Charm School v1_0

by Nelson DeMille

  “Estonian.”

  “Then speak Estonian. I know a few words.”

  “All right.” Still looking at Filenko, Alevy said in English, “Bert, count of three… One, two—”

  The door opened again, but Filenko kept his eyes on Alevy and Mills as he called out, “Ivan, did you—?”

  Suddenly Filenko's body lurched twice, then he dropped his rifle and sank to the ground, his hands clamped to his side.

  Hollis ran down the ramp as Alevy and Mills stood. Mills grabbed Filenko's rifle, and Alevy said to Hollis, “One of them went inside—”

  “He's out.”

  “Good. Let's get these two inside.”

  Hollis saw that Filenko was still alive, lying on his back now, his eyes following the three of them as they spoke. Hollis went to the semiconscious woman who was moaning on the cold pavement and knelt beside her. “Jane Landis…”

  Alevy asked, “You know her?”

  “Yes. This is the wife of the man you met—Tim Landis. Did you shoot her?” He stared at Alevy.

  Alevy said, “She was in the sack with the sergeant of the guard.”

  “No…”

  “Yes.”

  “She was very anti-Soviet.”

  “Not when I saw her.”

  “She may have been spying on them.”

  “Or for them,” Alevy observed.

  “Maybe she was doing it to help her husband… I don't know.”

  “Neither do I, Sam.”

  Hollis looked at Jane Landis, who stared back at him. She moved her mouth to speak. “Sam… help me.”

  Mills cleared his throat and said, “My God, I'm sorry.” Alevy said, “It doesn't matter. Move her inside.” As Hollis took her in his arms, Alevy asked him, “What's that thing over there, Sam?”

  Hollis replied, “That is how Dodson got out. I think that's how Burov was going to execute Dodson and ten others tomorrow morning.”

  Mills exclaimed, “Jesus Christ!” Alevy nodded. “I want this guy.”

  Hollis put Jane Landis over his shoulder and carried her up the ramp. Mills and Alevy followed, dragging Filenko by his arms into the headquarters building.

  They turned into the narrow corridor of cells and pulled Filenko into one and bolted it.

  Alevy said to Hollis, “You have to lock her up, Sam. I don't know who she is, and I don't care.”

  “She's dying, Seth.”

  “I don't care” Alevy opened the cell door. “In there.” Reluctantly Hollis placed Jane Landis on the cold floor and knelt beside her.

  “Don't leave me, Sam.”

  Hollis wanted to ask her for an explanation, but thought that Jane Landis, or whatever her name had once been, was as multi-layered as a matrushka stacking doll, a shell within a shell, within a shell—each real, each hollow, each neatly embodied within the next.

  Alevy put his hand on Hollis' shoulder, and Hollis stood and looked around the cell. “This was where they had me. Lisa was next door.”

  Alevy made no comment.

  Hollis left the cell, and Alevy shut and bolted the door. He said to Hollis, “If she lives, she'll be included in the swap.”

  Hollis doubted that on both counts.

  Mills said to Hollis, “Thanks for coming to look for us.”

  Alevy, who didn't seem as appreciative, said, “We should try to stick to our prearranged plans when we agree to them.”

  Hollis asked, “Did you plan to have those guys get the drop on you?”

  Alevy said to Mills, “Go back to the commo room. Call Brennan one more time, then jam the radios and destroy the switchboard. Sam, you come with me, and we'll get the Zil and bring it around front. Let's move.”

  Hollis and Alevy moved quickly toward the rear of the building, guns drawn. They opened the back door and saw the Zil parked on the concrete under the glare of the light. Alevy said, “I'll go first. Cover.” He ran to the Zil and jumped into the driver's seat. Like most military vehicles, the Zil had a keyless ignition, and Alevy pushed the starter button. The engine caught on the first try. Hollis jumped in beside him, and Alevy threw the floor shift into gear, then drove around the building. Alevy said, “I don't want you or Lisa to question my handling of this operation.”

  “I think it's your sanity we're questioning.”

  Alevy glanced at Hollis. “I know what I'm doing, Sam.”

  “I know what you're doing too. Do it without me.”

  “Then go. I don't need either of you.”

