by Steve Berry
The pain of raw electricity surging through his body had been excruciating. Orleg had delighted in varying the contact points, starting with his forehead, then his chest, and finally his crotch, his groin now aching both from Droopy's blow and the bare wires that had sent voltage surging through his genitals. It was like cold water doused on a raw toothache, intense enough to black him out. But he'd tried to hang on, stay tough, keep alert. He couldn't slip and let anything out about Akilina. Some mythical heir of the Romanovs was one thing. She was another.
He struggled to lift himself from the floor, but his right calf was numb and he was barely able to stand. The numerals on his watch blurred in and out. He was finally able to make out five fifteen PM. Only forty-five minutes left to meet Akilina.
He hoped they'd not found her. His still being alive was perhaps confirmation of their failure. Surely when she'd called at three thirty and he hadn't spoken with her, she'd followed his instructions.
He'd been a fool to trust Filip Vitenko, thinking thousands of miles between here and Moscow enough insulation. Apparently, whoever was interested in what he was doing had sufficient connections to transcend international borders, which meant high-level government involvement, and Lord resolved not to make that mistake again. From now on he would trust no one, except Akilina and Taylor Hayes. His boss had connections. Maybe enough to counteract what was happening.
But first things first. He needed to get out of the consulate.
Orleg and Droopy were surely nearby, probably just outside. He tried to remember what happened before he passed out. All he could recall was more electricity surging through his body, enough that his heart had fluttered. He'd stared hard into Orleg's bleak eyes and seen joy. The last thing he recalled before succumbing to unconsciousness was Droopy shoving the inspector aside, saying it was his turn.
He tried once more to push himself from the floor. A wave of vertigo swirled through his head.
The office door flew open. Droopy and Orleg strolled in.
"Good, Mr. Lord. You're awake," Orleg said in Russian.
The two Russians yanked him from the floor. Instantly the room spun and nausea invaded his stomach. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling and he thought he was about to black out when a sudden rush of cold water soaked his face. The initial feeling was like the electricity, but where voltage burned, the water soothed and his dizziness began to abate.
He focused on the two men.
Droopy was holding him upright from behind. Orleg stood before him, an empty pitcher in hand.
"Still thirsty?" the inspector asked with sarcasm.
"Fuck you," he managed to say.
The back of Orleg's hand slapped his wet jaw hard. The pain from the blow roused his senses. He tasted blood on the corner of his mouth and wanted to pull free and kill the sonovabitch.
"Unfortunately," Orleg said, "the consul general is concerned about a murder taking place here. So we have arranged a little journey for you. They tell me a desert lies not far away. A perfect place to bury a body. I live in the cold. Some warm, dry air would be nice." Orleg stepped close. "There is a car waiting in the rear of this building. You will go quietly. There is no one present to hear any cry for help, and if you make one sound outside, I will slit your throat. I personally would kill you here. Right now. But orders do need to be followed, would you not agree?"
A long, curved knife appeared in Orleg's hand, its edge boasting a recent sharpening. The policeman handed it to Droopy, who pressed the flat of the blade to Lord's throat.
"I suggest you walk slow and straight," Orleg said.
The warning mattered little to Lord. He was still woozy from the torture and barely possessed the strength to stand. But he was trying to muster enough stamina to be ready if an opportunity presented itself.
Droopy shoved him out of the office and into a secretarial area devoid of people. Down a staircase they made their way toward the rear of the ground floor, past a cadre of offices, all of which were dark and empty. The glimpses he caught through windows showed that day was surrendering to night.
Orleg stepped ahead, now leading the way, stopping at a paneled wooden door outlined in elaborate molding. He unlocked the latch and opened it. Beyond, the growl of a car motor could be heard, and he saw the open rear door of a black sedan, exhaust smoke whipping mist up and over the roof. The inspector motioned for Droopy to bring their charge forward.
"Stoi," a voice called out from behind. Stop.
