Black Knight in Red Square by Stuart M. Kaminsky Read Free Book Online Page A

stopped tapping.
    â€œYou followed like a fish,” he said, showing a very poor set of teeth. He was the biggest of the group, quite big and clearly the leader.
    â€œI am a police inspector,” Tkach said, trying not to show fear. “There are police downstairs by now. You don’t want trouble with the police. Just come with me and answer a few questions.”
    â€œAbout what?” asked the leader, closing his knife and putting it in his pocket.
    â€œRoutine,” said Tkach, cursing himself for sweating.
    â€œAh,” said the leader, suddenly understanding. “You mean about my selling drinks in the square without a license.”
    â€œYes,” said Tkach. “That is it.”
    â€œAnd you followed me all the way here for that great crime?”
    â€œAnd to see if you were involved in any other criminal activity,” Tkach said. “I don’t like your looks, but I can see you’re not up to anything more than mild hooliganism.”
    â€œDo any of you believe this baby face?” the leader asked.
    There was no answer. The leader came around the desk and moved in front of Tkach.
    â€œThose women,” he said. “That’s why you followed us. We want to know how you got on to us. You tell us. Then we push you around a little, tie you up, and run. We’ve got places in the North we can go.”
    It was a lie, a poor lie, a game to give Tkach hope and then take it away. The image of the battered women came back to Tkach and he said, “There is no place you can hide in the Soviet Union. You know that. You might as well give up and hope that you get labor in a detention camp.”
    â€œI don’t like this,” came a voice from behind Tkach. It was one of the men at the door, the one who looked like the youngest. “If the police are coming, we have to get out of here. Let’s just kill him and go.”
    The leader shook his head sadly at the ignorance of his underling.
    â€œThere are no police coming. He’s the only one. He hasn’t had time to call for help. He’s alone. We saw he was alone.”
    Tkach now understood the situation. The leader enjoyed making the victim suffer; they had probably never worked on a man before, and he was trying to decide how to handle it.
    He looked at Tkach and suddenly threw a punch into the policeman’s stomach. Tkach doubled over, and the man grabbed his hair and pulled him up straight.
    â€œTo the elevator,” the leader said. “We’ll make it a double. Our brave policeman can watch while we show him first hand how we do our work on the elevator operator. Misha, when we get on, you close the elevator doors. Boris, you grab the woman and throw her on the floor. Alexi and I will watch our inspector.”
    When they turned Tkach around, he was still trying to catch his breath. Breathe slowly, he told himself as they walked to the elevator. As soon as the door opened, he would make his move, try to fight them off and get the door closed. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best he could do. At the very least, he would smash the face of the leader before they got their knives into him. May the first punch be wonderful. May it break him, kill him.
    He dragged his feet and doubled over, trying to slow them down, but it didn’t do much good. He had told the elevator operator not to come up here, to wait for the police, but he had little hope that she would obey. And he couldn’t be sure the woman in the gift shop had called. Even if she had, he didn’t know how long it would take for help to come. It would almost certainly be too late.
    The men surrounded him at the elevator door and pushed the button. Tkach hoped fervently that the elevator would not come but slowly, steadily, it was coming. He looked up at the inscription embossed on the panel above the elevator door: The Revolution Continues. Transportation Forward.
    With that, the door of the elevator