Good thing. Wouldn't want to end up like the Cobras."Amy couldn't help thinking Dan had fallen under the spell of a Visa gold card pretty quickly."Dan, look at this. She's got messages."The voice mail light blinked green on Nellie's phone. Amy pressed the RETRIEVE button and activated the tiny speakerphone."You have seven new messages," a female voice offered.
Amy pressed the 7 key and the first message came through, although it was a bad connection and they couldn't catch the entire thing."If you guys ... CALL ME! It's taking a long ... get those doughnuts. The hotel number is ..." The message crackled so badly at the end they couldn't decipher the rest.
Five more messages were of equally lousy quality, all from Nellie, her voice becoming more concerned with each effort to reach them."She's going to kill us," said Dan.
"You got that right," Amy agreed.She clicked to retrieve the last message. It wasn't from Nellie."Call in for a status report," said a man's whispery voice.
"We haven't heard from you."Dan and Amy stared at each other."Do you know who that was?" asked Amy.
"It's not a voice I've ever heard, have you?""No," Dan said, and shook his head hard, as if trying to knock a bad thought out of it.
They stared at each other for a second, and then Amy deliberately changed the subject."I hope Nellie is okay. I'm worried about her.""I wonder how Saladin is doing," said Dan, a glint of concern rising in his voice.
"Let's e-mail her instead of calling," said Amy. "Just let her know we're okay. That way we don't have to worry about her freaking out on us. I'm not sure I could handle that right now.""And we'll tell her to take good care of Saladin," said Dan.
They jumped online and found a string of e-mails from Nellie that sounded a lot like the phone messages she'd left.
She was careful to let them know that Saladin was doing just fine, dining on fresh fish from a Cairo marketplace and taking long naps in the hotel room."You see there?" said Amy. "Saladin is doing great." Amy took the laptop and banged out a short message.
Dear Nellie, We stumbled onto a trail we couldn't turn back from. Before we knew it, we were on our way out of Cairo and into Russia.
It all happened really fast. We know you probably can't come get us, but don't worry-- we're okay.
No problems so far. Please take good care of Saladin. We promise to check back in tomorrow morning. Please don't worry-- we're fine! Amy and Dan."How's that?" asked Amy."I think it'll do the trick.
Send it."Amy clicked the SEND button. At least Nellie would know they weren't dead."We should send something to Hamilton, too, don't you think?" asked Dan.Amy had almost forgotten.
Of course! The trail led into Siberia next, right where Hamilton Holt would arrive by early morning on the Trans-Siberian Railway. She started typing out a message as Dan retrieved Hamilton's e-mail address from their backpack.
Hamilton - Your tarn. We've found the next item and it leads right to where you're going. When you get to Omsk, look for a statue of Dostoevsky. He's a famous Russian writer, so if you ask around you shouldn't have any trouble locating him. Here's the important thing: You have to figure out what Dostoevsky is looking at. Follow his eyes. Whatever he's staring at is the next thing on our hunt. Our guess is it will lead back toward us. Let's stay ahead of the competition!
Call our cell when you figure this out. Amy and Dan."It's ringing," said Dan. Nellie's phone was vibrating softly on the carpeted floor.
Dan looked at the screen."It must be Nellie. She must have been sitting by a computer just waiting for us to contact her. That's good, right?"
But Amy wasn't so sure. She was exhausted, and the man's whispering voice from Nellie's phone seemed to reach for her. Call in for a status report. We haven't heard from you."Let it ring," she said. "Let's get some sleep."* * *
When Dan woke up, Amy was gone. For a split second he freaked out, running back and forth between rooms until he saw the note stuck to the post of his bed.
Gone out to find us some new clothes in the hotel lobby.
Ours are getting gross. Back in a flash. Order breakfast, sleepyhead.Dan breathed a huge sigh of relief. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was already after nine in the morning. He did a quick mental calculation.
If NRR was to be trusted, they only had ten hours left before "the room" would close, whatever that meant.
By the time Amy returned from the lobby carrying two shopping bags, Dan had already taken a shower and called in a colossal order from room service. He emerged from the bathroom in a fog of steam, wearing a plush white bathrobe and slippers."Just once we should get to keep these," said Dan.
