From Russia with L.U.S.T. by Gardner F. Fox

Author:Gardner F. Fox [Fox, Gardner F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action Adventure, Erotica, femme fatale, Secret agent, Sexpionage, Vintage Sleaze
Publisher: Gardner Francis Fox Library
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter SIX

I walked around Sochi for more than an hour without any result. If Serge Akonov were here, he was damn well hidden. At a quarter to midnight, I gave up the hunt. Being a female, I was near to tears as I retraced my steps to the dingy Summer Palace Hotel. To have come this far, to be so near success, and then to have my companion disappear, was a bit too much. I was uptight. I was ready to scream at shadows.

At the hotel, I asked for the room keys. “Your husband has them," the clerk told me. “He and his friends have already gone up.”

The wave of relief that swept over me at the news that Serge was home safe, was dampened by that mention of his friends. I knew who those friends were, all right: the KGB agents who had spotted Serge and arrested him. Now they were upstairs, waiting for me.

I walked up the stairs, thinking hard. Any normal wife would go the door, knock, and be admitted. Then she would be arrested by the secret police and face a charge along with her husband. I was no wife, so I could not act like one.

In my handbag I still carried the special nail file which I had taken from the baby-faced cameraman, and which was so handy for opening locked doors. I fumbled for it as I stepped onto our floor and moved toward the room where Serge Akonov and the KGB agents awaited my arrival.

One door from my own, I paused to insert the tip of the nail file and wriggle it about. The lock bolt clicked back. Gently I opened the door. The room was dark. I tiptoed across the floor toward the window and lifted it. There was ten feet of stonework between this window and the window of my room. A narrow ledge, maybe four inches wide, ran around the building just under the window. If I stepped out on that and lost my balance, I would fall onto the sidewalk below.

I have taken greater risks. I kicked off my shoes, I slipped out the window and got a toehold on the ledge. I tiptoed my way along the ledge until I was at the bedroom window of our small suite. I leaned over and scratched at the glass.

I waited. I heard voices murmuring, so I scratched again.

The window lifted. A head poked out. My left hand was on the cross-bar of the window above that curious head. With all my might, I shoved downward.

The bottom edge of the window was like a guillotine as it slammed into the back of the KGB man's head. It drove his forehead hard against the sill. He went out like a wet candle.

I moved fast, now. I slid back to the other bedroom window, moved inside, and ran like an Olympic sprinter into the hall. I used the nail file to open my own door.

I slithered into the darkness and stood like a statue.

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