Andrew Kaplan - Scorpion Winter

The limousine pulled into a park with government buildings and broad expanses of snow. Militsiyu guards stopped it and peered inside. The driver said something to them and the guards waved them on. They drove through the park toward a helipad near a big columned building topped with a dome; the Verkhovna Rada, the parliament building. There were squads of soldiers and two SAM missile batteries parked in front, and a private helicopter was just landing on the helipad. The limousine stopped and the two shaven-headed men jumped out and checked to see that it was clear, then stood by the door as first Scorpion, then Akhnetzov and Evgeniya got out.

The day was gray and cold, the wash from the helicopter blowing against them. From where he stood, Scorpion could see the Puppet Theatre on a snow-covered hill in the distance. The image of Alyona and the bodies hanging in that room beneath the stage flashed in his mind. He hoped it wasn’t an omen.

“Here,” he said, handing Akhnetzov the flash drive from the button camera. “If what I’m planning doesn’t work out, show it to the Russians.”

Akhnetzov nodded. As he and the others started toward the helicopter, Scorpion shouted after him.

“If they don’t invade, you owe me the rest of the money!”

Without turning around, Akhnetzov waved to acknowledge that he heard and continued toward the helicopter. Scorpion watched them board and take off, heading high over the Dnieper River toward the airport. He took out his cell phone and called Iryna.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m with Viktor-and Slavo,” she warned. “We’re leaving for the front. It’s terrible what’s happening.”

“Don’t go. Meet me. We can stop this.”

“You found Shelayev? You have proof?”

“It’ll change everything,” he said. He heard her talking urgently to Viktor in Ukrainian. She came back on.

“Viktor wants to talk to you,” she said.

“Mr. Kilbane?” Kozhanovskiy said. “You found what you were looking for? You can prove we had nothing to do with Cherkesov’s death?”

“I have Shelayev’s confession on video.”

“He says he was acting under Gorobets’s orders?”

“It’s all Gorobets; all of it.”

There was a pause. He heard them talking urgently among themselves in Ukrainian. Kozhanovskiy came back on.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “This is-” He took a deep breath. “-good news.”

“Put Iryna on. We don’t have much time,” Scorpion said.

Iryna came back. He told her where to meet him.

“One moment,” she whispered. He waited until she came back on. She must have gone somewhere to get away from Slavo, he thought. “I’m worried,” she said. “I tried to call the clinic about Alyona. No one picked up.”

“All right,” he said, his teeth clenched.

“Except it’s not all right, is it?”

“No.”

Scorpion ended the call and got back into the limousine. As they headed toward the center of town, he called the Medikom clinic. The phone rang for a long time. He dialed again. Finally, on the third try, a woman answered. He asked for Dr. Yakovenko. The woman told him the doctor had left on vacation. He asked about a patient, giving her the name they had used to check Alyona into the clinic. The woman told him to wait. After what seemed like a long time, she came back on the line.

“I’m sorry, pane,” she said. “There’s no record of any such patient.”

Shevchenkivskyi

Kyiv, Ukraine

Iryna was waiting for him at a counter at a snack bar in the Central Station. She wore glasses and the curly redheaded wig under her fur Ushanka hat and had ordered coffees and pampushky pastries for two. Scorpion had watched her enter the station’s main entrance from the McDonald’s across the street. It didn’t look like she was followed, but he watched for another ten minutes just to make sure.

The TV in the McDonald’s was broadcasting news about widespread panic. Tens of thousands were evacuating Kyiv, headed for the countryside. All roads out of the city were packed with cars going one way, military vehicles going the other. In some districts of Kyiv and other cities, there had been looting. Store windows were smashed and supermarket shelves picked clean. Gangs of youths roamed the streets, breaking into houses and taking food and whatever else they could. Gorobets, speaking for Davydenko, declared at a podium that the office of the acting president had declared a state of martial law. “Looters,” he said, staring straight at the camera, “will be shot.”

Scorpion double-checked one last time, then crossed the street to the station. The main hall was crowded with people, many with families, heavy with luggage and desperate to get out before the war started. He found the snack bar. It was standing room only and thick with cigarette smoke. As he squeezed in beside Iryna, he put his hand on the counter and she gave it a squeeze.

“Why is Slavo still around?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think until you called, Viktor was beginning to question whether I wasn’t too much of a liability.” She looked around. “Why are we meeting here?” Crowded in at the counter, they could have been any couple trying to get on a train.

“The airport is jammed. Every flight is booked. There’s a train leaving for Krakow at 2248 hours. Thanks to a little extra,” he said, rubbing his thumb against his fingers in the universal sign for money, “I was able to get two tickets. I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes searched his face. “What are you saying?” she asked.

“You know what I’m saying.”

“Because of the war?”

“Because after the TV broadcast, we’ll have done everything we can.” He partly covered his mouth with his hand so only she could hear him. “There are a lot of people who want me dead around here, and after the broadcast, your life won’t be worth a plugged nickel either. Not if Gorobets has anything to say about it.”

“But Viktor-” she began.

“Maybe he can pull it off. After the broadcast, Davydenko and Gorobets will be on the defensive. But NATO is scared shitless. If there’s a way out, they’ll take it. The Russians too. They’ve backed themselves into a corner. Our broadcast will give them the excuse they’re looking for. If Gorobets gives them what they want, the Russians will do a deal. Look around you,” he said, glancing at the people packing the snack bar. “These people aren’t ready to fight a war.”

Iryna took a cigarette out of her handbag and lit it. She took a long puff and exhaled thoughtfully.

“What would we do in Krakow?” she said.

“Get on a plane. There are some places I’d like to show you.”

She gave a little snort of laughter. “ Gospadi, all this time I’ve thought you were the least romantic man I’d ever met.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “We can’t go,” she said. “So much depends on us. What about Alyona?”

“You tell me. The clinic said they never heard of her.”

“She’s gone. Disappeared.” Iryna nodded. “I stayed at the clinic all night. In the morning, when I left to meet with Viktor, Alyona was still there. She was in no condition to be moved.”

“And now supposedly that doctor, Yakovenko, all of a sudden, with a war coming, has gone on vacation!”

“After we spoke, I asked Viktor to have someone check it out. All they got was that men came into the clinic sometime after I left and took someone-no one will say who-away. No one saw anything. No one knows anything. The nurse told them if anyone asked her even that, she would swear the patient never existed.” She leaned closer. “Shelayev killed Cherkesov? You’re certain? You’ve got proof?”