Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
From inside the automated restaurant, Idris had watched as several cars parked in front of the hotel where he and the siblings shared a room.
Armored soldiers, clad in body armor that included helmets and weapons, spilled out of the vehicles.
Had they come for him, Svetlana, and Yuri, or was this just a coincidence?
The arrival of a military truck answered that question. A soldier exited the cab and went to the back, rolling up the canvas and providing a glimpse of a cage within.
The hunters had found them, leaving Idris with a difficult decision.
Race inside and see if his presence could make a difference, or bide his time, remaining in hiding in the hopes an opportunity would arise.
His bear might be mighty, but even he had his limits.
He’d do no one any good if captured or killed.
A dinging had him glancing behind to see his order sitting on the counter. He’d lost his appetite, but leaving it behind might seem suspicious to the staff working in the back.
He snagged the bag and exited the restaurant, sidling away from the hotel, doing his best to avoid being noticed even as he struggled with his next move. Forget following. Not only could he not see a way to reach the parked car, but the keys remained in the room.
His ears pricked as he heard faint screams. Seemed like Yuri wasn’t going down without a fight. Perhaps he and Svetlana would manage to break free.
A hope dashed as an oversized dolly emerged from the truck and got wheeled into the hotel. Why else would they need it unless they had a big bear to move?
Whup. Whup. Whup.
The familiar sound had him glancing to the sky in time to spot a large military helicopter passing overhead, most likely to grab Levy and return him to his lab so that he could torture Yuri and Svetlana with his perverse science.
There had to be a way to stop the doctor and help his new friends—and lover.
Before an idea had fully formed, Idris strode the sidewalk, moving away from the hotel at a rapid pace.
Away from the truck he couldn’t follow. Stowing inside or under it would have been almost impossible with all the soldiers milling around, which left him only one crazy option—the helicopter, large enough to carry troops or equipment.
If he could manage to slip inside and hide, he’d score a free ride to Levy’s lab, but that plan required him not getting caught.
The trip on foot didn’t take long with his quick pace. He lost sight of the helicopter, but given the lack of space in the area, the buildings tight to one another, and the fact he didn’t see it parked in the street, that left only one spot it could be. The hotel’s roof.
He couldn’t see it from the ground even when he craned. Was it there? If he was wrong, then Yuri and Svetlana were fucked. No time to second-guess; he had to act fast.
In good news, the guard from the night before didn’t appear to be monitoring the main doors.
Should he enter? How badly would he stick out?
The number of people he’d seen at the other hotel must have depleted the ones staying here.
At the same time, he couldn’t forget his wanted status.
Anyone within would be on the lookout for the giant brown complexioned man, but at the same time, only a madman—or a desperate one—would be so bold as to brave the belly of the beast.
Before he could talk himself out of it, and lose his only chance, Idris headed for the entrance, an idea forming in his head.
After all, he held a bag of food and delivery was quite common.
He stalked past the glass doors and readied himself to shake the bag if anyone questioned his presence.
To his surprise, no one paid him any mind, despite there being several hotel employees gathered at the front desk.
Judging by their excited voices and flailing hands, they gossiped.
Must not be every day they had the KGB staying en masse, or did their excitement stem from the helicopter?
He really should have tried harder to learn Russian.
Idris made his way to the elevator without issue, getting off on the first floor to hit the stairs, the logic being he’d be less likely to run into people.
He took the steps two at a time, already knowing from their last incursion that the stairs didn’t stop at the last floor but went up to the roof.
Before he could ascend that last flight, voices beyond the door on the sixth had him stopping for a listen.
“Back so soon? Where’s Olga?” a testy Levy demanded.
“Dead. Bear kill,” a man replied in a heavy accent.
One for the good guys.
“Probably for the best, seeing as how she was too dumb to realize she fucked the enemy. Although, she would have made a good test subject,” Levy mulled aloud. “I assume by your presence you managed to capture the bear?”
“Yes. All in truck. Move soon,” the man struggled to say.
“Good. What of the third male we’re looking for? Any sign of him?”
“No find.”
