Julia Gousseva - Gray Shadows - Russian Historical Thriller

“Nobody cared about looks when this town was built. It was all about oil production,” Oleg said. “Upper Luzinsk is the oil capital of the Russian north, or so we are told.”

“But still. Just look at those triangles. Do people here have no taste?” Natalya said. “How tacky.”

“Stay here for a while, and then we’ll talk about taste,” Oleg said. “With the drab and dreary endless days of winter with barely any daylight for months, you would pick up a bucket of bright paint yourself.”

Nikolai doubted Natalya was the type to pick up anything herself, but he was pretty confident she was the type who did not like to get bored or stay bored. The question was what exactly she would do to keep herself entertained in this small quiet town, and how Nikolai would be able to prevent her from entertaining herself in ways that her dad would not find appropriate.

“What’s going on there?” Natalya said.

Nikolai turned to see what she was looking at. Oleg slowed down as they drove by an apartment building, its entrance surrounded by police cars with flashing lights and an ambulance. A small crowd gathered in front of the building, huddling together. Two paramedics carried a stretcher out of the building and set it on the frozen ground.

“This person must be dead. They wouldn’t just leave a living patient on the ground, would they?” Natalya said.

“Must be dead,” Oleg said.

“What do you think happened?” Natalya said.

“Probably a heart attack,” Oleg said.

“And that’s why the police are here?” Nikolai said.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I’m here with you, not out there,” Oleg said. “It’s just a guess.”

Nikolai did not ask anything else, and neither did Natalya. The dead body on the stretcher could be the result of many tragic but not necessarily unexpected circumstances, including a heart attack, so the police and medical presence was not a bad thing. At least this town had the police and medical services, as well as a way to ensure they showed up. However, something about the scene, besides the police cars, told Nikolai that the reason for the presence was not a heart attack. The people gathered by the building looked too distraught and too oblivious to the brutal cold. Even from the inside of Oleg’s Lada, Nikolai could sense their fear. It was not a heart attack that made these people stand outside, many with their coats unbuttoned and no hats. Whatever had happened in that building was something more serious and much more sinister.

Oleg turned the corner, and the building, with its distraught inhabitants, disappeared from view.

“Almost there.” Oleg pulled over to a gray three-storied building with large snow sculptures of alligators, monkeys, and elephants in front of it.

Nikolai wondered if placing exotic animals from tropical climates in the midst of this Arctic town was another way its inhabitants tried to cheer themselves up.

“This is Upper Luzinsk for you,” Oleg said.

“That’s the center of town?” Natalya said.

“As central as it gets,” Oleg said. “But that’s not the compound. I just need to pick up some papers so we can get you settled in the hotel.” Probably catching Nikolai’s questioning glance, Oleg quickly added, “Don’t worry. I know the routine. It’s not the first time I pick up Moscow employees here. I’ll be right back.”

Oleg left the car running, with the heater on, and jumped out. He strode inside the building and came back a few minutes later with a thick envelope.

“All done,” he said as he sat back behind the wheel, his tone quickly changing from casual to business-like. Oleg was no longer a driver, he was a company employee with a job to do, and his words clearly reflected that.

“Let’s go to the compound,” Oleg said. “How long are you staying for, by the way? Most interpreters stay for four weeks, that’s the typical shift. They work every day, weekends included, from seven in the morning till seven at night. All meals are provided, and the restaurant is inside the compound. And that’s a good thing, since the stores here have nothing. Are you okay sharing a room in the hotel with other interpreters? Or do you want private rooms?”

“Natalya and I will share a room,” Nikolai asked.

“What?” Natalya said. “I’m not sharing a room with you.”

“A lovers’ quarrel, I see.” Oleg chuckled. “None of my business, so you two figure out what you want to do.”

“I want my own room,” Natalya said.

“That’s not happening,” Nikolai said. “And not for the reasons you’re thinking about. As I told you before, I am not interested in you. This living arrangement is purely for your safety. If you want your own room, I’ll be happy to take you back to your dad’s house,” Nikolai said and addressed Oleg. “I’m Natalya’s bodyguard, and I need to be with her. Does the hotel have suites?” It felt awkward to introduce himself as a bodyguard, but that’s what Natalya’s dad apparently wanted.

“Bodyguard, really?” Oleg said. “Come on, you two can be honest with me. I don’t care who shares rooms with whom or what goes on in the hotel. Just get the work done.”

“It’s true.” Nikolai reached into his pocket and showed Oleg his ID card issued by the agency.

For a moment, Oleg took his eyes off the road and glanced at the card, then at Nikolai, his expression registering surprise. “So, you really aren’t kidding?”

Oleg glanced at Natalya in the rear-view mirror. “Why do you need a bodyguard?”

“Ask my dad.”

“Sorry, none of my business,” Oleg said. “Either way, you can share a room.”

“Only if it’s a suite,” Natalya said.

“That can be arranged,” Oleg said. “Here we are. That’s the compound.”

His Lada came to the edge of a large corner lot with a dozen identical manufactured office buildings, most of them two stories, and all of them white.

The buildings were huddled around an older, taller structure that looked like a typical Soviet-style apartment building. The whole compound was surrounded by a chain-link fence.

“Is this fence new?” Nikolai asked Oleg.

“It is. How did you know?”

“No snow on the ground on either side of it. You would have to clear away the snow to put the posts in, and it snows often here, so the ground would not stay exposed for long. Uneven distances between the posts shows me that it was put up in a hurry. Any special reason for building it?”

“Built last week after stacks of concrete blocks and pipes disappeared while we were all having lunch. It’s a temporary fence. We’ll need a better one eventually.”

“Did they find out who stole it?” Natalya asked.

“No,” Oleg said. “It’s pretty much impossible. And there’s the hotel, by the way. Not exactly five stars.” Oleg pointed to the old Soviet-style structure that Nikolai noticed earlier. Its paint was peeling, and it looked out of place in this modern compound. “Luzinsk Oil didn’t build it, as you can probably tell. It belongs to the town, but Luzinsk Oil is leasing this lot, and the hotel was the only building on it, so they ended up leasing the whole hotel, too. It was the easiest way to work out the lease agreement with the city.”

Oleg pulled over to the gated entrance, stopped, and pushed the intercom button. The entrance gate was tall and massive, a stark contrast to the flimsy chain-link fence.

“Any firearms in the car?” a voice said through the intercom.

Oleg turned to Natalya and Nikolai. “Firearms?”

“I don’t have any firearms, but Nikolai probably does,” Natalya said.

“Yes, I do,” Nikolai said.

“Wait, please,” the intercom said. “I need to talk to you.”