"Why?"
Mal'ama looked at him in the dim light. "There are no girls at the base, Amerikanski. Do you understand?"
Carter's jaw tightened. He nodded. "I'll have to hide. Do you have any idea when we can leave?"
"I don't know," she said. "Father says this storm may last for many days yet. We will have to wait and see. In the meantime, stay here. No matter what happens."
Carter nodded.
Mal'ama gazed into his eyes. "One day I too will kill Russians," she said. She turned on her heel and left the room.
Carter waited for a moment or two, then he went to the door and listened. He had not been out of this room since he had arrived, but he had been told that this was the main building in the village. The elders lived here with their families, village meetings were held here, and supplies and equipment that were communal to the village were kept here. It was the only two-story building in the village of 150 people.
He could hear someone talking, but it was very faint and indistinct. It came from somewhere below. He opened the door a crack and looked out.
His room was on the second floor, apparently at the rear of the big building. A balcony ran in front of his door off to a wide set of stairs down into the central chamber that was dominated by a huge stone fireplace. The atmosphere in the big room seemed smoky. The talking came from downstairs.
Keeping to the shadows, Carter left his room and moved slowly to the edge of the balcony, behind a large supporting post, so that he could see down into the main room.
There were a half-dozen villagers below in addition to Mal'ama and Na'tukt. Two Soviet border guard soldiers in uniform, green piping on their collars, were there as well. They were obviously drunk. They were both armed.
"We're spy chasers," one of them said.
The other one laughed. "Yes, and we're thirsty and very, very cold." He reached out and roughly felt Na'tukt's breasts. She didn't move.
"Nice," he said. "I was told about you."
The first one waved his Kalashnikov assault rifle vaguely toward the doors. "All right, the rest of you get out of here now. It is time for our own meeting. In private."
One of the village elders stepped forward. "Excuse me, sir, but your base commander has said…"
"What are you saying?" the soldier barked. The border guards were a division of the KGB. Carter's jaw was clenched, his muscles bunched up.
"I'm truly sorry, sir…"
"Get out of here!" the soldier continued, furious. "Get out of here and keep your filthy peasant mouth shut or you'll never see these little pieces again. They won't be fit for fish bait!"
The men backed up, then turned without a backward glance and trooped out the door into the storm.
"Now," the one soldier said, laughing, "first a little fun, and then perhaps something to eat and drink. We don't have to be back until morning."
Carter stepped back out of sight. If he showed himself, he would have to kill them. It was something he wouldn't mind doing, but he knew that the villagers would be blamed and would be severely punished.
Mal'ama cried out. One of the border guards laughed out loud. Carter pulled out his Luger. It was going to be impossible for him to hide while the girls were being mistreated. He simply wasn't built that way.
Then he had the solution. The way out of his dilemma. He smiled.
"Where is your room? Upstairs?" one of the KGB guards asked.
"No. No, it is down here," Mal'ama said fearfully.
Carter hurried down the corridor, keeping well away from the rail so that he would be out of sight from below. He held up at the broad stairs, just edging across until he could see Na'tukt and one of the Russians disappearing through a door at the side, while the other soldier dragged Mal'ama over to the big fireplace, his back to the stairs.
The moment Na'tukt and the one guard were out of sight, Carter started down the stairs, never taking his eyes off the Russian with Mal'ama.
The room was very large. On one side were long tables and chairs for communal meetings and meals; on the other was the huge fireplace, a big fire burning in the grate, a large steel kettle hanging on an iron hook.
At the bottom Carter hesitated a moment before he started across. The Russian had turned and was looking off toward the door through which the other soldier had disappeared. He had only to turn his head slightly to the left and he would have to see Carter, who stood stock-still.
Mal'ama spotted Carter, and she let out a little gasp.
The Russian turned to her. "Tell me, do you miss your mama?" he said, laughing. He slapped her, knocking her back.
Carter jammed Wilhelmina in his pocket as he raced across the room on the balls of his feet so that he made no noise.
At the last moment, the soldier, sensing that someone or something was coming up on him, started to turn. Carter hit the man's back at full speed, grabbed his head in both hands, and yanked sharply backward. The Russian's neck and back both snapped with a sickening sound. The soldier let out a strangled cry, then slumped to the floor, dead, as Carter let go and stepped back.
"No, no," Mal'ama was saying, her hands to her mouth.
"It's all right," Carter said, going to her.
"They will retaliate against my village."
"They will not. I'll fix it. Believe me." Carter looked over toward the door through which Na'tukt and the other Russian had gone. "Where did she take him?" he whispered.
"There are apartments back there," she said.
"Where are all your people? Why aren't they here?" Carter looked at his watch. It was nearly eight in the evening. "They should be here. Inside."
"We were told to search for spies. If they caught us resting before the job were completed, it would go very hard on all of us." Mal'ama looked down at the dead Russian. She shook her head. "It is too late for us now. Kill the other one before he harms Na'tukt."
"Go get your people. I must leave tonight, no matter what the weather," Carter said. He turned and hurried across the community room. A low, narrow corridor led back to three doorways, each covered only with a cloth blanket. It was very cold back there.
Carter slipped into the hall and listened at the first doorway, but there were no sounds from within. He started to pull the blanket back, when Na'tukt cried out in the next room.
"Dirty peasant whore!" the Russian shouted.
Carter turned, leaped to the next room, and yanked back the blanket. Na'tukt lay on the cold floor beside a low bed, her clothes torn off, while the big Russian stood over her, his coat and tunic off.
"You son of a bitch," Carter swore.
The Russian turned, the blade of a huge hunting knife in his right hand glinting in the dim light. "Amerikanski?" he said, dropping into a crouch.
"An American spy, you motherless pig," Carter spat in perfect Russian. "And when I finish with you, you'll never get it up again, old woman!"
The Russian was enraged by the insult. He charged, just as Carter wanted him to. Carter stuck out his foot, and the Russian tripped, going down heavily.
Carter did not want to damage the man in any obvious way. At least not with a weapon.
The Russian jumped up, bellowed, and charged again. Carter sidestepped the swing of the big knife and hit the Russian twice very hard with his fist in the chest. The color drained from the Russian's face as he stepped back.
Carter went after him, relentlessly hammering blows with every ounce of his strength into the man's solar plexus and ribs over his heart.
The KGB guard's eyes bulged, his mouth opened to catch a breath that for him would never come because his heart had stopped, and he bit through his tongue, a gush of blood coming from his mouth as he fell to the floor.
Na'tukt had gotten up, and she had pulled her robe around her nakedness. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted as she looked from the dead Russian to Carter and back again.