Idris was tempted to pop out and shout, Here I am, before ripping out Levy’s throat. However, if he did that, he might never find the lab and, in turn, the truck carrying Svetlana and Yuri. Rescuing them had to come before his satisfying revenge.
“Keep looking.”
“Wait, truck for man?” asked the Russian.
“No. Tell them to go. I’m not taking chances Patient Seventy-six finds a way to rescue them.”
“When you go? Heli here,” stated the Russian.
“Soon. I just need a minute to gather my things. Has it been loaded with the supplies I asked for?”
“Yes. Boxes packed.”
“Good. Tell the pilot I’ll be up shortly.”
A door slammed, and the Russian muttered something Idris didn’t understand before entering the stairwell. No time to hide. Idris punched him hard in the head. Hard enough the big Russian folded. Now what, though?
Idris eyed the unconscious fellow, more specifically, the uniform.
He moved quickly, slinging the man over his shoulder and skipping down to the fifth floor.
An ear to the door indicated no one moving beyond it, so he slipped into the hall and grabbed hold of the first knob he saw.
Locked, of course, but no match for a burly shoulder that rammed.
The door popped open, and no one screamed.
The pristine room didn’t appear to have a guest.
Idris quickly stripped the Russian and dressed himself in the uniform before ripping out a television cord to bind the unconscious man.
He also stuffed a facecloth into his mouth to keep him quiet when he woke.
As he rose from his crouch, his new coat pocket buzzed.
He pulled out a phone. That could come in handy, but only if he could get past the locked screen.
He removed the Russian’s gag for a second and held the cell up to the guy’s face.
Soon as he had access, and despite language barrier, he navigated the menus via familiar icons, switching the operating system to English and then changing the passcode.
Time wasted, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity to have a means of contacting the outside world. AKA his friends.
With a new disguise that would help him blend in better, Idris returned to the stairwell and headed upward to the roof level, exiting and stiffening at the sight of two soldiers having a cigarette while looking over the edge.
While the clothing helped Idris fit in, if anyone spotted him, his subterfuge would fail the moment he opened his mouth.
Hopefully, he could avoid talking to anyone.
The two men having a smoke glanced his way but didn’t react and just as quickly returned to street-watching. Phew. He’d worried his skin color would immediately give him away. The gloom of late afternoon must have helped.
The chopper sat in the middle of the roof, its blades spinning lazily, the glass of the cockpit showing the pilot with a clipboard, doing a preflight check. Idris sweated bullets as he neared the chopper’s open door. Any moment someone would yell or shoot. Any second he’d get caught.
He boarded without issue and immediately headed for the rear, ignoring the seats in favor of losing himself amidst the cargo. Would anyone be checking the interior before they took off? Fingers crossed they didn’t.
As he crouched amidst the supplies, the phone in his pocket vibrated. A glance at the screen showed a text in Russian. A copy and paste into a search window translated it. It turned out to be a group-sent message.
American doctor shortly departing on the helicopter. Prisoners en route to the secure location. All those not assigned to the convoy are to continue seeking the Canadian.
Levy wasn’t giving up. A good thing he was leaving town.
Of course, Idris would have preferred to do it in better company and via a less stressful means of transport.
Hopefully the doctor didn’t have any therianthropes on board because they’d likely smell the nervous sweat pearling all over his body.
The helicopter motor hummed louder as the blades began gathering speed. The din almost masked the approach of at least two people. He only realized he had company because of the indistinct murmur of voices.
He huddled tight in his corner and prayed. Not to a Christian god but rather the one Svetlana told him about. Veles. The deity for shapeshifting bears, who hopefully wouldn’t mind a non-Russian asking for aid.
“While I appreciate you doubling the manpower, I doubt you’ll find Patient Seventy-six now,” shouted Levy as he boarded the chopper. “Chances are he’s fled the area now that we’ve captured his allies.”
A clipped voice replied, “Wherever he goes, we will find him.” Seemed like Levy had found himself a more capable translator.
“Unless he crosses the border.”
“I can promise he won’t be leaving Russia. We’ve increased surveillance of the border and the crossings. If he attempts to leave the country, they will get him.”