Comrade Zhirinsky was right. Openness fed weakness. The Americans were too trusting. And for that, Master Lavrenty thought, they would pay dearly.
Huge tarpaulins-lashed down with heavy rope and chains-hid the vehicle's cargo from view. Even so, the long cylindrical outline was visible beneath the dirty tarps.
Lavrenty and the others stayed to the shadows. On cautious, gliding feet they approached the truck. The street was empty. Other than the rattling of the tarpaulins, the only sound came from a tiny scrap of paper that flapped in the wind under the windshield wiper of the truck's flat-nosed cab.
Lavrenty wore his goggles and white mask. He pulled them off now as he crept up the side of the truck. Cold wind stirred his short hair.
Unlike the rest, Lavrenty carried no gun. With one bare knuckle, he tapped twice on the driver's-side door.
A startled grunt came from inside. Fingers fumbled the lock and the door popped open.
The face that appeared looked ill.
Ivan Kerbabaev's head was wrapped in bandages. A big wad of blood-soaked gauze was plastered to the spot where his nose should have been. Lavrenty noted that there was no bump beneath. The bandages ran below Ivan's eyes, tied sloppily at the back of his head.
Ivan hitched the cotton dressing up around his right ear as he climbed down to the cold street.
"Are all your men here?" Zhirinsky's aide mumbled.
Speaking obviously caused him pain. When Ivan winced, the twitching caused his bloody bandages to bunch.
"My men are all around you," Skachkov said, uninterested in Ivan's discomfort.
A wave of his hand brought the other commandos out of hiding. They had been lurking along the shadowed walls of the nearby buildings. At his signal, they faded up out of the darkness on either side of the road, stepping into the cold amber light cast by the streetlamps.
"What about the bissing ben?" Ivan said, struggling with the words.
"Not yet," Lavrenty said. "And those sent after Comrade Zhirinsky's...souvenirs have not reported in yet, either. However, I am not concerned. No doubt it is a communications problem. They understand the plan and where they need to be. They will arrive before the night is over."
"Berry well," Ivan said. He seemed more concerned with his own pain than with the missing men. "The rest of our men will be arriving from Russia soon. You will be coordinating with dem when dey land."
Lavrenty's spine stiffened. "Do not call them 'our' men," he said. "My men are here. Whatever else may come, they are inferior to us."
Ivan seemed not interested in the least in the whitehaired man's disdainful words. He was shifting his bandages at his ears once more. He squinted at the fresh pain.
Lavrenry exhaled impatience at the pathetic little man.
"Is the warhead armed?" he spit.
Ivan's shaking hand scurried to his face. He cast a frightened eye back along the length of the truck. The tarpaulins continued to rattle in the wind.
"Yes," he said uncertainly. "I will contact the media as soon as your positions are secure."
As he spoke, a fresh gust of wind grabbed the scrap of paper under the truck's wiper, slapping it angrily against the glass. Lavrenty's face puckered in annoyance.
"What is that?" he asked. Reaching up, he plucked the paper free.
"A parking ticket," Ivan replied. "Comrade Zhirinsky did not give me any change for the meter." At their leader's name, Ivan winced once more. Offering a fresh look of disgust, Lavrenty wadded up the ticket, throwing it to the street. The wind took it, sweeping it off down the road, away from the trailer and its radioactive cargo.
Chapter 26
Anna Chutesov's helicopter whipped over plains of snow. With whining purpose it screamed toward Fairbanks. In the back Remo's expression was dark.
"Who's watching your nuclear secrets over there, Bill Richardson?" he snapped at Anna. "With all you've got invested in that bum-twaddle program of yours, you'd think you'd at least lock your bombs in a KGB closet somewhere like you did with Hitler's brain."
"Crime is rampant in Russia," Anna explained, her own face grave. "Anything can be had for a price."
"You've got a lot to learn about selective control of criminals," Remo grumbled. "The trick is to cave to them on all the small stuff. That way the medium stuff looks big and they stay away completely from the really big stuff. That's the American way."
Anna's expression grew bland. "Thank you, but Russia will handle Russia's crime problems," she said dryly.
"Whizbang job so far, Anna," Remo said. "And at least when our Mafia talks kilos, you know they're measuring cocaine, not tons."
"There is no record of a warhead being stolen from any of our bases."
"Yeah, and the black market's just so good about filling out all the proper forms," he said sarcastically. "And maybe they didn't need to take a whole one. The way things are going over there, maybe they built one from spare parts."
Anna frowned. "There is some record of Boris Feyodov's group being interested in certain technical items. Some could have been used to construct a bomb."
"Could have been?" Remo said. "Anna, Feyodov was the guy who smuggled a Russian particle-beam weapon into California piece by piece, remember?"
She ignored his acid tone. "As I told you, they had been working together."
"Perfect," Remo said. "We're probably flying smack-dab into ground zero."
He glanced at the Master of Sinanju. "We can set down anytime, Little Father," he said. "No sense both of us getting fried."
The old man shook his head. "It is your destiny to face the renegade Master," he intoned solemnly. "Knowing you, you would become distracted by his night tigers and allow him to get away. Or worse. I cannot allow five thousand years of Sinanju history to end because of your flitting mind."
In spite of the words, they both knew the truth. Chiun was worried for Remo. Remo turned back to Anna.
"By the sounds of it, our work's cut out for us," he said. "According to Smith, they took over all the public buildings during the night. Once they took the city hall, their mouthpiece let everyone know about the loose nuke. Smitty had the Army base evacuated out beyond the city limits when they threatened to set it off."
"He would not explode the boom if he wishes to keep this city as a prize," Chiun observed.
"I'm thinking that the nice man who eats people's faces might not be that easy to predict," Remo said. "And we've got a city full of people to worry about up there."
"Not long ago you were willing to sacrifice another city," Chiun suggested. He was looking out the window.
"Those people weren't mine," Remo said, his voice low.
Anna frowned. "I thought your people were in Sinanju."
"They are," Chiun insisted.
"Look, the fact is, I've got people there, people here. I've even got some stashed away on an Indian reservation. I'm up to my armpits in people. Right now I'm an American, and it's my job to protect the people in Fairbanks."