David Morrell: The Spy Who Came for Christmas

“ Paul, you’ll spend a month in a Russian prison in Omsk. That’s in Siberia. The official records will indicate that you were a prisoner there for thirteen years. Russian prisons are notoriously overcrowded. The inmates seldom get a chance to mingle. It won’t be suspicious if inquiries are made and none of the prisoners remembers how long you were really there.

“ We’ll put Russian prison tattoos on your chest. Barbed wire with thirteen prongs indicates the number of years you supposedly were in prison. A cat and a spider within a web indicate that you’re a thief. A candlestick indicates that you’re dangerous, that you’re not afraid to put out someone’s light. We’ll give you a blood thinner before you’re tattooed. The increased bleeding will make the tattoos look old and faded.

“ We have a source who’ll teach you details of Omsk at the time you supposedly were taken off the streets. Your story is that you’re an orphan born there, a street kid who moved around a lot, running from the authorities until they put you in prison. Hard to disprove. A month in that prison ought to be enough for you to be able to answer questions about details only someone who served time there could know.

“ After that, we’ve arranged for you to escape and take a black market route out of Russia. You’ll make the traditional criminal pilgrimage to Brighton Beach, where you’ll go through the inevitable rites of passage to be accepted.

“ Paul, you’ve worked undercover before. The drill remains the same. The big difference is that this time you’ll be doing it longer.”

“ And that the people I’m trying to fool are more dangerous. Exactly how much longer is the assignment?”

“ We don’t know. The rumors we’re picking up indicate that something big is set to happen between the Russian mob and Al Qaeda in the next twelve months. Maybe it’s a suitcase bomb the mob took from one of those nuclear bases that were left unguarded when the Soviet Union collapsed. There’s a strong chance you’ll prevent an attack much worse than what happened on 9/11.”

Andrei’s right hand felt cold. Its thin leather glove didn’t provide enough insulation against the grip of his pistol. He pulled his left hand from his ski-jacket pocket, switched the Glock over to it, and shoved his right hand into the jacket, flexing his fingers, warming them.

In the dim illumination from snow-hazed lights, he and his companions followed prints in the snow. They came to a wall.

Andrei aimed to the right, toward a fence and the windowless side of a house. There wasn’t any indication that someone had gone in that direction. He swung to the left toward a walkway between two rows of small buildings. A half-dozen sets of footprints led toward entrances. He hurried along, seeing the prints become fewer and fewer until only one set continued past the buildings.

I’ve almost got you, Andrei thought.

Abruptly, he came to another wall.

Inexplicably, the footprints didn’t turn around. They just ended. Andrei stared at them, mystified. He stepped closer to the wall. It was made of upright boards that looked to be about ten feet high.

Pyotyr, you couldn’t have climbed them, not with one arm wounded, not holding the baby under your coat. So where the hell did you go?

Baffled, Andrei stepped even closer and touched the surface. He exhaled quickly when a board fell away, revealing a low gap that was wide enough for a man to crawl through.

Clever. Are you waiting on the other side, ready to shoot us as we squirm into sight?

The Pakhan’s voice blurted from the earbud under Andrei’s cap. “ Have you found the package? Our clients will be here any moment! Even if I give back the money, they’ll demand someone be punished for failing to deliver what they need. It won’t be me! They’ll hunt you! I’ll help them!”

Crouching, studying the gap in the wall, Andrei murmured to the microphone on his ski jacket. “We’re close,” he lied.

“ You see Pyotyr?”

“ It’s too risky to talk. He’ll hear me.”

“ You govnosos, get the package!”

Andrei felt the insult as he would a slap.

“ Don’t call me that.”

“ I’ll do whatever I want, you incompetent kachok.”

Andrei struggled to keep his fury from distracting him. Chest heaving, he stared toward the gap in the wall. He shifted to the right and left, using various angles to assess the area beyond. The footprints seemed to go straight ahead. But that didn’t prove anything, Andrei knew. Pyotyr might have veered to the side and doubled back to ambush them as they crawled through.

We’re wasting time. My friend, I won’t let you make this even worse for me!

He reached under his ski jacket and pulled the radio transmitter from his belt. It was black plastic, the size of a deck of cards. He switched the dial to the frequency the team had used earlier and listened for some indication of what Pyotyr might be doing. What he heard was deep, fast, labored breathing, the sound of someone on the move.

Then you’re not waiting on the other side, Andrei thought. You made us suspect a trap-to make us stop while you kept going!

Outraged, he squirmed through the gap.

As Mikhail and Yakov followed and spread out, Andrei examined his surroundings, keeping his gun ready. He was in a courtyard, with colorfully lit adobe houses on each side. Bending to examine the footprints, he noted that their stride wasn’t as long. A hint of blood trailed next to them.

Pyotyr, we’ve almost got you.

He spoke into the microphone. “It doesn’t need to be like this, my friend. Return the package. We’ll forgive you.”

Andrei’s earbud was silent.

Then Pyotyr surprised him, replying, “Say it again, this time with conviction.”

“ Ah,” Andrei said to the microphone, all the while following the footprints. “So you’re not too injured to be able to speak. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“ I bet,” Pyotyr said, breathing hard.

“ I meant what I told you. Return what you stole. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll even get you medical attention.”

“ And what about Viktor?” Pyotyr asked. “I killed him. You’re willing to forget that?”

“ He was new. I hardly spent any time with him.”

“ Your loyalty’s touching.”

“ You have the jaitsa to talk to me about loyalty?”

“ I made you look bad in front of the Pakhan. I apologize.”

“ Prove it. Return the package.”

Pyotyr didn’t answer. All Andrei heard was the sound of his forced breathing.

“ You know we’ll catch you,” Andrei said.

“ You can try.”

“ Listen to reason. You’re losing strength. There’s only one way this can end. Save yourself more pain. Surrender the child.”

“ And everything will be like it was before?”

“ I’ll let you go. You have my word.”

“ Of course.” Pyotyr’s labored breathing indicated that he kept walking.

“ Damn it, tell me why the child is so important to you?” Andrei demanded. “If you’re a spy, why would you blow your cover because of this?”

“ It’s Christmas Eve. I guess I got carried away by the holiday spirit.”

“ Is being sentimental worth your life?”

“ Is chasing me worth yours?”

“ I always liked your attitude, but given the way you sound, I doubt this’ll be much of a contest.”

Abruptly, Andrei came to a spot where the footprints joined a number of others in a lane that went to the right and left.

“ Someone’s coming,” Yakov warned.

On the right, two couples emerged from the snowfall, prompting Andrei and his companions to tuck their weapons into their coats.

“ No, you’re wrong. Chevy Chase made the funniest Christmas movie,” one of the approaching men insisted to his companions. “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”