His words were garbled with foam as he brushed his teeth with a complimentary toothbrush."If only we had room in our backpack. See if Hamilton Holt sent us an e-mail.""You mean Hamilton Dolt, don't you?" Dan laughed."Well, we're stuck with him now," said Amy, digging into the bags in search of something to wear.
"Better make the best of it."Dan tossed his toothbrush into the sink and joined Amy at the bags of clothes."They've got some nice stores down there. I charged it all to the room." Amy grinned. "I'm starting to get the hang of this."
Everything from new underwear to jeans and shirts came tumbling out of the bags. They retreated to their own rooms, dressed quickly, and met at the entrance to the suite as room service arrived.
"You get the laptop," said Dan, "I'll get the food."They devoured piles of steaming hot pancakes with cups of hot chocolate, and a feeling of good fortune rolled over them. They were well rested, well fed, newly clothed.
Could they be any more ready for ten hours of adventure? While they ate, Dan checked their e-mail. He laughed so hard a chunk of pancake shot out of his mouth and landed on Amy's plate."Gross!" she yelled, but she laughed, too.
She flicked the chewed-up gob of pancake onto the table and asked Dan what was so funny.
"We got an e-mail from Hamilton. Check this out."Dan slid the laptop over where Amy could see the screen. There was a picture of the Holts standing in front of the Omsk train station.
They were all wearing gigantic parkas and grinning from ear to ear. They looked like an oversize team of gymnasts about to hit the slopes in the dead of winter-- except the sun was shining and everyone else around them was dressed in thin sweaters. Below the picture was Hamilton's reply to their e-mail of the night before:
My mom made us pat these stupid things on for a family picture. She said it would make the perfect Christmas card. Whatever. Not exactly cold in Siberia this time of year, so we ditched the jackets. Dad's off looking for meat pies, Mom and the twins are looking for a bathroom.
I just got service on my laptop again-spotty out here in the tundra, har-har, But I got your message.
I'm at an Internet cafe. Had no trouble getting directions to this Dostrovinsky statue. Dude's got a weird name, But that helped, Because someone
here at the cafe already told me where to find it. Lucky me, it's right around the corner. I'll check out where the guy is looking and get right back to you. Cell phone service is choppy,
But I might get a bar or two once I'm out in the open air again. On the hunt --Hammer."Hammer?" said Dan. "He's kidding, right?"
"It must be a family nickname."Dan stuffed a wad of pancake in his mouth and held his fork high in the air."Beware fellow contestants the Hammer is on the case!"They were both giggling when they heard Nellie's phone vibrating again.
"I think we better answer it this time," said Dan, all the wind gone out of his sails.Amy walked to the phone and picked it up. Unknown caller ID.
She decided it was time to do some talking."Hello?" said Amy, picking up the phone."Amy? Is that you, Amy?"
Nellie's excited voice flooded across the line. She sounded overjoyed."It's me, we're okay!" said Amy."Yes, yes, YES! Is Dan there? IS HE SAFE?""Dan's okay, as long as he doesn't explode from eating too many pancakes."
"I was worried SICK about you two," said Nellie. "And Saladin won't stop crying. He misses you guys. Russia? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! How COULD you let this
happen?""How's Saladin?" asked Dan.
Amy waved him off as Nellie continued to rant."I don't know what's gotten into you two! STAY PUT until I get there.
I've already grabbed a flight to Moscow. Where are you exactly?"Amy tried to do the math in her head... Moscow to St. Petersburg ... probably an overnight train. It was a long time to wait."We're in St. Petersburg, but we have to keep moving, Nellie," said Amy. "This hunt we're on is time sensitive. I don't think we can sit here and do nothing all day."Another call was trying to break in. It was Hamilton Holt.
"Listen, Nellie, I've got to go.
Come to Moscow and we'll call you as soon as we can. Hold tight.""NO WAY! Stay where you a-"Amy clicked the phone and switched calls. Hamilton started yelling into the phone so loudly Dan could hear it from across the room."I see it! I see what that author dude is staring at!"
"Good job, Hamilton! What is it? What's he looking at?"Dan sidled up next to Amy so he could listen in."Dad! I got this!"It sounded like Eisenhower Holt was trying to grab the phone. Amy heard Mary-Todd yell something in the background."Hey! Let go of that parka!"Reagan and Madison were howling somewhere close by."He's looking at the ground!" Hamilton yelled.
