Chapter 3 #2
Her unexpected savior had his expression set in a disapproving glare as he stared at the drunk, who, egged on by the crowd, decided to be an idiot.
The fool swung clumsily, and Idris ducked before landing a solid blow to the man’s jaw, which toppled him like a tree.
The quick end to the sparring quieted the crowd, but only for a moment.
Grumbles soon arose at their short-lived entertainment.
Idris glanced at her. “You and Yuri should get out of here before someone else decides they’re stupid enough to take up where this guy left off.”
“You’re no safer,” she pointed out. “Why don’t you head to the truck with Yuri? I’m going to collect my fee.” Because she wouldn’t be coming back.
Yuri and Idris headed off for the rear door to a booing crowd, but thankfully, no one else braved the stage. Svetlana waited out of sight until Boris left his spot behind the bar to fetch another cask.
She intercepted him and said, “I’ll take my payment now.”
Her request led to Boris frowning. “As you can see, I’m busy and don’t have time right now. I will pay you tomorrow night before the show.”
No surprise he expected her to return, despite the altercation. After all, Boris wouldn’t be the one in trouble. Rather than point that out, she replied, “I’m afraid that doesn’t work, as I’m leaving town in the morning.”
Judging by the furrowed brow, not what Boris wanted to hear. “You can’t do that. I told those that got turned away they would get priority at the next show.”
“I’m sorry, but I received news my mother is sick and I have to return to Moscow. I really need that money.”
Boris’ lips pinched. “And I don’t have time to calculate the receipts right now. Come back after we close and I’ll pay you.”
Less than ideal, but better than fleeing town empty-handed. Svetlana headed out to the alley and the truck, half expecting to see the agitators in the alley causing trouble. Only Idris stood waiting. Yuri smartly hid in the truck’s bed, hopefully sleeping off the alcohol.
“Any trouble?” she asked as she neared Idris.
He shook his head. “Surprisingly enough, no.”
“Thank you for stepping in. Much better for a man to hit another than a bear.”
His lips pinched. “Do your shows often get that rowdy?”
Her shoulders rolled. “Not usually. By the looks of it, some of the patrons began drinking early. Pity, because I would have liked to stick around for a few more days.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes, but not for a few hours. Boris still owes me for tonight, but once I collect, Yuri and I will be heading out.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any point asking where?”
“Planning to join us?” asked teasingly, but also slightly hopefully.
He hesitated before he replied, “No.”
“Then I guess this is goodbye.”
“Guess so.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another before saying, “What time are you coming back to collect payment?”
“Why? Are you planning on robbing us?”
“What?” A startled exclamation. “Of course not. It’s just that Yuri’s passed out in the truck, and I thought you might want someone watching your back.”
The kind offer surprised. “I should be fine. Yuri will, most likely, have sobered up by then.”
“Okay. Well, guess I’ll get going then. It was nice meeting you.”
“You as well.” On impulse, she rose on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. “Take care, Idris.”
Before he could react to the embrace, she clambered into the truck and drove to the campground, sitting on the tailgate, keeping watch and surfing social media to see what might have been said about her show—nothing thankfully. She headed back to the bar just before closing.
Yuri still snored in the back when she returned to the tavern. Seeing no cars or anyone lingering in the area, she didn’t poke him awake. He could be a literal bear if woken before he’d sobered up.
Since the alley door wouldn’t budge, obviously locked, she knocked.
Boris must have been close by because he quickly opened it and beckoned her to enter.
“A good thing you showed. I was about to leave for the night,” he stated over his shoulder as he headed for the bar.
The surface of it gleamed, wiped clean of the spills and ready for the next day.
She noticed the stacks of rubles sitting on the countertop. “Looks like you had a good night.”
“The best I’ve ever had. Pity you won’t stay.” Boris’ lips turned down.
“I can’t. My mother. You know.” She shrugged and tried to stem a growing sense of unease. Blame the fact she’d come alone. Usually, she had Yuri by her side, keeping her safe. It didn’t help Boris kept looking past her, as if expecting someone.
Boris began counting out notes and making conversation. “You and that bear seem close. How long have you been together?”
“Five years.” The answer she always gave.
“Really? How odd, because a friend of mine in Penza remembers you coming through years ago. You mentioned five then, as well.”
She clenched her fists. “Perhaps your friend’s recollection is mistaken.”
“He also reminded me of an incident even further back, also involving a girl and a bear in Grozny.” A reminder of the time a glass bottle had been thrown at Yuri, who’d grabbed it in a paw and flung it back with better aim.
Ice filled her veins. Why was Boris mentioning this? Her words emerged clipped and stiff. “Must have been someone else. Never been to Grozny.”
“Are you sure? Seems hard to believe there would be another woman roaming Russia with a bear,” Boris exclaimed.
