Part 25 (1/2)

Everything was different. Everything was changed.

Of their mother Elena Cornelius there was of course no sign at all. They waited a while, pointlessly. It was futile. They were simply causing themselves pain.

Eligiya Kamilova wondered what to do. It was only now she was here that she realised she had no plan for what came next, no plan at all.

'We'll come back again tomorrow,' said Galina to Yeva. 'We'll come every day.'

8.

The next morning, early, Lom went up into the mountains with Maksim, Konnie and Elena. Konnie had rented a boxy grey Narodni with a dented near-side wheel arch. The interior smelled strongly of tobacco smoke. There was a heaped ashtray in the driver's door. The streets climbed steeply out of Anaklion into scrub and scree and dark dense trees. No sun yet reached the lower slopes.

They drove in silence. Lom, squeezed onto the scuffed leather bench-seat in the back next to Elena, watched out of the window. The Narodni struggled on the steep inclines and Konnie swore, fis.h.i.+ng for the second gear that wasn't there. The back of Maksim's head sank lower and lower between his shoulders.

After forty-five minutes Konnie pulled off the road onto a rough stony track. Out of sight among boulders and black cypress she killed the engine.

'This is it,' she said. 'You walk from here.'

Maksim, Lom and Elena left her with the car and started up a steep narrow hunting trail. Elena carried a rifle slung across her back. When they crested a ridge and clear stony ground fell away to their right, she broke away on her own. Two minutes later Lom couldn't see her at all.

It took him and Maksim another hour to work their way around to the thick woodland above and behind the gatehouse of Dacha Number Nine. Maksim picked his route carefully, stopping to look at his watch. He seemed to know what he was doing. Once he had them crawl on their bellies in under thick green spiky vegetation.

'Patrol,' he hissed.

The sun was higher now, kindling scent from crushed leaves and crumbling earth. Slow pulses of purple and blue rippled across the cloudless sky. A liminal solar breathing.

Lom's every move and step was a startling noise in the thin motionless air.

They crouched in the shadow of a pine trunk. The roof of the gatehouse was fifty feet below them, and beyond it the closed gate itself. Maksim checked his watch again and put his face close to Lom's ear.

'Now we wait,' he whispered. 'I will tell you when.'

9.

Lukasz Kistler was lying on a low cot bed in his cell. Every part of him was in pain. He followed the pa.s.sing of days and nights by the rectangle of sky in the high window, but he didn't count them. Not any more. He divided time between when he was alone and safe and when he was not, that was all.

When the key turned in the lock and the door opened he wanted to open his mouth and scream but he did not. He knotted his fingers tight in his grey blanket and pulled the fabric taut: a little wall of wool, a s.h.i.+eld across his chest. A protection that protected nothing at all.

Vasilisk the bodyguard stepped inside and padded across to the bed. Looked down on Kistler impa.s.sively with sleepy half-closed eyes.

'Please,' said Kistler. His mouth was dry. 'Not any more. There is no more. It's finished now.'

'You've got friends outside the dacha,' said Vasilisk. 'They're coming to take you away.'

Kistler tried to focus on what he was hearing. He couldn't get past the fact it was the first time he had heard Vasilisk speak. His voice was pitched oddly high.

'They're going to try to blow up the gate,' he said. 'Stand up. You have to come with me.'

'I refuse,' said Kistler. He pressed himself deeper into the thin mattress. The springs dug into his back.

'You refuse?' Vasilisk looked at him with faint surprise, like there was something unexpected on his plate at dinner.

'I refuse,' said Kistler again. 'Absolutely I refuse. No more. I will not come again. Not any more. I'm finis.h.i.+ng it. Now.'

Vasilisk bent in and hooked a hand under Kistler's shoulder, iron fingers digging deep into his armpit, hauling him up. Kistler resisted. Pulled away and tried to fall back onto the mattress.

Vasilisk leaned forward and jabbed him in the solar plexus.

Kistler screamed and retched and tried to bring his knees up, curling himself into a protective ball, but the last of his strength had gone. Rizhin's bodyguard yanked him to his feet and held him upright, though his legs failed him and he could not stand.

Kistler heard a strange sound and realised it was himself sobbing.

'Shut up,' said Vasilisk and jabbed him again.

On the slope above the guardhouse Maksim nudged Lom in the ribs and gestured with his chin.

Go! Go!

Vasilisk the bodyguard half-carried, half-dragged the unresisting semi-conscious Kistler through the rose garden and past the swimming pool. There was no one there. From half past ten to half past twelve there was tennis.

Iced tea at half past eleven.

Rizhin's car was parked in the courtyard and Vasilisk had the keys in his pocket. He checked the time on his watch: 10.51.

He opened the rear door and bundled Kistler inside. Pushed him down into the footwell. Kistler groaned and retched again, spilling sour vomit down the front of his s.h.i.+rt.

Vasilisk took his place in the driver's seat and settled down to wait.

Lom eased open the door of the gatehouse. Maksim entered first, pistol in his hand. The guards swung round in surprise: one reached for his holster, the other made a grab for the telephone receiver.

Maksim fired twice. Neat and precise.

Lom ripped the phone cable from the wall.

At 10.55 Rizhin himself came round the corner of the veranda into the courtyard. Vasilisk followed him in the rear-view mirror. Saw him glance across at the car and see his bodyguard in the driver's seat. Puzzled, Rizhin started to come over.

Vasilisk turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred into life. He slipped the car into gear and headed for the tunnel entrance. A cool dark mouth in the rock. In his mirror he saw Rizhin standing in the middle of the courtyard watching him go.