Read Online Arctic Gold by Stephen Coonts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephen Coonts
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Americans, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Espionage, Intelligence Officers, Kidnapping, spy stories, Russia (Federation), Dean; Charlie (Fictitious character), Americans - Russia (Federation)
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weren’t
in with the mafia, they might be soon, once the word went out on the street that the two Americans had escaped. It could be a pretext to rob the two of them. Or
He glanced at Lia. She was
a most attractive woman. These two bastards might have something else in mind besides money.
The watch phrase for all intelligence agents was lowkey. You never called attention to yourself, and kept a carefully tailored and very low profile. Still, there were times when it paid to be as loud and as obnoxious as possible.
He folded his arms belligerently. I’m not goin’anywhere, fella! he bellowed, his voice echoing from the
walls of nearby buildings. I know my rights! I am a citizen of the United States of America, and you can’t tell me where to go or what to do!
Startled, both MVD guards took an awkward step back. Akulinin stepped forward, crowding them, jabbing an angry forefinger at them both. Their English probably wasn’t up to deciphering more than a word in three, but it was clear that Akulinin emotion needed no translation.
What kind of country are you running here, anyway? I demand to see the American consul! I demand to see your commanding officer! I demand
Psychologically, the tables had turned. The guards still had the assault rifles, but the large American, screaming into their faces, had the advantage.
There you are, my friend! a second booming voice called across the pier from the St. Pete 2’
s gangway. What has been keeping you, eh?
James Llewellyn strode toward the customs checkpoint, an impressive figure in a heavy trench coat and a goatee that Lenin himself would have been proud of. Llewellyn was in his sixties, with a deeply lined and weathered face, but he moved with surprising strength and self- assurance. One of the MVD guards turned, raising his weapon, apparently grateful for the interruption, and barked, Stoy!
Llewellyn, Akulinin knew, was Welshnormally he worked for the National Security Agency at the Menwith Station in Yorkshirebut his Russian was excellent. More, his understanding of Russian psychology was excellent.
Nyeh kulturnii! he snapped at the guard in Russian. Do you know who I am?
He waved an open wallet at them, presumably flashing an ID. Both MVD guards came sharply to attention.
For the next five minutes, Llewellyn reamed both
guards a variety of new bodily orifices. In his role as an American tourist, Akulinin had to pretend he didn’t understand a word, but he listened with genuine admiration as Llewellyncode name Mercutiodiscussed in vivid detail the guards’ mysterious parentage, lack of breeding, improper upbringing, nonexistent education, subhuman intelligence, and utter lack of culture, never once repeating himself and never once actually telling the two just exactly who he was supposed to be. The Russian syllables, thick as glue, flowed from his lips in an uninterrupted and uninterruptible torrent.
These are my friends! he said at last, gesturing at Lia and Akulinin. My very special friends! They are coming with me! Vih panimayiti?
Da, grahjdaneen! both guards stammered. Panimayu!
Get your papers, Llewellyn said in English, still glaring at the two guards as if he could nail them in place by sheer force of personality. Start for the ship.
Lia snatched up passports and ID, then touched Akulinin shoulder. Move it! she said, her voice a harsh whisper. Together, they walked past the checkpoint, past the pier facility with its shabby hotel and gift shop, and onto the wharf. As they walked up the pier toward the gangway, Akulinin felt an intolerable itch building between his shoulder blades; if the guards decided to start shooting
Llewellyn remained to have a few more choice words with the MVD guards. When Akulinin glanced back, he saw a sheaf of Russian currency changing hands as Llewellyn paid their tax. He then turned and strode after them, his trench coat billowing after him like a cape.
Once on board the ship, Akulinin allowed himself to begin to relax. Was that a shakedown?
in with the mafia, they might be soon, once the word went out on the street that the two Americans had escaped. It could be a pretext to rob the two of them. Or
He glanced at Lia. She was
a most attractive woman. These two bastards might have something else in mind besides money.
The watch phrase for all intelligence agents was lowkey. You never called attention to yourself, and kept a carefully tailored and very low profile. Still, there were times when it paid to be as loud and as obnoxious as possible.
He folded his arms belligerently. I’m not goin’anywhere, fella! he bellowed, his voice echoing from the
walls of nearby buildings. I know my rights! I am a citizen of the United States of America, and you can’t tell me where to go or what to do!
Startled, both MVD guards took an awkward step back. Akulinin stepped forward, crowding them, jabbing an angry forefinger at them both. Their English probably wasn’t up to deciphering more than a word in three, but it was clear that Akulinin emotion needed no translation.
What kind of country are you running here, anyway? I demand to see the American consul! I demand to see your commanding officer! I demand
Psychologically, the tables had turned. The guards still had the assault rifles, but the large American, screaming into their faces, had the advantage.
There you are, my friend! a second booming voice called across the pier from the St. Pete 2’
s gangway. What has been keeping you, eh?
James Llewellyn strode toward the customs checkpoint, an impressive figure in a heavy trench coat and a goatee that Lenin himself would have been proud of. Llewellyn was in his sixties, with a deeply lined and weathered face, but he moved with surprising strength and self- assurance. One of the MVD guards turned, raising his weapon, apparently grateful for the interruption, and barked, Stoy!
Llewellyn, Akulinin knew, was Welshnormally he worked for the National Security Agency at the Menwith Station in Yorkshirebut his Russian was excellent. More, his understanding of Russian psychology was excellent.
Nyeh kulturnii! he snapped at the guard in Russian. Do you know who I am?
He waved an open wallet at them, presumably flashing an ID. Both MVD guards came sharply to attention.
For the next five minutes, Llewellyn reamed both
guards a variety of new bodily orifices. In his role as an American tourist, Akulinin had to pretend he didn’t understand a word, but he listened with genuine admiration as Llewellyncode name Mercutiodiscussed in vivid detail the guards’ mysterious parentage, lack of breeding, improper upbringing, nonexistent education, subhuman intelligence, and utter lack of culture, never once repeating himself and never once actually telling the two just exactly who he was supposed to be. The Russian syllables, thick as glue, flowed from his lips in an uninterrupted and uninterruptible torrent.
These are my friends! he said at last, gesturing at Lia and Akulinin. My very special friends! They are coming with me! Vih panimayiti?
Da, grahjdaneen! both guards stammered. Panimayu!
Get your papers, Llewellyn said in English, still glaring at the two guards as if he could nail them in place by sheer force of personality. Start for the ship.
Lia snatched up passports and ID, then touched Akulinin shoulder. Move it! she said, her voice a harsh whisper. Together, they walked past the checkpoint, past the pier facility with its shabby hotel and gift shop, and onto the wharf. As they walked up the pier toward the gangway, Akulinin felt an intolerable itch building between his shoulder blades; if the guards decided to start shooting
Llewellyn remained to have a few more choice words with the MVD guards. When Akulinin glanced back, he saw a sheaf of Russian currency changing hands as Llewellyn paid their tax. He then turned and strode after them, his trench coat billowing after him like a cape.
Once on board the ship, Akulinin allowed himself to begin to relax. Was that a shakedown?
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