Read Online The Ajax Protocol-7 by Alex Lukeman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alex Lukeman
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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to them," Elizabeth said.
CHAPTER 17
Vysotsky's investigators had uncovered the scorched remains of a device in the ruins of the Central Bank of Novosibirsk, a receiver for the signal that had driven the city mad. There was no way to know who had made it. On the other hand, it hadn't taken long to identify and arrest the person who had placed it. He was a bank teller with financial problems.
Korov had come to interrogate him. The prisoner was being held in a military prison built in the days of the Czar. It wasn't far from the old Lubyanka prison in central Moscow. Like the Lubyanka, it was not a place anyone wanted to find themselves. The massive building was made out of stone. The walls were cold and rough and sweated during the hot days of a Moscow summer. In winter, the cells were freezing.
The prison was run by the GRU, the Glavnoye Razvedyvatel'noye Upravleniye, Military Intelligence. SVR and GRU had a long standing relationship of mutual cooperation. No one asked any unnecessary questions. No one was very concerned with the welfare of the prisoner. You didn't come to this place because someone was looking out for your welfare.
"This way, Colonel."
Korov's escort was a brutish Senior Sergeant named Grigorev. He smelled of garlic and looked like a man who spent too much time in places with no sunlight. His skin was pale and he needed a shave. His face was dark with shadow, even though it was early in the afternoon.
To reach the cells, everyone went through a passage guarded by iron gates that had served the same purpose before the October revolution. Korov and his escort waited as each one clanked open in turn and closed behind them. They descended worn steps to the lower level. The steps opened onto a hallway lined with dozens of faceless iron doors with numbers.
Grigorev stopped in front of number 17. The door had been painted green, long ago. The paint was chipped and scarred. A narrow slot allowed the passage of food into the cell. A circular viewport covered with a movable shield let the jailer observe the prisoner.
Korov slid the metal covering aside and peered in. There was no window in the stone room. Light came from one dim bulb hung somewhere high above. The floor was of stone. In the far corner of the room a foul hole lined with dried excrement served as a toilet. A thin mattress marred by dark stains was laid on the floor. It was the only thing in the room except for the man lying on it.
The prisoner's hair was matted with blood. His arm rested at an odd angle where it lay across his chest. His mouth was open as his breath rasped in and out. The mouth was bloody. Several teeth were missing. His eyes were blackened, swollen and closed.
"What happened to him?" Korov said.
Grigorev shrugged. "He was unruly. We had to teach him the rules."
"Ah."
Korov concealed his distaste and reminded himself that this prisoner was a traitor.
"Open the door."
Grigorev placed an old fashioned key made of heavy metal into the lock and turned. The door swung open.
"Prisoner! Stand!" Grigorev shouted at the man.
The man's name was Litvenenko. He tried to raise himself on one arm and fell back against the mattress.
Grigorev moved toward him but Korov laid a hand on his arm.
"It's alright. I don't think he can stand up. I'll talk to him there."
"As you wish, Colonel."
Korov stepped into the cell. The prisoner had soiled himself. Korov held his finger under his nose as the stench of the man and the filth hit him.
Korov squatted down beside Litvenenko. "I am Colonel Korov. I am your only hope. Do you understand?"
Litvenenko opened an eye.
"Do you understand?" Korov said again.
"Da. Understand." The voice was hoarse, choked with phlegm.
"Good. I will only ask a question once. If you lie, I'll know it. If you lie, I'll leave you in the care of Sergeant Grigorev. Do you understand?"
Korov saw the fear in the man's eyes. He hated this, but it had to be done. He had to know who had bribed this
CHAPTER 17
Vysotsky's investigators had uncovered the scorched remains of a device in the ruins of the Central Bank of Novosibirsk, a receiver for the signal that had driven the city mad. There was no way to know who had made it. On the other hand, it hadn't taken long to identify and arrest the person who had placed it. He was a bank teller with financial problems.
Korov had come to interrogate him. The prisoner was being held in a military prison built in the days of the Czar. It wasn't far from the old Lubyanka prison in central Moscow. Like the Lubyanka, it was not a place anyone wanted to find themselves. The massive building was made out of stone. The walls were cold and rough and sweated during the hot days of a Moscow summer. In winter, the cells were freezing.
The prison was run by the GRU, the Glavnoye Razvedyvatel'noye Upravleniye, Military Intelligence. SVR and GRU had a long standing relationship of mutual cooperation. No one asked any unnecessary questions. No one was very concerned with the welfare of the prisoner. You didn't come to this place because someone was looking out for your welfare.
"This way, Colonel."
Korov's escort was a brutish Senior Sergeant named Grigorev. He smelled of garlic and looked like a man who spent too much time in places with no sunlight. His skin was pale and he needed a shave. His face was dark with shadow, even though it was early in the afternoon.
To reach the cells, everyone went through a passage guarded by iron gates that had served the same purpose before the October revolution. Korov and his escort waited as each one clanked open in turn and closed behind them. They descended worn steps to the lower level. The steps opened onto a hallway lined with dozens of faceless iron doors with numbers.
Grigorev stopped in front of number 17. The door had been painted green, long ago. The paint was chipped and scarred. A narrow slot allowed the passage of food into the cell. A circular viewport covered with a movable shield let the jailer observe the prisoner.
Korov slid the metal covering aside and peered in. There was no window in the stone room. Light came from one dim bulb hung somewhere high above. The floor was of stone. In the far corner of the room a foul hole lined with dried excrement served as a toilet. A thin mattress marred by dark stains was laid on the floor. It was the only thing in the room except for the man lying on it.
The prisoner's hair was matted with blood. His arm rested at an odd angle where it lay across his chest. His mouth was open as his breath rasped in and out. The mouth was bloody. Several teeth were missing. His eyes were blackened, swollen and closed.
"What happened to him?" Korov said.
Grigorev shrugged. "He was unruly. We had to teach him the rules."
"Ah."
Korov concealed his distaste and reminded himself that this prisoner was a traitor.
"Open the door."
Grigorev placed an old fashioned key made of heavy metal into the lock and turned. The door swung open.
"Prisoner! Stand!" Grigorev shouted at the man.
The man's name was Litvenenko. He tried to raise himself on one arm and fell back against the mattress.
Grigorev moved toward him but Korov laid a hand on his arm.
"It's alright. I don't think he can stand up. I'll talk to him there."
"As you wish, Colonel."
Korov stepped into the cell. The prisoner had soiled himself. Korov held his finger under his nose as the stench of the man and the filth hit him.
Korov squatted down beside Litvenenko. "I am Colonel Korov. I am your only hope. Do you understand?"
Litvenenko opened an eye.
"Do you understand?" Korov said again.
"Da. Understand." The voice was hoarse, choked with phlegm.
"Good. I will only ask a question once. If you lie, I'll know it. If you lie, I'll leave you in the care of Sergeant Grigorev. Do you understand?"
Korov saw the fear in the man's eyes. He hated this, but it had to be done. He had to know who had bribed this
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