Filip Vitenko brushed past and moved straight toward Orleg. "I told you, Inspector, there would be no more violence where this man is concerned."
"I told you, diplomat, this does not concern you."
"Your Mr. Zubarev is gone. I am in authority here. I have spoken to Moscow and have been told to do as I see fit."
Orleg grabbed two handfuls of the envoy's jacket and slammed him to the wall.
"Xaver," Vitenko screamed.
Lord heard the gait of someone rushing down the hall, then a stump of a man rushed at Orleg. The second of commotion allowed Lord to jam his elbow into Droopy's stomach. The muscles were hard and flat, but he managed to wedge the point between ribs, then wrench upward.
Droopy's breath left him in a swoosh.
Lord shoved the hand holding the knife away. The big man atop Orleg noticed the attack and turned his attention to Droopy, leaping onto the Russian.
Lord lunged toward the outer door. Vitenko momentarily interfered with Orleg, which allowed Lord to leap out under the porte cochere harboring the idling vehicle. He saw no one in the car and jumped into the front seat. He rammed the gearshift into drive and plunged the accelerator to the floorboard. Tires grabbed pavement and the car rocked forward, the rear door slamming shut.
Ahead loomed an open iron gate.
He raced through.
Out in the street, he wheeled right and roared off.
"Enough," Hayes said.
Droopy, Orleg, Vitenko, and the aide stopped their tussle.
Maxim Zubarev stood beside Hayes in the corridor. "Good show, gentlemen."
"Now," Hayes said. "Let's go track that motherfucker and find out what this is all about."
THIRTY-NINE
Lord swung the car around another corner, then slowed. In the rearview mirror he noticed no cars following, and the last thing he needed was to attract the attention of the police. The dashboard clock glowed five thirty. He still had half an hour to make the rendezvous. He was trying to remember the local geography. The zoo was south of town center, adjacent to the ocean, near San Francisco State University. Lake Merced was nearby. On an earlier trip, he'd fished there for trout.
That seemed like an eternity ago. Back when he was just an associate in a huge law firm, nobody beyond his secretary and supervising attorney caring what he did. Hard to believe all this had started just a week ago after a simple lunch in a Moscow restaurant. Artemy Bely had insisted on paying the tab, saying the next day's meal would be on Lord. He'd allowed the courtesy, knowing the Russian lawyer made less in a year than he did in three months. He'd liked Bely, a seemingly knowledgeable, easygoing young man. Yet all he now remembered was the image of Bely's bullet-ridden corpse, lying on the sidewalk, Orleg telling him there were too many dead to bother covering them.
The bastard.
He turned at the next intersection and headed south, away from the Golden Gate Bridge, toward the ocean side of the peninsula. It helped when signs started appearing for the zoo, and he followed them through evening traffic. Soon he left the congestion of commercialism behind for the quiet hills and trees of St. Francis Wood, the villas set back from the road, most with iron gates and fountains.
He was amazed that he was even able to drive, but a rush of adrenaline surging through him had charged his senses. His muscles still ached from the electricity and he was winded from repeated strangulations, but he was starting to feel alive again.
"Just let Akilina be there, waiting," he whispered.
He found the zoo and motor
ed into a lighted parking lot. He left the keys in the sedan and trotted to the admission gate where he paid for a ticket, the attendant warning him that the park would be closing in little more than an hour.
The front of his sweater was wet from Orleg's dousing, the bloodied green wool carrying the feel of a damp towel in the chilly evening air. His face ached from the blows, and surely some swelling had contorted his features. He was probably quite a sight.
He trotted down the concrete walkway, amber lights illuminating the way. A few visitors milled about, several more strolling in the opposite direction back toward the exit. He passed a primate center and elephant exhibit and followed direction signs to the Lion House.
His watch read six PM.
Darkness was starting to conquer the sky. Only the sounds of animals muted by thick walls disturbed an otherwise peaceful scene. The air smelled of fur and food. He entered the Lion House through a set of double glass doors.
