around. Kulyakov had to have used the metal stairs to the stage to get away.
He ran up the stairs and onto the stage. A door banged in the lobby. He leapt from the stage to the aisle and ran out to the lobby and the theatre doors, scanning the snow-covered walkways and steps. There was no sign of Kulyakov.
He went around to the side of the building, but it was too dark to see. He should’ve brought his night-vision goggles, he thought as he scanned the slope. There were what looked like fresh footsteps and a bloodstain on the snow. It could have come from Kulyakov’s nose when he kicked him. But there was nothing moving on the slope. He realized that Kulyakov must have made it to the trees, his eyes searching the mass of branches in the darkness. He was about to start down the slope when he spotted a militsiyu van, moving slowly on the road along the periphery of the park. The van stopped.
Scorpion stepped back into the shadows of the theatre entrance. From inside the van, a powerful flashlight was pointed at the theatre. The light moved toward him and he froze against the wall, holding his breath. If they found him, he would be in prison and the war would start. The beam of light almost touched him, then moved past. After what seemed like an hour but was probably less than fifteen seconds, he heard the van move on. He peeked out and saw it was gone, then went back down the stairs to the puppet room.
Iryna had found a canvas tarp to wrap around Alyona. She lit a cigarette and held it for Alyona, whose hand was shaking too much to hold it herself.
“She saw them killed,” Iryna said, indicating the hanging bodies. “She needs to go to a hospital.”
“What about Shelayev?” Scorpion asked.
“Can’t it wait?” Iryna said sharply. She put her arms around Alyona. “She’s shaking like a leaf.”
“No, it can’t,” Scorpion said.
Iryna used her sweater to dry Alyona’s wet hair. “We need a doctor. Now.”
“Get someone private. Someone who won’t talk. Is there anyone you know?”
“I don’t know. My gynecologist. What good is that?” Iryna said. “Look at her!” Alyona was slumped over, her head down, the cuts raw and bleeding, her body still shaking.
“Why the hell do you think they were torturing her? Why do you think they killed the other two?” he asked, grabbing his backpack. He hooked it over his shoulder and went looking for Alyona’s clothes.
“I don’t know. Shelayev?” Iryna said.
Scorpion nodded grimly. “Whatever help we get her has to be safe or they’ll grab her again. Where are her clothes?”
Iryna asked Alyona in Ukrainian and she pointed with a trembling hand at a corner. Scorpion went over and found a pile of clothes. Some were from the dead couple, Ekaterina and Fedir. A pair of jeans, a top, and a jacket looked like they would fit Alyona. They used the dead couple’s clothes to dry Alyona off. Iryna helped her dress, while Scorpion went back upstairs to see if anyone was coming.
The park was deserted, the snow pale under the lone streetlight.
“We have to go. They’ll be back any second,” he said, coming back down to the puppet room. Iryna had succeeded in getting Alyona dressed. She sat on a bench, her head slumped.
“Can you stand?” Scorpion asked Alyona.
She didn’t move. Iryna looked at him.
“Take this,” he said, handing her his backpack. He stood Alyona up and threw her over his shoulder, switching the Glock back to his other hand. He climbed the metal stairs, Alyona a dead weight over his shoulder, and carried her outside, the going difficult on the frozen snow. She was shivering violently, making it hard to carry her. He kept looking around for any sign of Kulyakov as he went forward. For the moment they were hidden from the street. Luckily, they were going downhill, with nothing around but snow and bare trees.
Alyona had protected Shelayev despite the torture, Scorpion thought, and had seen Kulyakov kill her friends. She would protect Shelayev from him as well. He had to figure a way to get her to tell him where Shelayev was hiding. He sensed Iryna just behind him. It was hard going and they had to hurry. Gorobets’s men might be back any second.
Scorpion pushed on harder through the snow.
