William Wu - Dictator

Both men turned to him in surprise.

“What have they told you?” Hunter asked.

“Shut up,” Agent Konev repeated. He was still studying Hunter’s face, however, with new interest.

“You know them personally?” Agent Raskov asked.

“Yes, I do,” said Hunter. “I suspect they are using you for their own ends.”

“What does that mean?” Agent Konev demanded.

“I think it’s obvious,” said Agent Raskov. “We’ve been duped, comrade. They sent us on a diversionary chase and stole our vehicle. Maybe Hunter, here, is not at all that they claimed he was.”

“Well, maybe he is. We certainly can’t afford to make another blunder tonight.”

“Granted,” said Agent Raskov. “Let’s go into an apartment building and start knocking on doors. Sooner or later, we’ll find someone who has a telephone. We don’t have to give any explanations about our car.”

“All right,” Agent Konev said wearily. “We must get to work on this. I agree.”

Hunter patiently allowed them to take him wherever they wished. They marched him to the front of a darkened apartment building, where Agent Raskov remained out on the sidewalk with him. Agent Konev pounded on the locked front door, waited, and then hammered on it again. The sound was loud on the quiet street. Finally someone opened it. Agent Konev identified himself and was allowed inside.

Hunter waited only six minutes with Agent Raskov before Agent Konev came back out of the building.

“Did you find a phone?” Agent Raskov asked.

“Yes.” Agent Konev nodded grimly. “I did not explain, not yet.”

“We will have to explain soon. Who else was on duty? Who is coming to get us, comrade?”

“The night clerk is driving out.”

“Oh, young Mikhail? At least he will keep his mouth shut.” Agent Raskov let out a long sigh.

“Yes, he will.”

They waited out on the street for only about ten minutes before a car drew up to the curb. Hunter allowed himself to be directed into the backseat between the two agents. No one spoke as they rode away.

The car parked behind a large building. Hunter recognized it as the same one from which he had rescued Judy. He was taken into an unmarked back door. Inside, he found himself at the opposite end of the same hallway where he had bluffed his way in to get Judy.

For a few minutes, the agents locked him up alone in an interrogation room. It was similar to the one in which Judy had been held, with a table, a single lamp, and several chairs. The walls had no windows. A steam radiator against one wall provided some heat. He sat down in a chair.

When the door opened, his two hosts came in, now without their overcoats, and shut it. They sat down across the table from him, studying him grimly. He waited for them to speak.

“Who are you, Hunter? Where did you come from?” Agent Konev looked him in the eye.

“I was a farm worker west of Moscow until the Germans came. Then I fled into the city with everyone else.” By now, using their own speech as a model, Hunter had polished and perfected his Russian accent and colloquialisms. They would not pick out flaws in his speech.

“What was the name of your farm?”

Hunter did not know of one. He shrugged. “We just called it ‘the farm.’ “

Agent Konev frowned deeply. “You don’t know the name of the place were you worked?”

“We never paid much attention.”

“I say you are a German spy.”

Hunter remained silent. That was probably what Wayne Nystrom had told them. Based on what Judy had told him about the NKVD, he now expected much worse treatment-maybe physical torture and an attempt to imprison him in a labor camp.

“What is your mission here?” Agent Raskov spoke this time. “Who is your contact?”

Hunter considered his options. Of course, he could withstand substantially greater torture than a human, but he could not afford to have his captors find that out. In any case, the Third Law required that he not allow harm to come to himself.

“Speak, Hunter!” Agent Konev shouted. “Your silence proves your guilt! Now answer us!”

Since Hunter had given Steve the belt unit to trigger the sphere back in Room F-12, Hunter could only escape by means of his own personal resources. That would endanger the welfare of his whole team. He still did not want to take that step.

Suddenly Agent Konev shot up out of his chair and punched Hunter across the table, striking him in the face. Hunter’s reflexes gave him plenty of time to see it coming, and he rocked back slightly with the blow. He carefully sustained much of the punch and allowed himself to fall from his chair to the floor, to give the man some satisfaction.

As Hunter slowly got to his feet, both agents moved around the end of the table. Agent Raskov grabbed Hunter under his arms and hoisted him up. At the same time, Agent Konev slammed his fist into Hunter’s abdomen. As before, Hunter reacted the way he judged a human would, doubling forward and then falling to his knees, pulling free of Agent Raskov’s grasp.

“Let him think about it,” said Agent Raskov.

“He needs more convincing, comrade-and this is only the beginning!” Agent Konev struck Hunter in the head with his knee, almost casually.

Hunter obligingly fell over on the floor. He could see only their lower legs and feet now.

“It’s been a long night,” said Agent Raskov. “At least, let’s discuss it outside. Come.”

“All right.” Agent Konev kicked Hunter with one foot as a parting shot and switched off the light.

Hunter remained motionless until they had left. The door closed behind them firmly and the lock snapped into place. Then Hunter stood up.

The room was completely dark except for the strip of indirect light entering under the door from the hall. The only possible exit for Hunter was the door. Unless he chose to use it, he could do nothing but wait.

The next morning, Steve sat with Judy and Jane in their corner of the warehouse with their bowls of hot gruel.

“What are we going to do?” Jane asked. “Are we joining the work brigade today, or what?”

“It’s the best way to blend in,” said Steve. “If we leave, we might not be welcome back. Judy, what do you think?”

“What’s the point of joining the work brigade? Just to wait till Hunter comes back?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve paused to eat. “If we start running around Moscow on our own, it’ll be even harder for him to find us.”

“You could…you know.” Jane tapped her lapel pin. “If we call him after we leave here, it won’t endanger these people again.”

.”But we’ll be stuck with nowhere to go tonight,” said Steve. “I think our best bet now is to stay with the work brigade and wait for Hunter to come back.”

“I’m afraid we’ll wait forever,” said Judy. “What if something permanent happens to him? We’ll just be sitting around.”

“Let’s give him another day, at least,” said Steve. “That’s not very long.”

“I agree,” said Jane. “If he has to sneak away instead of break out, a day isn’t too long to wait.”

“So I’m outvoted,” said Judy, with a sigh. “All right. I guess it won’t hurt a historian to go out with a work brigade and dig ditches for a day. Maybe I’ll learn something useful out there.”

Ishihara lay motionless on the hard, cold floor, conserving his energy. Wayne slept soundly, using his cloak for padding. In the morning, the sounds of other people rising and talking awakened Wayne. Stretching, he looked around and then sat up.

“Are you well?” Ishihara asked quietly. He sat up, also.

“Uh, yeah. It was kind of a short night, though. How long was I asleep?”

“Six hours and four minutes. Well short of the eight hours recommended for ideal human rest.”