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Authors: Rami Yudovin

Wind in the Hands (9 page)

BOOK: Wind in the Hands
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“Look, buddy, we’ve served together. Let’s drink to sort of…” the Soldier addressed the agent and as if accidentally spilt vodka over an inexpensive but good quality suit of the agent.

The agent tried to push the ‘drunkard’ away, but the Soldier managed to read the blow direction by the movement of the shoulder, moved in the opposite direction, and seeming to lose his balance, grasped the man with a small headphone in the ear by the hand. And he saw that…

“Sorry, buddy. A mistake. Was contused. You are kid still, couldn’t have served with you,” the Soldier muttered without looking at him with his head lowered.

Another security agent was approaching.

“Cheers, man,” said the Soldier drunkenly, moving atilt with his bottle raised, and slowly moved toward the toilet, being fully certain that several pairs of distrustful eyes were looking at his back. Having rinsed his face with water, he took out his mobile. Found a necessary number from the list and called.

The Stranger woke up early in the morning and went to the balcony not to disturb the sleeping woman.

He startled when he heard his mobile phone ring but seeing the displayed number smiled, waited a second, and pressed the answer button.

“Hi. What’s happened?”

“They are waiting for us at the railway station. They have our photos. Where are you?”

“In the Tower. Come.”

The door swung open and two strong guys entered the toilet.

“Sobered up?” one of them addressed the Soldier.

They were gazing at him, these fighters ready to instantaneously attack. The agent took out photographs.

“Know them?”

The Soldier, peering in the photographs, shouted wildly:

“That’s my buddy, battled together. He was killed, my trusted friend, treacherously, in the back!”

Tears were running down his face. He recollected a real case from his life and tears were almost sincere. The agents did not expect the performance, were at a loss for several seconds, and relaxed. This was enough. The agents were not wearing safety vests and the Soldier sharply made an uppercut in the celiac plexus with the maximum strength allowed by his hip and shoulder, and hit the other one who did not have time to react with his right hand on the jaw. The security employee staggered, swayed and started to fall onto his back, but the Soldier caught him to prevent him breaking his back against the tiled floor. He unfastened handcuffs from the agent’s belt, cuffed their hands behind their backs fast and pushed them into a bathroom stall. Fetched the photographs and read their IDs.

“Breathe deeper, secret war warrior,” he said to the agent who was convulsively swallowing air.

The Soldier ignited toilet paper, threw it in the dustbin and left the toilet shouting: “Fire! All is on fire!” People panicked, a fire siren went off. He ran outside unnoticed in that turmoil and dived in a taxi.

About half an hour later he was greeted by the worried Stranger in the Tower hotel lounge.

“You look well in pictures,” the Soldier grinned slightly pointing at photograph.

“The Seer,” the Stranger drawled. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to go to him,” the Soldier reminded gloomily.

“Just think, he set agents on us. They were in ambush directly at the railway station. After I deprived them of the right to exclusively use our photos, the railway station is a taboo.”

“I hope you have killed or mutilated no one?” the Stranger did not find it funny.

“What if so!” the Soldier seemed to be mortally hurt. “I was insulted when I saw our photographs held by others. Maybe they decided to earn on our glory. It’s not good. I ask, by what right? I didn’t give permission to be shot. I made a scandal and they decided not to deal with me and returned the photographs without litigation.”

“You must write fairy tales! Remember, violence pays back. It’s not our way,” the Stranger said thoughtfully. “By the way the Seer can find the hotel. We have to leave.”

“Can the Seer find our location at any time?”

“I think yes. Wait here. I need to speed up someone.”

“Found one more companion?”

“A woman, living in the City. She’ll give us shelter,” the Stranger said going out.

The Soldier followed him with his eyes, “You would never tell he is this type by looking at him.”

The Stranger entered the room, sat down on the bed beside a sweetly wheezing woman.

“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty.”

“Sleeping beauties are kissed to wake up,” she muttered without opening her eyes.

“I’d love too, but you haven’t brushed your teeth,” the Stranger said moving away just in case.

“What?” the Medium jumped up pulling the blanket up.

