flashlights in every direction searching for some instruction. In the distance, a hundred or so meters down the tunnel, there was a light.
Setting off toward the light, along the narrow ledge, the water level in the tunnel was rising, splashing around their knees. Each step required ferocious concentration. Only meters away, Leo saw a lantern fixed to the wall above the outline of a door. Scraping at the thick slime that covered the walls, he pushed the door open. Water poured in, down a flight of concrete stairs descending farther underground. They hurried, closing the door behind them, cutting the water off- relieved to be clear of the perilous ledge.
Inside the narrow spiral staircase the air was dank and hot. They descended in silence, their breathing echoing around the closed chamber. After fifty or so steps they came across another door. Leo pushed hard on the steel frame, the hinges creaking. There was no stench of sewage, no flowing water, just silence. He turned to Lazar:
– Stay here.
Leo entered the new tunnel, exploring it with his flashlight. The walls were dry. His foot kicked a steel track- they were in a metro tunnel.
Like an underground sunrise a soft yellow light appeared, emanating from an old-fashioned mining lantern, a flickering gas flame held by a man. He was alone, his proportions grotesquely muscular, tattoos stretched across his hands and neck.
– Don’t move.
The vory searched Leo and Lazar. Finished, he shut the steel door that led up to the sewers, locking it. He swung around, indicating the direction they were going to walk. They set off, Leo in front, Lazar just behind, the vory at the back, commenting as they went:
– This metro line isn’t on any map. After it was completed the workers were executed so that its existence could remain a secret. It’s called the spetztunnel and it runs from Kremlin to Ramenkoye, an underground town fifty kilometers away. If the West attacks our leaders will descend here, sitting on silk cushions while Moscow burns.
After some distance the vory stopped walking.
– Here.
There was a steel door in the wall. Leo opened it, shining his flash-light up at the concrete stairway, thankful that it climbed upward. The vory closed the door on them. Seconds later there was a hissing sound: the lock was rendered useless with acid. No one could follow them.
Damp with sweat, they reached the top of the steps, finding the door unlocked and exiting into Taganskaya metro station. Leo walked out of the station into the middle of Taganskaya Square, exasperated, searching for what to do next. Lazar raised his arm, pointing in the direction of the river some two hundred meters away. There was a woman standing in the middle of Bolshoy Krasnokholmskiy Bridge.
Leo hurried, Lazar by his side. As they reached the riverbank, without the protection of the buildings, the wind doubled in strength. The bridge was a stark concrete arch, and swirling below, the Moskva was tumultuous with the night’s downpour. The woman remained in the middle of the bridge, waiting for them, rain sloshing off her jacket. Drawing close, Leo recognized that jacket. It belonged to him.
Raisa lowered her hood.
Running forward, reaching her side, taking her hands, he was befuddled with emotions-concern and relief. Raisa shook her hands free of his grip.
– Why didn’t you tell me about Zoya? She held a knife over you. You told me nothing was wrong. You lied to me, about something like that? What did we promise? No more lies! No more secrets! We promised, Leo!
– Raisa, I panicked. I wanted a chance to put things right before telling you. After you came out of hospital, I was preparing to go to Kolyma. You were still weak.
– Leo, I wasn’t weak. You were! This isn’t about being a hero. It’s about what’s best for Zoya and Elena. I met Fraera. She came to me. There’s no way she’s going to hand Zoya over to you. It’s never going to happen.
On the south side of the bridge car headlights appeared, beams of light blurred by the downpour. The car accelerated toward them, causing Leo to raise his hand, shielding his eyes from the powerful headlights. The car braked. Doors opened. The driver was a vory. Fraera stepped out of the passenger side, indifferent to the rain. She glanced at Leo, then at Raisa, before concentrating her attention on Lazar, her husband.
Lazar walked toward her, uncertain, evidently shocked, despite Leo’s warnings, at her transformation. They stood opposite each other. Exploring his appearance, she touched the side of his face, feeling the shape of his injured jaw. He winced at her touch but didn’t pull away. She said:
– You have suffered.
Leo watched as Lazar mouthed the words:
– We have… a son?
– Our son is dead. Your wife is dead.
A gunshot, a flash of light-Lazar fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.
Leo ran forward, catching Lazar as he fell. His teeth were red with blood. Stunned by the senseless execution, Leo turned to Fraera:
– Why?
She didn’t reply, looming over him, offering no explanation. He looked down at Lazar’s body, cradled in his arms. The man he’d betrayed, and rescued, the man who’d saved his life, was dead. Leo lowered his body, laying him down on the road.
Fraera grabbed Leo by the shirt:
– Get in the front of the car.
She waved her gun at Raisa:
– You too!
Leo stood up, climbing into the driver’s seat. Raisa was in the passenger seat. Zoya was in the back, her wrists and ankles bound. Her mouth was gagged-her eyes were terrified. The car had been modified. There was a grate between them. Raisa and Leo simultaneously pressed their hands up against the wire.
– Zoya!
Zoya pressed her face against the other side, pleading through the gag for help. Their fingers touched. Leo shook the grate but it held fast.
The back door was opened: Fraera leaned in, grabbing Zoya, pulling her, lifting her out. Leo spun around, trying to open the door. It was locked. It couldn’t be opened from the inside. Raisa tried her door, to no avail. Fraera and the vory carried Zoya to the trunk. The vory picked up a grain sack, opening it while Fraera lowered Zoya in.
Leo swiveled round, aiming his boots squarely at the side window. Like a mule, he kicked out again and again, his soles bouncing off, the plate glass remaining intact. Raisa cried out:
– Leo!
Leo scrambled across to Raisa’s side of the car, the side nearest to the river. The vory and Fraera were carrying the sack, Zoya was struggling to break out, thrashing and twisting, fighting for her life. The vory slapped her across the face, knocking the resistance out of her for long enough to push her down and secure the sack. The pair of them together lifted the sack. It was weighted. The unconscious Zoya was heaved up onto the ledge. Leo’s face was flat against the plate glass as he watched the sack being pushed off the bridge. He caught a glimpse of it plummeting toward the river.
Fraera perched on the hood of the car, squatting, her face close to the windscreen, eyes on fire, lapping up their pain like a cat licking cream. Exploding with rage, Leo pummeled the windscreen, uselessly banging his fists, trapped behind reinforced glass. Fraera watched, delighting in his helplessness, before jumping down and mounting the back of a bike. Leo hadn’t even noticed that two motorcycles had pulled up alongside them.
Trapped in the car, Leo kicked the ignition, exposing the wiring. Sparking the connections, he put his foot down on the accelerator, revving the engine, driving as if in pursuit of Fraera. Raisa called out:
– Leo! Zoya!
Leo wasn’t chasing Fraera. Picking up enough speed, he swung the car violently left, toward the barricade. The car smashed against the edge of the bridge, ripping the side off, tearing it open. With the engine smoking, the wheels spinning on the curb, Leo turned to his wife. Raisa had cut her head, but she was already out of her seat, climbing out the smashed side. He staggered after her, reaching the point where Zoya had been dropped.
