Red Templar by Paul Christopher Read Free Book Online

thoughtfully. “They will be watching the airport, I think.”
    “Train station and bus station as well.” Holliday nodded. “Not to mention the fact that neither you nor I have visas for entering Russia.”
    “If we stay here they will find us sooner or later. They will check the Turkish border crossing, I think. I am the very handsome man, I am sure, but I am also very black, and I don’t think they would be seeing too many
pasaportes
from Cuba.”
    “So what do we do?”
    Eddie shrugged. “There must be places where the border is easier to cross.”
    “Into Serbia, maybe, but not into Russia.”
    Viktor the waiter shimmered up and asked them if they needed anything else . . . fresh-squeezed pomegranate and tangerine juice, perhaps, dessert, coffee, anything . . . Holliday took out his wallet and counted out ten twenty-lev notes and set them on the table. By his calculations two hundred leva was about a hundred and fifty bucks. Viktor didn’t even blink. He swept up the bills, folded them neatly and tucked them into the pocket of his black-and-red vest.
    “
Dobar wecher!
What I can do for the
gospoda
today?”
    Holliday smiled pleasantly. “My friend and I are looking for a bit of an adventure,” he said. Viktor’s left eyebrow crept up and he glanced toward Eddie, but he remained silent.
    “What kind adventure the
gospoda
look for? Small-type adventure, bigging adventure, or very serious adventure?”
    “Very serious,” answered Holliday.
    Viktor stared at the spot where the money had been. Holliday took out ten more bills. Viktor didn’t look happy. Holliday laid out an additional ten. At that point they disappeared into Viktor’s vest pocket again.
    “You look for what adventure, exact?”
    “We were thinking there must be an adventurous way to get into Russia.”
    “Definite, sure.” Viktor nodded, giving his patented stare down at the table again.
    “Two hundred more when you give us directions.”
    “Easy,” said Viktor, grinning. “My friends, we do it all the time. Easy-peasy.”
    “How?” Holliday asked.
    “The ferry.”
    “There is no ferry.”
    “Not people ferry, ferry for the trains. Hero of Sevastopol. Leave tonight, nine o’clock, thirteen hours after,
pssht!
You have achieved Russia at port of Illichivsk.”
    “Where is Illichivsk?”
    “Maybe ten mile Odessa. Very nearby. I have girl there. Marinoska. Blondie-type girl. Nice.”
    “I’m sure she is, Viktor. How do we get on the ferry?”
    “Two hundred leva, I show you, another five hundred, I take you there.”
    “To the ferry?”
    “No, no.” Viktor grinned. “I take you Illichivsk and then Odessa to meet with Marinoska. Viktor give the best service in Varna, no doubt!”
    “Okay,” said Holliday. “When do we leave?”
    “Seven thirty o’clock. You have car, of course?”
    “Of course.”
    “In parking lot of hotel then,” said Viktor. “Seven thirty o’clock we meet. I bring food and some nice beers. You pay me then. We have good time, okay?”
    “It’s a deal,” said Holliday.
    *  *  *
    The ferry terminal at the port of Varna was south of the main port and the naval base. After the fall of the Soviet Union, trade between Bulgaria and the Ukraine had collapsed, but UKR ferries had recently revived the trade in moving railcars back and forth between Varna and Odessa.
    There was a crane arrangement where the wider-gauge bogies on the Russian cars were switched to the narrower European gauge, a large multitrack holding facility for waiting railcars, and a dock and hydraulic ramp system capable of handling two ships at a time, usually one just arrived and one just leaving.
    Each four-hundred-foot-long ship was capable of taking a total of one hundred and eight freight cars on the main deck and the two decks below. The trick was to know which cars were going on the top deck and which were going below, and to make sure you didn’t try to hop a freight car that had just been unloaded. Empty