There was very little that ever surprised Anna Chutesov. But when she saw the two men sitting with the current Russian president, she felt her brow sink.
One was a big man. Tall, with no neck and a large belly that seemed to go from pelvis to chin without taking the time to form a chest. In comparison, the other man was small, although his wide cherub's face and rounded body gave him the appearance of a teddy bear come to life.
Both men had led Russia at different times. The smaller one had accidentally taken the country away from the Communists. The larger one had-through corruption and mismanagement-turned it over to criminals.
The latter man had escaped the presidency when no one was looking on New Year's Eve of the new millennium with a presidential pardon and a pair of suitcases crammed to overflowing with American foreign aid. His looted wealth had done nothing to remove him from his path of personal destruction. His skin was waxy, and his crown of white hair crashed in great uneven waves across the top of his big head. Around his ankles three empty vodka bottles rolled with the jostling movements of the wind-tossed plane.
The two former leaders along with Russia's latest president looked up as Anna entered the lounge. The current president quickly got to his feet. "Forgive us for being late," the little man said. "It is not easy to get away these days. I do not believe introductions are necessary." He held a small hand out to the other two men.
The bigger one wasn't even paying attention. He was rooting around with one paw under his frayed seat for a fresh bottle. This apparently required all his concentration. He bit down on his jutting tongue.
The other ex-president answered for both of them. "We know Anna Chutesov well," he said soberly. The man scratched his forehead. Even though it was warm enough on the plane, he still wore a hat, pulled down low. Just the bottom of his world-famous winestain birthmark could be seen peeking out from under the wool. The part that Anna could see looked as if it had mutated somehow.
"I decided to check with my predecessors after our last meeting," the current president explained to Anna. "They convinced me that the danger might be greater than I originally feared. For all of us. I have extended presidential protection to them both, for Russia cannot run the risk of appearing weak. If something were to happen to them, it could open us up to even more dire security threats."
Anna didn't bother to tell him that, short of a full-scale nuclear war or a comet flattening Moscow, they were already facing the greatest threat imaginable.
"Presidential protection is an empty phrase," she said. "What we need goes beyond mere words." As she spoke, the first of her entourage began filing into the lounge. The men were so silent Anna had not heard them. She knew they were there only by the look of relief that bloomed on the face of the hatwearing former president.
The current president raised an eyebrow, as if he had expected more.
"Are they good?" he asked.
"They are trained," Anna replied.
"They had better be," the ex-president with the hat said. "It is bad enough when vandals can break into your house in the dead of night and permanently disfigure you. Now I find out my life might be in danger." His pudgy fingers scratched once more at his birthmark.
When his hat shifted, Anna could see that the mark now resembled the number one.
"Forgive me, Mr. President," Anna said frostily, "but I would remind you that it is you who started us down this road more than ten years ago. Pandora's box has been opened now, but you are the one who made certain it was full."
The former president bristled. "Do not forget your contribution in all this," he growled.
Anna's spine stiffened. "I won't," she said. "Nor could I if I tried."
The current president wasn't interested in squabbling. "These men will accompany us back to Moscow," he said, indicating Sergei and the other five. "Four will guard me. I will assign one each to the two of you."
The big bear of a man was oblivious. He was draining dry a half-filled vodka bottle. A shaking hand tapped the last drops onto his eager, bloated tongue.
When the hat-wearing president objected to the inequitable division of guards, Russia's current leader shook his head angrily.
"It is your fault we are even in this predicament," the latest president snapped. "You started us down this road to insanity."
"What I did was for the sake of national security," the ex-president argued.
Anna had heard enough. "Every stupid thing that has ever been done in Russia has been done in the name of national security," she said impatiently. "And I do not have time for this. These are the men you requested. Do whatever you want with them. I am leaving."
Only Anna Chutesov could get away with speaking in such a way to one-let alone three-Russian heads of state.
She turned from the three politicians.
"Be careful," she advised Sergei and the others, knowing the foolishness of the wasted words even as she spoke them.
She hurried through the men and down the side aisle of the plane. At the still open door, her foot sought the ladder. When she turned to climb down, she found that the president had hurried out behind her.
"You still have some new recruits, do you not?" Russia's diminutive leader asked. "You should bring them with you."
Anna almost laughed in his face. The poor fool still didn't understand.
"I will go alone. Skachkov might still listen to me. Where he goes, the others will follow."
Across the crumbling tarmac, Anna's helicopter pilot saw her on the ladder. The wobbling rotors of the Kamov spluttered to life.
"And if he does not listen to reason?"
"Then, Mr. President, we are in real trouble," Anna said somberly. "For the only two men who might be able to stop him will want an explanation, and they will not stop until they get one. And they, unlike Skachkov, have never had any particular loyalty to Russia, its politicians or its spies."
Her final word delivered, Anna began to descend. The president quickly disappeared inside the plane. Anna had barely reached the ground before the ladder was being pulled back inside. The ladder vanished and the door thudded shut. The plane began to taxi almost immediately.
As Anna ran toward her waiting helicopter, the Ilyushin's engines whined in pain and the four big turboprops began to drag the plane slowly forward. Accelerating rapidly, it reached the end of the runway by the time she made it to her helicopter. Engines screaming, it was pulling into the air as she climbed aboard the Kamov. A thin stream of white smoke trailed the presidential plane into the cold sky. Anna's helicopter rose from the battered runway a moment later. As the Ilyushin banked toward Moscow, the helicopter turned east.
A military flight in Tambov would bring her as far across Russian Asia as the Kamchatka Peninsula. Another Kamov would be waiting for her there.
Settling back in her seat, Anna Chutesov pulled off her hood and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her heavy coat.
The three Russian politicians had been given the illusion of safety. Anna Chutesov had no such illusions.
She was flying into the grinning teeth of Death himself. And though she had cheated him before, she had her doubts that she could succeed this time. After all, if she was right, this time Death would come to Anna Chutesov wearing a familiar face.
She closed her eyes. Despite the din of the rotor blades, Anna quickly fell asleep. For the time being, there was nothing else for her to do.
Chapter 14
Instead of offering an igloo control tower and a terminal staffed by walruses and polar bears, the Fairbanks Airport proved to be as modern as any Remo had ever visited.
Outside, the climate left a lot to be desired.
"It's kind of chilly," he commented as he and Chiun walked through the parking lot to pick up their rented Jeep. "I think we might be underdressed."
The cold wind made the hair on Remo's bare arms stand on end. He looked down at his flimsy cotton T-shirt and tan chinos. His pants flapped in the subzero wind.
The Master of Sinanju nodded agreement. "Our current attire would be sufficient for a short trip," he said. "However, we do not know how long this will take. We should plan for an extended stay."
They were at their rental car. Remo popped the locks with a button on the key chain.
"Got you covered," Remo said as they climbed inside the Jeep. "Two sets of Admiral Bird casual outerwear coming up."