Rasputin's Bastards

THE HONEST THIEF

Leo Montassini met Alexei at the main door to the lighthouse. He was holding a rifle, but not like he was seriously going to shoot. Fuck — it was Kilodovich! “How the fuck you doin’?” he demanded.

Alexei looked at him sidelong. “The guy,” he said, “from the tank?”

Montassini grinned. “You’re back!” he said.

“Yeah,” said Alexei. He stepped inside with the rest of them. Heather stepped into the shadow of the door, just out of sight.

That is a good instinct, whispered Kolyokov. Kilodovich is on a rampage.

“A—” Heather swallowed, and thought the question: A rampage? He’s got a baby in his arms and looks like he’s just about dead.

No, said Kolyokov. He’s doing what he was made to do. But I don’t know that anyone is telling him. This is very dangerous.

Heather moved back further into the shadow. She wasn’t about to question Kolyokov’s assessment any more. After all, the last few times that the baby Vladimir and Alexei had hooked up, things hadn’t exactly gone swimmingly for Heather or the rest of Holden Gibson’s crew.

Alexei and Montassini were talking quietly as they walked into the round room at the base of the tower. The baby Vladimir was peering around with wide, nervous eyes. They passed near them.

So what should we do to ge —

Your mantra, said Kolyokov. Now!

Mi, thought Heather at once. Mi mi mi mi.

Alexei Kilodovich started up the stairs first, while Montassini continued: “He’s upstairs. We got the fucker tied up like nothin’ else. You aren’t gonna fuckin’—”

And that was all Heather heard. Pushed by Fyodor Kolyokov’s hurried urgency, she stepped out the door and into the New Pokrovskoye night.