Belly of the Beast by Blake Crouch, Douglas Walker Read Free Book Online Page A

supposed to be off for the holiday. Call me if you find your mother; I’ll check my messages. Take care of yourself, Niki. You can’t help Alex if something happens to you.”
    Niki nodded, looked nervously up and down the corridor, and walked outside. It was dark, it was cold. Every passing car was a beast on the prowl, every alley a jackal’s den, every building the perch of something about to pounce. Going back to the consulate at night was not an option. Going to the hotel was not an option. Calling a stranger was not an option. Hands in her pockets, Niki felt the notebook, the envelope with Alex’s picture, and the twenty-dollar bill.
    Twenty dollars. Where am I going to sleep? I should have called Rob from the hospital . Niki turned to go back when a dark sedan slowed to a stop.
    Niki bolted through a courtyard, up a street, across a small park, and finally into a corner store. Breathless, she peered out through a plate glass window almost opaque with advertising— Camels, Colgate, Coca Cola.
    “Can I help you?” A clerk’s voice shook Niki back to the store.
    Niki turned. A stylish black woman, hands on a stained counter top, stood before shelves sagging with liquor bottles. In contrast to the store, the clerk’s nails were manicured and her silk blouse pressed. She looked down at Niki’s muddy slacks.
    Hunger outweighed all vanity. Niki heard Dr. Baxter’s voice, Take care of yourself. You can’t help Alex if something happens to you .
    “I need something to eat. Maybe a granola bar.”
    “Maybe a granola bar?” said the clerk. “Make a choice, girl.” She leaned forward as if she were about to reveal a secret. “Honey,” she said, “you got to be assertive. Look at me. Do you think I got this job by saying maybe I want to work here ? No. You got to be in charge, and, if I may be so bold,” the clerk paused to scan Niki’s limp jacket and muddy slacks, “you got to dress for success.”
    The criticism caught Niki like a branch to the face on a fast downhill ski run. Alex needed help, and she needed to find a donor. “Whatever it takes, I’m going to save my son.”
    “Pardon?”
    “I want a Power Bar,” said Niki as she opened her notebook to the number Fedor had given her—“And a telephone. I need to make a call.”

CHAPTER SIX

     
    Yuri Kolchak turned the thick collar of his wool coat against the chill blowing under the Golden Gate Bridge. He was tall, robust. A full head of silver hair swept across his brow. Deep crow’s feet said he was probably seventy. He stood by the rusty anchor chain that formed the guardrail at Fort Point and watched a cab stop in the empty parking lot. A young woman sat in the back.
     
    Niki leaned forward from the back seat and paid the driver five dollars as agreed, then carefully counted out a small tip. “Thank you,” she said. “I really have to watch my money until the airline finds my purse, but the good news is that they are sending my pack from Denver. I’ll be able to change clothes before I start back.”
    The cabbie nodded. “Sorry ‘bout your boy. You gonna be all right? I could wait a few minutes to make sure that guy is okay.”
    “You’d do that? I can’t pay you any more.”
    “I have a daughter. I’ll stick around until I see you nod that you’re okay.”
     
    Yuri smiled as Niki approached. “Svetlana’s little girl. You’ve certainly grown up. I am surprised you finally called; it’s been three years since I wrote to you.”
    “You sent that letter from San Mateo?”
    “Isn’t that how you found me?”
    “I got your number at the Soviet Consulate.”
    Yuri stiffened. “Another damn setup,” he mumbled in Russian, then glanced about. Above, the Golden Gate Bridge disappeared into the fog, the rumble of traffic the only sign that it went somewhere. Below, confused waves sent up white spray as they crashed on the rocks. Toward the bridge, a few fishermen focused on the tips of their poles. The cabbie watched in his