The Red Menace #1 by James Mullaney

Author:James Mullaney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: humor, espionage, action adventure, spy, retro, patiotic
Publisher: James Mullaney

13

Colonel Ivan Strankov felt the familiar little twinge of euphoria that stirred in his belly every time he awoke to the creeping realization that he had not died in his sleep.

Every day was a gift; a new step towards the greatest act of vengeance in the history of the human race. He had been dreaming about his grandparents, about his career, his exile in Siberia, his recent years in Cuba. And, for some reason, the Red Menace.

That was strange. His old enemy was long gone and Strankov had successfully banished him from his mind long ago. So why was the Red Menace so prominent in his thoughts right now? And why, for that matter, was Strankov sleeping sitting up and why could he not move his arms?

Strankov’s eyes slowly fluttered open. He found that he was staring directly into the eyes of a waking nightmare.

“Well it’s about time, Comrade Crapski,” said the Red Menace. “For a minute there I thought you were going to sleep straight through Judgment Day. Which for you, incidentally, is about twenty seconds from now.”

The Menace had drawn up a folding chair and was knee to knee with Strankov in the small supply closet. He was leaning forward so that their faces were two feet apart, and was smiling placidly beneath his glowing red mask.

Strankov lunged, straining at his bonds, but all he managed to do was tip his chair forward. The Red Menace tapped his chest and sent all four chair legs back to the floor. Strankov launched a wild foot forward, but the Menace grabbed the leg by the ankle and shoved the Soviet ccolonel’s foot back down under the wooden folding chair.

“Only girls and commies kick, Strankov,” the Menace instructed.

The Russian colonel bellowed for help but all that passed his purple lips was a pathetic squeak. The Red Menace held up his index finger and Strankov saw the tiny barb that extended from the tip of the gauntlet.

“Light dose. Just the vocal chords,” the Menace said. “You can talk, you just can’t yell. So what should we two old buddies chat about? Hey, I know. How ‘bout you tell me everything about these nukes you’ve parked ninety miles from Florida?”

Strankov bared yellow fangs, as if by sheer will he could rip out the masked man’s throat. “You Americans are so prosaic.”

“I’d probably be insulted if I knew what that meant,” said the Red Menace.

“The MIC agent. Wilson. He is the reason you are here.” Strankov shuffled his feet beneath his chair. The Menace expected him to kick out again, but the fight had apparently drained from his legs. The Russian pulled them together, boot heels nearly touching. “I never thought MIC would be threat any longer. I certainly did not imagine that they would bring you from retirement. I should have been more careful.”

“And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. You were always lousy at the spy stuff, Strankov. The only guy on the planet who didn’t know you were a complete bust was you.

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