Akilina stood before a pacing tiger. He sympathized with the animal trapped in a cage--exactly where he'd been the entire afternoon.
Her face reflected relief and joy. She rushed toward him and they hugged, her grip desperately tight. He held her as she trembled.
"I was just about to leave," she said. Her hand gently traced his swollen jaw and bruised eye. "What happened?"
"Orleg and one of the men who's been after me are here."
"I heard you scream through the phone." She told him about her call and the man she'd talked with.
"The Russian in charge called himself Zubarev. There must be others at the consulate helping them besides Vitenko. But I don't think Vitenko is one of them. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here." He told her what had happened just a few minutes before. "I checked all the way here, but nobody was behind me." He noticed the bag slung over her shoulder. "What's that?"
"I didn't want to trust these things to the hotel. Better to keep everything with me."
He decided not to argue about her foolishness. "We're getting out of here. As soon as we're safe, I'm calling Taylor Hayes and getting some help. This is way out of control."
"I'm glad you are okay."
He suddenly realized they were still in each other's arms and drew back to look at her.
"It's okay," she said softly.
"What do you mean?"
"You can kiss me."
"How do you know I want to?"
"I just do."
He touched his lips to hers, then pulled away. "This is really strange."
One of the cats across the viewing chamber suddenly roared.
"Think they approve?" he said, a smile creeping onto his face.
"Do you?" she asked.
"Very much. But we need to get out of here. I used one of their cars to get across town. Probably not a good idea to use it again. They might report it stolen and involve the local police. We'll get a cab. I noticed a few parked out front when I came in. We'll go back to the hotel you found and in the morning find a rental car. I don't think we need to be using the local airport or bus stations."
He slipped the bag off her shoulder and draped it onto his, feeling the weight of the two gold bars. He took her by the arm and they headed out of the Lion House, past a group of teenagers ambling in for a last look.
A hundred yards away, under one of the lights illuminating the walkways, he caught a glimpse of Orleg and Droopy racing his way.
Mother of God. How had they found him?
He grabbed Akilina and they bolted in the opposite direction, past the Lion House, toward a lit building labeled PRIMATE DISCOVERY CENTER. Monkeys screeched from their outdoor habitats. They followed the paved path deeper into the complex, then made a sharp left. Before them was a lighted naturalistic setting of trees and rocks, a deep moat separating a concrete retaining wall from an open enclosure beyond. Gorillas lumbered about in a forestlike setting, a couple of adults and three babies.
Still running, it took Lord only an instant to register the fork in the path ahead and the fact that the concrete walk apparently encircled the exhibit, making a teardrop-shaped loop that both began and ended before him. A high fence ran the length of the property to his left, and beyond to the right was an open area designated MUSK OXEN EXHIBIT. About ten people were intently watching the gorillas feeding on a huge pile of fruit in the middle of the habitat.
"There's nowhere to go," he said, desperation in his voice.
He needed to do something.
Then, in the far rock wall of the gorilla exhibit he spotted an open iron gate. He studied the animals and the portal. Perhaps it was where the beasts ventured at night. Maybe they could get there and close the gate before the gorillas became interested.
Anything was preferable to the alternative. Orleg and Droopy were racing toward them. He knew what that sadistic pair were capable of and decided to take his chances with the apes. Through the open portal in the rock wall he spied a door with lights. There was movement inside. Perhaps an attendant.
And maybe a way out.
He hurled the travel bag through the air into the ape exhibit. The bundle landed hard near a pile of fruit. The gorillas reacted to the intruder with a vocal start, then moved forward to investigate.
"Come on."
He hopped onto the retaining wall. The other visitors gave him a strange look. Akilina followed. The distance across the moat was about ten feet. The wall itself was about a foot wide. With a running start he leaped forward, propelling his stocky frame through the air and praying he hit solid earth on the other side.
