War Drums by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“We have company,” Petrov said into his throat mike.

“Locals?”

“Only if they dress like us and carry automatic weapons.”

“The man Cooper?”

“Maybe. Only there are two of them.”

“Where?”

“Moving in from the south end of town. Kirov, they have done this kind of thing before.”

“Your point?”

“These men are not local poachers. They could make this hard for us.”

“Just think about the money you are earning.”

“I am. And wondering how I might manage to spend it from the grave.”

“Look at it as an exercise for your combat skills.”

“Kirov?”

“Yes?”

“Is it safe and comfortable inside that chopper?”

Petrov cut off, leaving Kirov without someone to shout at.

GREGORI MALINSKI HEARD A voice in the corridor outside his room, urgent, demanding, and most certainly not a Scottish brogue. For a moment he froze, panic seizing him, blind terror that held him motionless. Then he broke the paralysis, turning to snatch up his coat. He crossed the room and pushed open the window, ignoring the cold rain that burst into the room. Malinski stepped out onto the metal fire escape stairs that ran down the outside wall. He had requested this specific room in case a hasty retreat was required, making the excuse he had a phobia. As the hotel had few guests, it was no problem getting what he wanted. Since his breakaway from the desert facility, survival had become his overriding concern. He shrugged into the coat as he descended the metal steps, missing his footing once and almost falling. He grasped the rail at the side to steady himself. The falling rain stung his face, chilling his flesh.

“Gregori Malinski,” a voice called. “You cannot hide from us.”

Malinski didn’t respond. He stepped from the fire escape and ran, angling in the direction of the village main street. He had no idea where he was going. There was nothing except a single thought in his mind: to get away from the men who had come after him.

Nothing else mattered right now. If he failed to outrun them and they captured him, his future would turn bleaker than it seemed to be at the present.

He emerged from the side of the hotel and started across the street until he came to a stop partway across, unsure of his next move. Leaving the village behind presented its own problems. Beyond the straggle of houses and stores the rugged Scottish terrain lay open, hostile, with nothing for him. Malinski still saw it as his only option. He wouldn’t remain in the village and expose the inhabitants to danger. They had done nothing to deserve being placed in the firing line of his troubles. His return to the village had rekindled old friendships. People had remembered him and showed their remembrance by making him welcome. And here he was paying back them back by drawing Anatoly Nevski’s men of violence into their community.

Malinski decided that shouldn’t be allowed to happen and acted with it in mind. Pulling his coat around him, he cut across the street, intending to vacate the village.

“HE’S MOVING NORTH, OUT of the village,” Petrov said into his com set.

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