“Well, no kiss and you are awake. My comrade has come. We have a small trouble. I’m waiting for you in the lounge. Just don’t be slow.”

Closing the door, he pressed against the wall: “I’m not in the City yet, and it has started. The Soldier used force to take away the photographs, most likely there are casualties. I don’t like that at all and it is going to be worse.” He wanted to quit and run away without looking back. Having prayed, he understood that desire was impermissible weakness and slowly went down to the lounge. The Soldier was standing near the window and looking at the road.

“Who is she?” he asked the Stranger who came up to him without turning.

“Medium.”

“A medium? A guide between the world of the dead and the living?”

“No this is her name.”

“So, I’ve heard about her. What sort of acquaintances you have,” the Soldier grinned bewildered. “She is a close friend of the Seer. She can’t be trusted.”

“We live in the time when we cannot trust ourselves,” the Stranger smiled remembering an old joke.

The Medium came up.

“This is Soldier,” the Stranger introduced his comrade.

“I can see he is no general,” she said drily.

“This is Medium,” the Stranger uttered meaningfully.

“I can see she is not a kind fairy,” despite the outer beauty of the woman, the Soldier found something repelling in her. Her eyes were strong and searching but without kindness.

“Glad you are friends now,” the Stranger joked to clear the air. “Let’s talk business.”

The Soldier looked at the woman askance once again, displeased.

“Here are photos I have taken from the agents. The Seer knew about our plans and passed the photographs to the security with the only purpose to detain us.”

“Are you sure you know what you are talking about?” the Medium looked at him surprised.

“I can answer for every word,” the Soldier rapped out firmly.

“He is right,” the Stranger supported him. “We’ll think over the Seer’s reasons later. Now we must think how to get to the City doing without the railway.”

“I’ll call the Seer and find out what is going on,” the Medium suggested. She was apparently upset.

“People like Seer never act rashly. He knows what he is doing,” the Stranger said.

“Maybe he is right and you shouldn’t go to the City. The Seer really knows what he is talking about. He couldn’t convince you and resorted to security agents, although I categorically against cooperation with these people,” the Medium was watching him warily.

“The Seer is a great man but he is only human and thinks in human categories. And I have heard the voice other than human that is why I’m going to the City. You can leave me,” the Stranger said calmly but firmly.

“Your power has shattered the Seer,” the Soldier rapped out again. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve seen you and I’ve seen him. I’m with you.”

“I need to talk with the Seer,” the Medium insisted.

“It’s your right,” the Stranger smiled. “Call him.”

“This is silly,” the Soldier whispered. “She will betray us.”

“Let’s step away. Let’s not interfere,” the Stranger asked him and added confidently: “she will not betray us. The Seer can find us without her help.”

“You are too trusting,” the Soldier sounded doubtful.

The Medium moved away and dialed the number, several minutes passed before the Seer answered.

“Glad to hear you, baby. I’ve been thinking about you. You wanted to pop in, didn’t you?” he said amiably.

“Have I woken you up?”

“I’m not sleeping. What’s wrong?” the Seer caught anxiety in the voice of his friend.

“Do you know the Stranger?”

“Who is this?” the Seer asked her as indifferently as possible, but his heart started to beat violently.

“He and his companion visited you yesterday.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw them leave your house. Got to know one of them. The Stranger is a very interesting person. Such people are not to be hurt, it’s dangerous,” the Medium reminded him.

“It is he who is dangerous,” the Seer said coarsely. “And he doesn’t understand the weapon he has.”

“And why have you set your dogs on him?”

“I have asked them not to make any harm to him. By the way, his friend has sent two agents to hospital. And that’s without mentioning the Stranger’s abilities. I think if he finds his way to the City, the consequences will be most unpredictable,” the Seer wanted understanding.

“When did you start to care for the world’s destiny?” the Medium sounded mocking.

“Don’t forget who you are, girl,” he stopped her. “Remember who you are talking with. I won’t ask you to help to detain them, but I beg you, keep away from them.”

He put down the receiver, feeling irritated. His doubts evaporated. The Seer saw a pattern.