  “I'll go if you let me take Mills. He doesn't deserve to die for your immortality.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “About you getting a chapter in the secret histories of Langley and Lubyanka.”

  Alevy replied, You think you have me figured out, don't you?

  “I'm getting close.”

  “Well, I'm not suicidal. I'd like to be in London tomorrow.”

  Hollis didn't reply.

  Mills moved quickly through the lobby, unbolted the front doors, then approached the commo room. He stood to the side of the door and said softly, “Lisa, it's Bert Mills.”

  “Okay, Bert.”

  Mills entered the commo room and closed the door.

  “Where's Sam?” she asked. “He was out in the lobby—”

  “With Seth. They're bringing a vehicle around front.”

  Lisa nodded.

  Mills noticed Dodson laid out on the floor near the two dead Border Guards. He knelt beside Dodson and looked at his battered face. “My God…” He checked his pulse. “He's alive.” He looked at Lisa. “I understand why Sam wants to take him, Lisa, but this guy is a burden that we don't need.”

  Lisa replied, “Nevertheless, if Sam wants him out, that's what we will do.”

  Mills glanced at her, then shrugged and stood.

  “What took you so long back there?”

  “We ran into a few things,” he answered without mentioning Jane Landis. “Everything is all right.”

  She looked at him and said, “Bert… all this killing… it's making me sick to my stomach.”

  “We'll talk about it when we're out of reach of the KGB. They make me sick to my stomach.”

  She nodded.

  Mills went to the switchboard and put the headset on, then pushed the ringer.

  A voice came through the earpiece. “Da. Nechevo.”

  “Bill, it's Bert Mills.”

  “Oh… everything okay?”

  “So far. How about there?”

  “I don't know…”

  “What's the problem?”

  “Well, one of the watchtowers turned its spotlight on our chopper for a few seconds. Probably got O'Shea a little nervous. But nothing came of it. I still have radio traffic, but it's still Greek to me.”

  “Give me the frequencies on the radios.”

  “Hold on.” Brennan came back a few seconds later and gave Mills the frequencies. “They're quiet now.”

  Mills checked the corresponding radio on the counter and found the frequencies were the same, “Okay, Bill, I'm going to jam both radios, and you do the same. Then I'm going to destroy the switchboard, so this is a final sign-off. We'll see you later. Stay awake.”

  Brennan chuckled. “Da.”

  Mills aimed his automatic at the switchboard and fired into the connectors. Sparks flew, and the smell of burning insulation filled the room. He went to the two radios, which were crackling, and turned up the volume on both of them. He asked Lisa, “What's he saying?”

  Lisa listened at the speaker of the shortwave radio as a voice spoke in Russian. Lisa said, Someone identifying themselves as 'Tower One' calling the helipad.

  “That's what I was afraid of.”

  Mills reached in his pocket and took the roll of tape he'd used to change the helicopter's identification number. He taped the transmit keys down on both handsets.

  Lisa asked, “The radios are jammed now?” “Only on those frequencies.” He studied both radios, then pointed to a metal nameplate
. “What's that say?”

  She read the plate. “Auto search… something like that.”

  “That's it.” He turned on the toggle switch above the name-plate, and the frequency dial began scanning the band. Mills said, “That's used to pick up the strongest transmissions in the area, like a car radio scanner. But when the mike is continuously keyed, the radio becomes a broadband jamming device.” Mills did the same to the shortwave radio. “This will play havoc with their radio traffic.”

  “But it might also alert them that something is wrong,” Lisa said.

  Mills had the uneasy feeling that KGB Border Guard detachment already suspected that. “We're nearly done here.”

  “Are we?”

  “Well, almost nearly.” Mills glanced at his watch, then at Lisa.

  Neither spoke.

  Hollis and Alevy parked the Zil in front of the headquarters building and entered the lobby. Alevy called into the commo room, “Coming in.” Alevy and Hollis entered the commo room, and Lisa ran into Hollis' arms.

  Alevy knelt beside Dodson and looked him over. His warm-up suit was ripped and stained with blood. His body was filthy, and his hair was matted. Dodson's unshaven face was bruised and puffy, and his nose looked broken. Alevy pushed back Dodson's eyelids. “Really bad shape.”