"It's all bricks, and one of them says something on it. It says-- ""Hamilton? What's it say?""It says 'Alexei's Playroom,' and there's a little symbol here, looks like a six-sided gem."
"You didn't tell the Kabras, did you?""Those losers? No way," said Hamilton."Great job, Hamilton! You did it! Um ... await further instructions.""You got it... Dad! Yo, Dad! This is getting WAY out of hand. Hammer Holt, signing off!"
The phone went dead and Amy raced across the room for the Russian guidebook."This confirms my suspicions," said Amy, riffling through pages, searching, searching, searching....She lifted gleaming eyes to Dan. "Get the backpack. We've got a royal village to visit!"
CHAPTER 8
Amy Cahill had been ripped off, bugged, double-crossed, and taken advantage of one too many times.
She was through with taking taxicabs."I have a better idea," said Dan. He put his beatnik goatee and mustache on and walked right up to the hotel bank, flashing a smile along with his passport and Visa gold card."I need a cash advance. Can you dig it?"
Amy had to stifle a laugh. Did Dan actually think he was going to get real money with a line like that?"We have fee of one thousand rubles on American cards," said the teller. One thousand rubles was about thirty bucks, which sounded like a lot of money to Amy.
Then again, it was NRR's money, not hers, and they'd just racked up more than $2,000 on their bill.
"That'll be fine," Dan replied. "And, ah, tip yourself another thousand while you're at it. I'll take a hundred thousand for myself if the card will hold it. Been spending like a sailor on leave. I must be getting close to the limit on that thing."
Dan laughed as if he didn't really care, but Amy knew better. They'd had to count every penny back home."Ahhh, is good for you," said the man, suddenly Dan's best friend. "In American dollars you have balance of six thousand. The card has forty-four thousand unused. But you know the limits of your own credit, of course."
"FORTY-FOUR THOUSAND!" Dan choked back a cough of surprise, then asked for an additional 100,000 rubles, just in case.
He leaned in close to Amy and whispered, "If rubles are anything like marbles, my backpack is going to be really heavy."The teller counted out the bills. The stack, amounting to about 7,500 American dollars, was so tall it teetered back and forth as he reached the final 1,000.
Dan's eyes got huge and he tipped the teller another 1,000."Very kind, sir, very generous. Thank you! I wish you and your young friend a good day."Amy's jaw dropped as she realized that in disguise, Dan probably looked a lot older than she did."He's not older than me!" she said without thinking.
Dan smirked and leaned in close to the teller. "You know how sensitive little sisters can be. She's impossible.""Keep it up, buddy," Amy said under her breath, "and I'll tear that fake mustache right off your dumb face."
As soon as they got out of the lobby and into the street, Amy hammered Dan with questions. "What in the world do you want with all that money?""I got a plan," said Dan."A plan? You're eating way too much candy and it's turning your head fizzy." Carrying around gobs of money made her nervous.
"There, that looks like the perfect fit for our needs," said Dan.Dan was watching a middle-aged man get out of a car. It was the smallest car Amy had ever seen, more like a go-cart, really.
And it was blue, which made Amy nervous. Blue was Dan's favorite color."Time to start my car collection!" said Dan.
"Come on. This is going to be awesome.""You're so much dumber than I thought," Amy groaned. "And that's saying something. Do you remember that neither one of us knows how to drive?"But Dan bolted across the street and hailed the man.
The guy was bald as a potato, with stains on his tie and an attitude of being late for something important.
"How much for the car?" asked Dan. "I'm in a rush and I've got cash."The man glanced at Dan, saw how small he was, and let out a sharp hoot of a laugh. "Stupid Americans! Go home!"
"See this backpack?" Dan said, trailing after him. "It's full of cash! I'm serious here!"
The man couldn't seem to help himself and turned back.
"How much in rucksack? Tiny Tim not cheap," he said.
Tiny Tim?! thought Amy. "Wait a sec-- "
"Enough," said Dan, talking over her. "I'll give you, um, let's see ... how about twenty thousand rubles for it?"Amy coughed up a weird yelping sound, as if there were a hair ball stuck in her throat.
The idea of spending twenty thousand anything was outrageous."Thirty," said the man, fiddling with his tie and looking at Dan sideways.Dan hauled bills out of the backpack."You know how to drive Russian car?" asked the man, beaming. "I show you!"Dan beamed right back. "You got yourself a deal.
