William Ryan - The Twelfth Department

When Kolya saw him, he went on the attack, landing two sharp blows, and Korolev took his cue, racing as silently as he could along the corridor. The giant shrugged off Kolya’s punches and began to turn, but too late—Korolev was already swinging the butt of the Nagant down with every ounce of his strength. For a moment, Korolev thought it hadn’t been enough, but the big man slowly fell to his knees, shaking his head as he did so. He knelt for a moment before trying to stand again. Korolev and Kolya looked at each other, before Korolev, shrugging his shoulders, hit the giant one more time—even harder, if that were possible.

Like a felled tree, the big man quivered for a moment than collapsed to the ground—out for the count, blood pulsing from his injured head.

“What took you so long?” Kolya said, his voice distorted by a fat lip and ragged breath. “I think I broke a finger on that ape’s ear. His ear, mind you, not his jaw or anything solid like that.”

Korolev found he was also out of breath—either from running up the stairs or the adrenaline. He wasn’t sure which.

“If I’d known you were going to go toe-to-toe with this fellow I’d have come earlier, just for the show.”

“Did you get the other guard’s keys?” Kolya asked.

“I have them.”

“There’s a door downstairs we couldn’t open. Mishka found this fellow in there.” Kolya pointed to what seemed to be some kind of an operating room. Korolev stepped inside. A long bed fitted with leather straps stood in the center, its head almost touching a large black machine covered with dials and levers—from which a worrying-looking wire skullcap dangled. Korolev stepped back out to find Kolya helping Mishka to his feet.

“It looks like he found the fellow with his face. Is he all right?”

“What’s it to you?” Mishka growled, holding himself up with one hand against the wall. Then he was sick over his shoes.

“Not too bad then,” Korolev said. “Mishka, keep an eye on your friend here while we check the rest of the floor.”

They moved quickly from room to room, finding another of the strange machines but otherwise nothing. It seemed the giant had been alone on the upper floor. Korolev looked at his watch. They had to get moving.

“What do we do with that lump in the corridor?” Kolya asked, and Korolev, for an answer, pointed to the leather restraining straps on one of the beds.

It took all three of them to drag the giant back into the room he’d emerged from and lift him up on to the bed. They had to pull the straps as tight as they could in order to be able buckle them onto the last notch, so huge was the man’s frame.

Perhaps Mishka’s swearing as he tried to push his nose back into shape but the giant woke just as they’d finished, his eyes meeting Korolev’s for a moment in surprise before they flicked left and right. At the sight of the machine above him however, his eyes went wide with terror and he began to buck and rear on the bed. Even with a gag in place he still managed to make an animal mewling that had the hairs at the back of Korolev’s neck standing to attention.

“What the hell’s up with him?” Mishka asked.

Korolev saw the rubber skullcap that hung down from the machine—a number of small wires dangling from it. On a hunch, he pulled the thing out and held it directly over the man’s head, the wires dangling down to touch his face. The struggling ceased and the giant’s body went rigid. Korolev leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“I have questions for you. Will you answer them?”

The big man nodded and Korolev undid the buckle of the gag. There was silence as he did so and Korolev glanced up to see Kolya watching with interest.

“How many are in the main house?”

“The children?” The man had a voice like pouring gravel.

“Them first.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Where?”

“Upstairs. Two dormitories. At the end of the long corridor.”

“And apart from the children?”

There was a slight hesitation, until Korolev made as if to lower the skull cap.

“Eight guards, four nurses, and a doctor,” the man said in a rush. “The guards sleep on the ground floor. It’s the big room beside the front door. The nurses and the doctor are upstairs. The rooms off the landing.”

“It’s past midnight—who will be up and about?”

“A nurse for the children, the guard who does regular rounds, and the guard at the gate. No more than that.”

“And you? What are you up for? And the nurses downstairs?”

“There’s an operation later—we’re getting ready.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It’s when they do them.”

Korolev wanted to ask why, but he had a more pressing concern.

“There was a boy brought in. Yesterday. Where is he?”

“Blond hair?”

Korolev’s stomach seemed to contract. “Yes.”

“Downstairs.”

“The locked room? Where’s the key?”

Again, hesitation, but Korolev knew how to deal with it now.

“The guard up at the house has it.”

Korolev pulled the keys from his pocket and held them up.

“Which one?”

“The brass one.”

“If you’re lying about any of this…”

“On my mother’s life.”

Korolev looked at the size of the man and pitied the woman who’d had to give birth to him. “If you even think of trying to escape, we’ll make an omelette out of that tiny brain of yours. Just so you know. If you stay where you are—you’ll likely come out of this in one piece.”

Korolev motioned Kolya and Mishka to the door.

“Do we trust him?” Kolya asked, when they were halfway down the stairs.

“Well here’s the first test,” Korolev said and put the key the big man had indicated into the locked door. It opened easily and there Yuri was—backed into a corner of the room, his knees drawn up in front of him, his arms holding them tightly and his terrified face looking in amazement as Korolev ran the three steps to him and swung him up into his arms.

Korolev carried his son as they made their way toward the main house, not because Yuri couldn’t walk but because he wanted to hold the boy tight to him.

“Did they do anything to you?” Korolev asked him in a whisper.

“No. But the red-haired nurse”—Korolev remembered the one, she’d been out for the count in the corridor—“she said they were going to fix me, make me loyal to the State. I kept telling her I was loyal. But she kept saying it all the same.”

“There’s no one more loyal, Yuri,” Korolev said, feeling the boy was rigid with indignation. “The Party knows that.”

“Yes,” Yuri said. “Yes, they do. They know everything.”

God help them both if they did, thought Korolev, and nodded to Slivka as she stepped out of the bushes. Korolev was pleased to see Goldstein and the Deacon had joined her.

“Kim,” he said in a quiet voice. “Take Yuri to the woods. Wait for us there. If there’s a problem, head for the cars and go.”

Goldstein nodded, smiled at Yuri, and held out a hand to show him the way.

“Yuri,” Korolev said, leaning down to place him on the ground, kissing his head as he did so. “We’ll catch up with you as soon as we can—but don’t wait if there’s trouble. Kim will get you to the apartment and I’ll meet you there. Understood?”

Korolev pushed him toward Goldstein and watched until they disappeared into the shrubbery.

They entered the main house through the side door that the guard and the nurse had come out of. They all had their guns out now—six guards could be problematic, and if the giant had been lying and there were more then they really could be in trouble.