“With you as the surgeon, I’ll take the sickness over the cure. It’s your vision that will destroy us and the rest of the world. History has already judged your kind, the power-crazed madmen convinced they alone have the answers. Like you they’re all small men with small plans because all they can see is what lies immediately before them.”
“Small?” blared Raskowski. “Is that what you think? Is what you saw yesterday the work of a ‘small’ mind?”
Natalya seized the opening. “You wanted the General Secretary to know your death beam was deployed aboard Ulysses. Why?”
“Because it isn’t.”
“What?”
“Listen to the progression of a small mind’s thoughts,” Raskowski ranted. “Through great pains I managed to launch my own satellite several months ago. That satellite destroyed Hope Valley, but a power surge overloaded its circuits and it self-destructed. I would need something, wouldn’t I, small man that I am?”
“A new means of deploying your weapon.”
“Impossible, though, for me to launch another satellite of my own. A message had already been sent. The Americans were on notice. So I sought out help. From you. I used you, so I suppose you must be even smaller.”
Natalya made herself look angry so he would continue.
“Through you Chernopolov was deceived into believing that my weapon was on board the American early detection satellite. Then what?”
“He would contact the Americans and urge them to deactivate it.”
“And would they?”
Natalya thought briefly. “Under the present state of tension, only if they had a replacement.”
Raskowski’s taut grimace spread into a smile. He nodded and kept nodding, suddenly subdued.
Natalya’s breath left her as quickly as from a punctured balloon. “No! The replacement … The replacement!”
The general’s grin grew still wider. “Does such a deception sound like the work of a small mind? All of Alpha has become a deception since the loss of my first satellite. Believe me, it wasn’t easy fitting all the pieces together, but I had come too far to be denied.”
“But you couldn’t possibly get another beam weapon on board the replacement satellite!”
Raskowski rose and pulled a syringe from his jacket pocket. “There is an explanation for everything, my dear, including giving you this sedative as we begin our descent. I understand the risks involved to your life but they would be far greater if we left you to your wits. Rest assured,” he said as if offering comfort, “that this will be the last shot you need ever receive. I promise.”
Natalya was groggy when the plane landed. She had no idea where she was, but she guessed it was the place Raskowski was moving his headquarters from Bangkok.
She kept her eyes closed as the plane’s wheels met the runway, bounced, then settled again. Surprise was her only hope now. The general’s men had to be induced to underestimate her, or better yet, not estimate her at all. Escape, if it was going to happen, would have to take place before she reached Raskowski’s new stronghold. In transit maybe, or …
A pair of guards approached her. She could hear their heavy shoes pounding closer and she concentrated on convincing them that the sedative was still enjoying its full effect. Like many drugs, the effect of too many doses often lessened the net effect. Furthermore, a veteran Soviet operative had taught her about such drugs, advising her to cause herself pain at the moment of injection, to induce her body to release powerful antineurons which would, in turn, block at least some of the drug’s effects. The theory had never been proven, but the old spy was unyielding in his conviction. She had not had the opportunity to test the theory until now.
The guards unfastened the seat straps and eased her to her feet. Natalya stirred slightly, as would a sedated person. She made sure her breathing was shallow, almost mechanical, eyes open now as narrow slits. She felt that her mind was at full capacity, but what of her body?
The guards gripped her tightly as they led her down the aisle toward the exit door. They would be the last ones out. Not good. Too much would already have transpired outside the plane. Not enough time to make something out of nothing.
Natalya found herself well in control of her motor capabilities as she and her guards reached the steps leading down to the tarmac. It was dusk, the grayness suiting her chances. She walked unsurely, waiting for the men to lead her. Twenty feet from the portable steps a trio of limousines waited on the tarmac. Natalya felt her heart quicken with hope. One of the cars, meant surely to take her to her death, could similarly provide her with a means of escape. She would have to act in the shadow of an instant, and the circumstances would have to be just right. At least there was a chance.
This was Algiers! She recognized the airport clearly!
More of Raskowski’s guards surrounded the cars. The general himself was not to be seen. Three guards stood near the limousine to which she was being led. Her mind sharpened all the way. She fought to push blood into her lagging muscles. Speed would determine survival.
A plan, a hope, she had it! One of the guards by the limo held a small machine gun at the ready. The others were wary but not yet handling their weapons. What of the driver? Was he inside or was he outside the car? If he was inside, her plan would be in jeopardy. In the half-darkness she could see nothing through the darkened limousine windows.
Almost there …
Natalya stilled her thoughts. The rest she would have to leave to reflex.
Ten feet from the limo she could see one of the guards reach for the back door latch. The big car’s engine was idling. Perfect.
The man was holding the door open when Natalya drew within a yard. She acted in an instant. A quick lunge both separated her from her escorts’ grip and closed the gap to the limo.
The force of her body weight crashed the back door inward, pinning the man’s hand against steel. He was screaming horribly when Natalya went for the machine-gun-toting guard who was starting to aim the weapon at her. She didn’t stop him from firing. Instead she grabbed the barrel and aimed the bullets where she wanted them.
The escorts and final guard went quickly, and she aimed next at the guards outside the other limos to keep their fire erratic. The guard was trying to pull his machine gun free now, and Natalya let him while she pounded his back hard against the frame of the limo, grasping his hair and yanking his head viciously backward. His skull rammed hard into steel and he stiffened. Natalya went for the front door and threw it open.
The side window shattered and glass rained over her. More bullets peppered the windshield, carving jagged holes which quickly spread into spiderweb patterns. Natalya didn’t care. She jammed the idling limo into gear and lurched forward with her head beneath the dashboard.
She didn’t think of fleeing yet. She couldn’t with two fully able cars intact and plenty of men in them. The first thing was to make sure they were reasonably disabled before proceeding.
Windows were lowering. Gunshots blazed at her from both the other cars. One of the drivers had the sense to move. The other stayed as he was, so when Natalya drove into his rear passenger-side fender, the sudden impact stripped his transmission and left him with an engine-racing shell. Tires screeching, Natalya threw her limo into reverse as the last car came for her with bullets flashing from within. Her back window exploded and more glass showered the rear seats, a few shards nipping at the back of her neck. Screaming down the pain, she backed her car hard into the front of the last limo. Steam burst from its radiator.