  “Obviously,” Hollis replied. “He's been in the open country a couple of weeks, and he's been beaten for a few days. But mostly he's drugged up. He'll be fine. He comes with us.”

  Alevy stood. “All right. Let's go.”

  Lisa asked, “Are we going to the helicopter?”

  “No,” Alevy replied. “We're going to get Burov.”

  “Why, Seth?”

  “Because that's what I came here for.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Is that why you came here?”

  “Well… I came here for you and Sam. But—”

  “Seth, this place is full of Russians” She looked at Hollis. “Sam, how many? Six or seven hundred?”

  Alevy said tersely, “What difference does that make? I don't plan to get into a firefight with them. I just want to be out of here before they wake up. I have no time to argue.” He looked at Lisa. “Why don't you and Sam take Dodson in the vehicle and go to the helipad?”

  Hollis said to Alevy, “We'll stay with you.” He looked at Lisa. “Are you all right?”

  “I'm scared out of my mind.”

  “Well,” Alevy said in an uncharacteristic display of candor, “so am I. So let's get it over with and get home.”

  Mills helped get Dodson on Hollis' back, and they moved quickly through the lobby. Alevy opened the front door and looked out. “Clear.” They rushed down the steps of the headquarters, and Mills dropped the tailgate of the Zil and helped Hollis place Dodson in the space behind the rear seats. Mills got in the vehicle beside Alevy, and Hollis and Lisa jumped into the rear seats. Alevy said, “You two stay low.”

  Hollis and Lisa dropped to the floor as Alevy moved the Zil to the road and turned right toward Burov's dacha.

  * * *

  41

  The Zil-6 moved over the dark road.

  Lisa said from the rear, “Seth, we don't need Burov. Just take another American. General Austin's house is right off this road. You wanted him.”

  “But you wanted Dodson. Only room for one more, and that will be Colonel Petr Burov. Right, Sam?”

  Hollis didn't reply.

  Mills said, “Seth, we got some problems at the helipad.” Mills explained about the spotlight and about the tower trying to raise the helipad radio.

  Alevy stayed silent a moment, then said, “Let's not get jumpy. We're very close to pulling off the snatch operation of the decade. What do you think, Sam?”

  Hollis thought that a reasonable man would have accepted the evidence and concluded that the operation was starting to unravel. Alevy, however, was a driven man, and Hollis did not trust driven men.

  “Sam?”

  “I think we're all living on borrowed time.” Hollis said to Mills, “Bert? What do you say?”

  Mills seemed torn between reason and loyalty to Alevy, which they both knew were mutually exclusive. Mills looked sideways at Alevy. “Seth… we got Sam and Lisa, we got an American… choppers crowded. Maybe it's time to shuffle off.”

  Alevy turned and looked back at Hollis. “Sam, it's your call. Do you want to get Burov yourself, or would you be content to let him live? Maybe tomorrow when he wakes up from the Sandman, he'll murder twenty Americans.”

  Hollis replied curtly, “This isn't a balls contest.”

  “I'm not questioning your nerve. I just want to know if you have any personal scores to settle. In our business, you can let personal considerations help you make an operational decision. Well?”

  Hollis glanced at Lisa, then said to Alevy, “Drive on.”

  Alevy remarked, “I think we have each other figured out.”

  Lisa slumped against the door and stared at Hollis. He stared back. Hollis recalled the trip to Novodevichy Convent, sitting on the floor, with Jane Ellis and Betty Eschman in front. That had been a lark, Hollis thought, compared to this. But this was the inevitable result of what they had begun in Moscow. Lisa kicked his foot and forced a smile. “Novodevichy?”

  He nodded. They had a short but memorable history.

  Hollis said to Alevy, “Keep it at about fifteen K, or you'll attract attention.”

  They continued on, and Alevy navigated a bend in the road, then said, “What the hell is that?”

  Hollis raised himself up and looked out the window. “That's Pine Corners Shopping Plaza. You never saw a shopping plaza before?”

  Mills laughed. “Jesus Christ…”

  Alevy looked up at the camouflage net that blocked the night sky, then cut into the parking lot and drove slowly past the stores and shops. “Seven Eleven?”