He did, pounding the ground, pain searing up through his sore legs and thighs. He rolled once and looked back just as Akilina landed on her feet.
Droopy and Orleg appeared at the retaining wall.
He was counting on the fact they wouldn't follow or use weapons with people around. Several of the spectators cried out and he heard one of them scream for the police.
Droopy leaped onto the wall. He was about to jump when one of the adult gorillas raced forward to the edge of the moat. The animal raised up on its hind legs and bellowed. Droopy retreated.
Lord scrambled to his feet and motioned for Akilina to head for the gate. The other adult gorilla lumbered his way. The massive animal waddled on all fours, soles and knuckles skipping off the hard ground. From the size and manner, Lord reasoned this was a male. The fur was a satiny brown-gray highlighted by jet-black skin on the chest, palms, and face, a silver saddle decorating his back. The animal stood upright, his nostrils flaring, broad chest extended, bulky arms waving. The ape let out a roar and Lord stood perfectly still.
The smaller gorilla, more reddish brown, apparently a female, moved toward Akilina and was now challenging her. Lord wanted to help but had problems of his own. He hoped everything he'd ever seen on the Discovery Channel about gorillas was true. They were supposedly more bark than bite, the physical display an attempt to generate some reaction in their opponent, perhaps enough to scare him away, or at least to distract.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Orleg and Droopy watching, then saw as they headed back from where they came. Perhaps the attention was becoming a bit much.
Not only did Lord not want another meeting with his Russian pursuers, but he didn't want to have to explain any of this to the local police--at least not yet--and surely they'd been called.
He needed to get to the portal. But the big male standing before him started pounding his chest.
The female concerned with Akilina started to back away, and Akilina used the moment to inch toward him. Suddenly the female surged forward and Akilina reacted, vaulting toward the outstretched limb of one of the poplars that dotted the habitat. She quickly rolled up onto the limb, her acrobatic grace obvious as she leaped to a higher branch. The female ape seemed almost astonished by the move and started her own climb. Lord noticed that the female's face had softened. It was almost as if the ape thought the whole thing play. The trees dotting the enclosure were heavily intertwined, surely an effort to provi
de the animals with a more natural habitat, but what it did now was provide Akilina a way to avoid her pursuer.
The male before him stopped pounding his chest and hinged down on all fours.
From behind, a female voice whispered, "Whoever you are, I'm the tender of this exhibit. I would strongly suggest you stand perfectly still."
"I can assure you, I'm not moving," he said in his own low voice.
The ape's gaze stayed tight, the head cocked at a curious angle.
"I'm inside the rock wall. Beyond the open gate," the disembodied voice said. "They come in here for the night. But they won't bother until all the food's gone. You've got King Arthur there. He's not overly friendly. I'll try to distract him while you make your way inside."
"My friend out here has her own problems," he said.
"I see that. But we'll take it one at a time."
King Arthur slowly backed away, toward the travel bag. Lord could not leave without the bag. He eased toward it. The ape rushed forward and screeched, as if commanding him to stay still.
He obeyed.
"Don't challenge him," the voice said.
The gorilla bared his canines. Lord harbored no desire to feel their effects. He watched as Akilina and the female ape vied with each other through the branches. Akilina did not appear to be in any danger, staying outside the reach of the animal, winding herself up, then down over a thick branch, landing square on the ground. The female tried to mimic the action, but her great bulk drew her downward in a swinging arc and she slammed to the earth. Akilina used the moment to rush into the portal.
Now it was his turn.
King Arthur jerked up the travel bag and fumbled with it in an attempt to see what was inside. Lord moved to grab it, hoping he might be quick enough to snatch the satchel and make it into the opening. But King Arthur was quick, too. The ape's arm swept up and a hand grabbed a bundle of his sweater. The gorilla now had him in his grasp and he tried to fall back. The ape, though, did not relinquish his grip and the sweater slowly tore from his chest. King Arthur stood with the travel bag in one hand, sweater in the other.