"A few minutes later, the potato-headed man had taken his thirty thousand rubles, happy as a clam, and given Dan and Amy a five-minute tour of Tiny Tim. It wasn't much bigger than a refrigerator, and it only had two gears: slow and fast."Leave stick up until Tiny is twenty-five, then slam it down, like so."
The man grabbed the stick shift and yanked it back about a foot. "No ... how you say ... clatch?""Clutch," corrected Amy, sounding more interested in Tiny Tim."Little sister is rude," said the man.
"You said it," offered Dan, running his fingers through the fake goatee. Amy thought she might explode.The man pointed to the pedals on the floor in front of the driver's seat. "That is brake, that is gas. Easy!"
"Seems simple enough," said Dan. Amy still couldn't believe they'd just bought a go-cart masquerading as an automobile."I am late," said the man, patting his pocket to make sure the money was still there.
"Be careful. Tiny is faster than he looks. He will make man out of you. Da svidanya!"
"Dude, I'm so driving this thing," said Dan. Amy gritted her teeth. She hated it when he called her dude. It made absolutely no sense.
Dan grinned. "We've got a boatload of money and our own car! This is incredible.""Yeah," said Amy.
"Incredibly stupid."Dan looked wounded. "It's not stupid.
Every time we use the card, NRR can track us. Now we're like outlaws -- cash only and a cool ride of our own.
Untraceable."Amy had to concede the point, but there was no way she was letting her eleven-year-old brother drive her around Russia."Move over, Richie Rich. I've practically got a learner's permit already. I can do this."
Dan protested until his mustache fell off, but Amy wasn't budging. She settled into the driver's seat, her nerves starting to get the best of her.Dan hopped back on the offensive. "You absolutely sure you can do this? I've got experience on the streets of Russia. Maybe you should let the exp-- "
"Just stop talking and let me concentrate, will you?""Oh, yeah, you sound really ready to drive," said Dan, strapping a tattered old seat belt across his waist.That did it. Amy had had enough.
She turned the key and the tailpipe coughed out
a plume of smoke. The engine rumbled and popped as if it wanted nothing more than to race through traffic."Okay," said Amy, taking a deep breath and setting her foot on the pedal. "Here goes thirty thousand rubles.
"Tiny Tim lurched along the side of the road doing about three miles an hour until Amy caught the hang of it and sped up to ten. Pretty soon she was doing twenty."You like Tiny Tim, don't you?" said Dan. "Come on, let me drive it. Please?"
"Eat your heart out, dude," said Amy. "Just keep the directions coming and don't distract me."Dan grumbled, but he found the dog-eared map of St. Pete in the guidebook. A smile bloomed on Amy's face. When the speedometer hit 25, she slammed the stick shift down and Tiny Tim lurched forward with a sharp buzzing sound."Wow! He's got some giddyup!" said Amy.
Tiny Tim swerved back and forth as Amy tried to find the brake pedal."Amy," said Dan.
"You see the telephone pole, right? AMY!"Amy jerked the steering wheel hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the sidewalk."C-c-calm down, Tiny Tim!" yelled Amy. She finally found the brake pedal, tapping it softly a few times and bringing the car under control."I think I'm getting the hang of it," she said.
Amy glanced at Dan. He looked as miserable as the time Aunt Beatrice confiscated his nunchucks. But he dutifully gave directions, asking questions as they went."Tell me again why we're going to this village of royals.""The royal village. In Russia they call it Tsarskoye Selo, the Tsar's Village.
It's where the Romanovs went on holiday.""And why do we care about the Romanovs again?" asked Dan."They were the last royal family in Russia. This is the family Rasputin held so much sway over."Amy had settled onto a long highway doing about forty. As they headed for the Tsar's Village, she told Dan all about the last Russian royal family.
How they'd been overthrown and banished to the village. One day they were the most powerful family in Russia, the next they were prisoners. Amy was especially interested in the young grand duchess Anastasia.
Everything Amy had read about her was fantastic. Anastasia was raised as a normal child, not like a royal, and she was exceptionally charming. She was also brilliantly naughty, always playing pranks on her teachers and friends."She liked to play all sorts of tricks, and apparently she was a great climber of tall trees.
The Black Circle - 39 Clues 05 Page 5