  “Mosfilm does the props.”

  “Really?” He looked at each shop window as they drove by, nodding his head several times. “Not bad… do they—?”

  “I'll brief you,” Hollis said curtly, “in London. Let's move it.”

  Suddenly a pair of headlights appeared on the road, and they saw a huge Zil-I3I troop carrier pass the parking lot, heading toward the headquarters building.

  Mills said, “If he stops at headquarters, he's not going to like what he sees there.”

  Alevy hit the accelerator and swung back onto the road, falling in behind the troop carrier. In the canvas-covered rear compartment, Alevy's headlights illuminated about twenty men with AK-47's. Alevy honked his horn and flashed his lights. The carrier's driver put his arm out the window, then stopped the vehicle. The driver got out and walked back toward them. He called out, “Strakhov?”

  Alevy said to Hollis and Lisa, “Stay low.” He opened his door and said to Mills, “Get behind the wheel.” Alevy jumped out and walked toward the driver of the troop carrier, who was shielding his eyes against the glare of the headlights. The driver asked, “Who is that?”

  “Major Voronin.”

  The man snapped to attention and saluted. Alevy asked, “Where are you taking those men?” The driver replied, “To relieve the guard posts.”

  “Which guard posts?”

  “Towers one and two, the main gate, the headquarters, and the helipad, sir. I've just relieved the guards at the dacha.”

  “Colonel Burov's dacha?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How many guards do you mount there?”

  “Three.”

  Alevy glanced at the twenty armed men in the rear of the truck whose heads were turned toward him. Alevy addressed the driver. “The personnel in the headquarters and the helipad have two more hours punishment duty for sloppy attitudes.”

  “Yes, sir. By whose authority, Major?”

  “Mine, Corporal. Go directly to the towers and the main gate, then bring the rest of your men back to the guard house.”

  “The barracks, sir.”

  “Yes, the barracks.” Alevy felt a bead of sweat f
orm under his cap and roll down his forehead. “Dismissed.”

  The driver hesitated, then saluted and turned on his heel.

  Alevy walked back to the Zil and got into the passenger side. “Turn it around, Bert.”

  Mills had trouble finding reverse, then got it into gear, and the Zil stalled. “Damn it!” The big troop carrier sat on the road in front of them. Mills restarted his vehicle and made a choppy three-point turn on the narrow road as the troop carrier moved off slowly. No one spoke. Mills got the Zil moving back down the road toward Burov's dacha. He said softly, “I don't drive Russian”

  Hollis said to Alevy, “I heard most of that, and I don't think he completely bought it.”

  “You don't understand the Russian mind.”

  “I understand the military mind. Men will take orders from their own officers, but not necessarily from an officer they don't recognize.”

  “I seem to be doing all right.” Alevy asked, “Do you want to turn back or go on?”

  Hollis replied, “Go on.”

  Lisa made a sound of exasperation. She said to Mills, “Please, Bert, can't you reason with these two?”

  Mills thought a moment, then replied, “No.”

  A minute later, Alevy asked, “Is that the dacha's guard booth ahead?”

  Hollis peered out the windshield. “That's it. The dacha is surrounded by barbed wire. Dogs run loose between the wire and the house. There should be two KGB at the guard booth and one inside the dacha itself. But you never know.”

  “That driver confirmed three.” Alevy said to Mills, “You take the guard that approaches, I've got the other one.”

  “Right.”

  “Down in back.”

  Mills slowed the vehicle and drew closer to the guard booth. Alevy looked past the gate at the rather plain-looking dacha sitting in darkness about a hundred meters away. Mills brought the Zil to a bucking halt, and it stalled. He started it again. “I never got the hang of a stick shift.” He drew his pistol and held it in his lap.

  One of the guards walked up to the driver's side and looked in the open window. “Yes, Captain?”

  Mills pumped a single shot between the man's eyes as Alevy opened his door and stood on the running board. The second guard was still in the small booth, and Alevy could see him furiously cranking the field phone as he reached for his rifle. Alevy steadied his aim over the roof of the Zil and fired all eight rounds from his pistol into the booth. The glass and wood splintered, and the man dropped to the floor.