“Why is she with him? What is going on? A mere chance? Natural development of a programmed event? A mechanism of which the Stranger is a part has been activated? But this mechanism is dangerous for people as it can trigger forces that will make many people suffer. But aren’t there disasters and wars I care about no more than others? Why am I worried? What can the Stranger do? Destroy the City? No. Certainly, not. Although there were times when such people provoked the strongest earthquakes. Even so, what do I care? If the City is destined to be destroyed, let it be destroyed and no matter the reason. Why have I turned against him? No reasonable explanation,” suddenly the Seer had a strange idea: “and what if I’m programmed to resist him?” This thought made him unwell. He did not want to consider that version as he thought himself an independent individual.

“Run away, run away from this land of prophets and quacks. Forget everything!”

He imagined how he left the country and forgot about the Stranger, and felt he was losing his power. Panic was slowly overwhelming him. “I can’t act otherwise. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

He lay down on the floor and a tear of powerless despair ran down his cheek onto the cedar parquet floor.

After her conversation with the Seer, the Medium smoked a cigarette and closed her eyes.

“What’s happening?” the Stranger asked.

“Strange,” she said exhaling smoke. “I don’t recognize the Seer. He finds you dangerous.”

“For whom?”

“For me too,” she drawled.

“Are you with us? Then hurry up,” the Soldier interfered addressing the woman.

“I don’t know yet, but definitely not against you,” the Medium answered.

“First thing you must do is to change your looks, remove the beard and have your hair cut,” the Soldier hinted the Stranger.

“And what about you? Grow hair and beard in several minutes. That’s what you were taught?” the Stranger tried to joke but no one smiled.

“I’ll handle this. Not tanned skin will show up after you shave, take her tinting cream. Do not look sullen, that’s for business. You don’t want to break enemies, do you? Then walk unnoticed. Can you help him at least here?” the Soldier asked the woman.

“Sure. Let’s go to the room,” she took the Stranger by his hand and drew him after her.

The Soldier went to the men’s room in the hotel lounge. He took out a wig, put it on his close cut balding head, placed elegant spectacles with non- myopic glasses on the nose, glued on moustache and beard, took off his coat and tucked it in the bag. Took off his trousers and sharply turned them out, they were double-sided: one side was dark grey and the other light blue; he was seen wearing the first version. He stretched his shoulders.

“I need to be several centimeters shorter. Will have to slouch a bit.”

Chapter 12 The Tower

After the conversation with his friend, the Seer sat down in the armchair and started to tune onto the Stranger’s image trying to locate him but could not. He was either anxious, such tasks required complete confidence in own power, or the Stranger was closed, and that could happen, although rarely. The Seer easily tuned on the image of his friend and now just had to look where she was.

He saw lifts, glass doors, a bar, and rooms. “They are in a hotel. Could have guessed at once,” the Seer complained. He called the servant and in a couple of minutes had a printout with all nearest hotels. There were only six hotels in the list. The Seer circled the Tower and called his acquaintance.

“Good afternoon. I know where they are. Can you dispatch your people to the Tower hotel?”

“Good afternoon, my friend,” the Functionary started to peak hesitantly. “You see, it has become a bit complicated. We’ve found the fingerprints of the man who made a performance at the railway station. They belong to an officer of the General Army Headquarters. By the way, he is one of the best and a very distinguished man. We cannot impose administrative arrest; our authority does not apply to the people of this level. If he has a criminal record, you can call the police and they will take care of him.”

“I see. I’m not interested in that one, I want the other man.”

“The one with a beard?” the Functionary asked to be sure.

“Yes. I need him. If possible, detain him, but I repeat, do it gently,” the Seer emphasized the last word.

“Ok. We can detain him. He is not connected with government authorities, is he? Or maybe I don’t have some information?”

“No, he isn’t. He can be related to some authorities higher than the government ones,” the Seer answered gloomily.

“With whom? Oh, I see…” the Functionary sounded ironic. “I don’t care about this. I’m sending my people to the Tower.”

BOOK: Wind in the Hands
11.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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