“Maybe I should try and find her so we can combine our shows,” she muttered. “Are you done counting? I don’t like to leave Yuri alone for long.”
“Understandable.” Boris offered a smile that seemed fake—or was that her paranoia?—and slid a pile of rubles over. “Here you go. Hope your mother recovers. If you ever come back this way, do get in touch. I’d love to feature you and the bear again.”
“I’ll be sure to contact you if we do. Thanks.”
Svetlana snatched the cash and pivoted, walking quickly for the exit.
No one remained in the bar, not even staff, yet she couldn’t shake her unease.
She headed out the door, only to pause, as several figures dressed in black awaited in the alley.
Even more concerning, a few of them had visible holsters.
“You are Svetlana, owner of the bear?” barked a man with pockmarked features. His crew cut, outfit, and attitude screamed military or government agent.
No point in lying, as they already knew the answer. “Yes. Can I help you?” She tried to keep her voice from trembling. Not easy, since she quivered within.
“You will come with us,” Pockmark ordered.
“Why?” she asked as two men moved to flank her.
“You’re wanted for questioning.”
Her mouth went dry. “I see. About what?”
“You know what,” Pockmark sneered.
“Who are you? What authority do you have to detain me?” she asked in an attempt to stall. Could she outrun them? Maybe, but what about Yuri?
“I am authorized by the government,” he replied. “And we have questions about your bear.”
Government could only mean KGB. Her worst fear realized. Doubtful she could talk her way out of this, but she tried. “What do you want to know about my bear?”
“We will ask the questions, once we’ve removed you to a secure location.”
AKA somewhere without a hope of escape while they grilled and tortured for the answers they wanted.
“Why all the interest? A bear trained to do tricks is nothing new.” There had been many instances of ursines learning to do tricks. Everyone knew the story of Wojtek, the bear who served in the Polish army during World War II.
Boris suddenly emerged, but he didn’t provide any help. On the contrary… “I’ll take back that money since you won’t be needing it where you’re going.” He held out his hand, and her mouth rounded.
As Svetlana opened her mouth to tell him where to go, a single gunshot rang out.
“Leave and speak to no one of this, or the next bullet will be to your head,” Pockmark snapped.
A pale Boris disappeared back inside.
Pockmark calmly holstered his weapon and acted as if he hadn’t just threatened to kill a man. “I assume the bear is in the truck?”
Before she could reply—and lie—Pockmark reached out to grab her shirt and yanked her close. “Is it caged?”
“Yuri doesn’t need to be confined. He’s perfectly docile.”
“Command him to exit the vehicle.”
“Why?” she blurted dumbly.
“Because you’re both being arrested.”
“You can’t do this. We haven’t done anything,” she exclaimed.
“We are KGB. We can do whatever we like,” his smug reply. “Now, call for him.”
“There’s no point. He’s sleeping.” Another lie, since the gunshot likely roused him. At least he had the good sense to remain hidden.
“Then you will wake him,” Pockmark ordered.
Her mind whirred, as she couldn’t know for sure if Yuri had changed or not. What would happen if Pockmark didn’t find a bear in the truck?
Slap. The hand that struck drew a cry and rocked her face to the side.
“Enough stalling,” yelled Pockmark. “Command the beast to emerge and not attack.”
She licked her swelling lip and tasted copper. Other than the pair of KGB agents flanking her and Pockmark, the rest, four in total, stood facing the back of her truck, pistols in hand.
Terrible odds, but it would be worse if they captured Yuri.
She cleared her throat and called out, “Oh, Yuri, could you come outside for a moment? And be on your very best behavior, please. There are some gentlemen who’d like to meet you.” If Yuri listened, he’d hear the warning.
The canvas flap didn’t move.
“I told you he was sleeping,” she stated with a shrug.
Pockmark scowled. “Maxim, see if the beast is even inside.”
Maxim, one of the smaller of the four, holstered his gun and lifted the flap to clamber inside. He ended up flying out a second later.
It seemed Yuri had woken.
And he wasn’t happy.
He emerged with a roar, and Svetlana screamed as the startled agents fired, which was when she realized those weren’t regular guns, but the tranquilizing kind.
Either they missed or adrenaline kept Yuri from succumbing to the drug as he batted aside the closest man and turned his gaze on the next.
Seeing them taking aim, she yelled, “Run, Yuri.”
His shaggy head swiveled in her direction. Their eyes met. In that split second, she saw him debating if he should fight.
If he did, they’d drug and cage him. Possibly even kill him.
She shook her head. For once, he listened.
With a snarl of rage, he bounded off.
Pockmark spat, “Don’t let him get away.”
The agents that could bolted after the bear, but not Pockmark. He kept his grip on Svetlana and snarled, “You’d better hope we find the beast.”
Or what? If they murdered her, then at least she’d die knowing her brother lived.