Hotel Moscow by Talia Carner Read Free Book Online

step. “Did you see them?” she called to Aleksandr, hearing her own hysteria. “Did you hear what’s going on?” At the sound of her shout, a flock of ravens perched on the high concrete wall screeched and took off.
    Aleksandr fidgeted. “It’s none of our business.”
    “We almost got killed! The building might catch fire with the rest of our group trapped there.”
    He looked at her blankly.
    She hoisted herself up the second step and brought her face inches from his. Her tongue felt thick, and her lips were parched. “Aleksandr, a man was stabbed. A woman may be dead. They’re going to burn the place down. Get the police. Now!”
    “Who?” Aleksandr clutched his leather manila case to his chest. “I don’t have the number.”
    “You don’t know the number for the police?”
    “There’s no phone here anyway, and it’s almost four o’clock.”
    “ So ?”
    “The police go home.”
    A chair burst through the second floor window, crashing by the bus. The ravens rose into the air again.
    Workers poured out of the building. Jenny pushed past Brooke and plopped into a seat, sobbing. To Brooke’s relief, Amanda came running out of another corner of the building, the rest of the group close at her heels. Amanda counted the women entering the bus. “What in God’s name has happened?” she asked Brooke.
    The shaking would not leave Brooke’s body. “They’re going to burn the place. I saw them punch Svetlana, stab the economist, and maybe kill another woman.” She swallowed. “Didn’t you hear it?”
    “We were two floors up on the other end of the building—”
    Brooke cut her off. “Maybe there’s a cop at a street corner.”
    Without replying, Amanda took off in the direction of the gate, but turned around as soon as she rounded the bus. “The alley is blocked!” she yelled from her spot.
    Brooke stepped behind the bus and saw a dark blue Mercedes parked across the passageway. “You’re not going anywhere alone,” she said to Amanda.
    “The group is my responsibility.” Amanda’s brow crinkled as she tried to assess the situation. “I must get you all out ofhere.” She turned and started ushering the agitated women into the bus.
    Brooke got on the first step again and called out to Aleksandr. “Get up, get off the bus, and go to a neighbor, find a phone, and call for help. Now.”
    His hands moved in a gesture of powerlessness. “If the factory didn’t make arrangements with the police or with a private group, it can’t get protection.”
    Brooke stared at him.
    “Things must be done po blatu, ” he added. “Through connections.”
    At a single uniform yelp from the women on the bus, Brooke’s head snapped around. The thugs raced out of the building and jumped into their Mercedes. The engine revved up and the car jerked forward, then fishtailed through the gate.
    “Brooke, get in and let’s go,” Amanda said to her.
    But Brooke’s glance took in the building and she saw Svetlana emerge, her face puffy, holding her jaw. She hurried toward Svetlana.
    “Tell Amanda you should better leave. . . . I apologize,” Svetlana said, panting. “This is bad hospitality—” She broke into a sob. Brooke pulled her close, the sweet perfume mingled with perspiration. Svetlana was almost a head shorter. Brooke stroked her back. She wished someone would comfort her, too.
    “Brooke,” Amanda called out.
    On the front seat of the bus Jenny was crossing herself. Brooke hesitated, still stroking Svetlana’s back. She had seen enough of Russia. She knew what to advise her clients about investing in a country where even in its largest city the police went home byfour o’clock—and whose phone number was unlisted. Hoffenbach’s report about the budding violence in Russia mentioned that mafia gangs sprouted on every street, every neighborhood, every industry. Brooke hadn’t fathomed the extent of that, hadn’t imagined a head-on collision with its ugly face.
    She must leave. Now. Yet,