They were all wearing gigantic parkas and grinning from ear to ear. They looked like an oversize team of gymnasts about to hit the slopes in the dead of winter-- except the sun was shining and everyone else around them was dressed in thin sweaters. Below the picture was Hamilton's reply to their e-mail of the night before:
My mom made us pat these stupid things on for a family picture. She said it would make the perfect Christmas card. Whatever. Not exactly cold in Siberia this time of year, so we ditched the jackets. Dad's off looking for meat pies, Mom and the twins are looking for a bathroom.
I just got service on my laptop again-spotty out here in the tundra, har-har, But I got your message.
I'm at an Internet cafe. Had no trouble getting directions to this Dostrovinsky statue. Dude's got a weird name, But that helped, Because someone
here at the cafe already told me where to find it. Lucky me, it's right around the corner. I'll check out where the guy is looking and get right back to you. Cell phone service is choppy,
But I might get a bar or two once I'm out in the open air again. On the hunt --Hammer."Hammer?" said Dan. "He's kidding, right?"
"It must be a family nickname."Dan stuffed a wad of pancake in his mouth and held his fork high in the air."Beware fellow contestants the Hammer is on the case!"They were both giggling when they heard Nellie's phone vibrating again.
"I think we better answer it this time," said Dan, all the wind gone out of his sails.Amy walked to the phone and picked it up. Unknown caller ID.
She decided it was time to do some talking."Hello?" said Amy, picking up the phone."Amy? Is that you, Amy?"
Nellie's excited voice flooded across the line. She sounded overjoyed."It's me, we're okay!" said Amy."Yes, yes, YES! Is Dan there? IS HE SAFE?""Dan's okay, as long as he doesn't explode from eating too many pancakes."
"I was worried SICK about you two," said Nellie. "And Saladin won't stop crying. He misses you guys. Russia? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! How COULD you let this happen?""How's Saladin?" asked Dan.
Amy waved him off as Nellie continued to rant."I don't know what's gotten into you two! STAY PUT until I get there.
I've already grabbed a flight to Moscow. Where are you exactly?"Amy tried to do the math in her head... Moscow to St. Petersburg ... probably an overnight train. It was a long time to wait."We're in St. Petersburg, but we have to keep moving, Nellie," said Amy. "This hunt we're on is time sensitive. I don't think we can sit here and do nothing all day."Another call was trying to break in. It was Hamilton Holt.
"Listen, Nellie, I've got to go.
Come to Moscow and we'll call you as soon as we can. Hold tight.""NO WAY! Stay where you a-"Amy clicked the phone and switched calls. Hamilton started yelling into the phone so loudly Dan could hear it from across the room."I see it! I see what that author dude is staring at!"
"Good job, Hamilton! What is it? What's he looking at?"Dan sidled up next to Amy so he could listen in."Dad! I got this!"It sounded like Eisenhower Holt was trying to grab the phone. Amy heard Mary-Todd yell something in the background."Hey! Let go of that parka!"Reagan and Madison were howling somewhere close by."He's looking at the ground!" Hamilton yelled.
"It's all bricks, and one of them says something on it. It says-- ""Hamilton? What's it say?""It says 'Alexei's Playroom,' and there's a little symbol here, looks like a six-sided gem."
"You didn't tell the Kabras, did you?""Those losers? No way," said Hamilton."Great job, Hamilton! You did it! Um ... await further instructions.""You got it... Dad! Yo, Dad! This is getting WAY out of hand. Hammer Holt, signing off!"
The phone went dead and Amy raced across the room for the Russian guidebook."This confirms my suspicions," said Amy, riffling through pages, searching, searching, searching....She lifted gleaming eyes to Dan. "Get the backpack. We've got a royal village to visit!"
CHAPTER 8
Amy Cahill had been ripped off, bugged, double-crossed, and taken advantage of one too many times.
She was through with taking taxicabs."I have a better idea," said Dan. He put his beatnik goatee and mustache on and walked right up to the hotel bank, flashing a smile along with his passport and Visa gold card."I need a cash advance. Can you dig it?"
Amy had to stifle a laugh. Did Dan actually think he was going to get real money with a line like that?"We have fee of one thousand rubles on American cards," said the teller. One thousand rubles was about thirty bucks, which sounded like a lot of money to Amy.
Then again, it was NRR's money, not hers, and they'd just racked up more than $2,000 on their bill.
"That'll be fine," Dan replied. "And, ah, tip yourself another thousand while you're at it. I'll take a hundred thousand for myself if the card will hold it. Been spending like a sailor on leave. I must be getting close to the limit on that thing."
Dan laughed as if he didn't really care, but Amy knew better. They'd had to count every penny back home."Ahhh, is good for you," said the man, suddenly Dan's best friend. "In American dollars you have balance of six thousand. The card has forty-four thousand unused. But you know the limits of your own credit, of course."
"FORTY-FOUR THOUSAND!" Dan choked back a cough of surprise, then asked for an additional 100,000 rubles, just in case.
He leaned in close to Amy and whispered, "If rubles are anything like marbles, my backpack is going to be really heavy."The teller counted out the bills. The stack, amounting to about 7,500 American dollars, was so tall it teetered back and forth as he reached the final 1,000.
Dan's eyes got huge and he tipped the teller another 1,000."Very kind, sir, very generous. Thank you! I wish you and your young friend a good day."Amy's jaw dropped as she realized that in disguise, Dan probably looked a lot older than she did."He's not older than me!" she said without thinking.
Dan smirked and leaned in close to the teller. "You know how sensitive little sisters can be. She's impossible.""Keep it up, buddy," Amy said under her breath, "and I'll tear that fake mustache right off your dumb face."
As soon as they got out of the lobby and into the street, Amy hammered Dan with questions. "What in the world do you want with all that money?""I got a plan," said Dan."A plan? You're eating way too much candy and it's turning your head fizzy." Carrying around gobs of money made her nervous.
"There, that looks like the perfect fit for our needs," said Dan.Dan was watching a middle-aged man get out of a car. It was the smallest car Amy had ever seen, more like a go-cart, really.
And it was blue, which made Amy nervous. Blue was Dan's favorite color."Time to start my car collection!" said Dan.
"Come on. This is going to be awesome.""You're so much dumber than I thought," Amy groaned. "And that's saying something. Do you remember that neither one of us knows how to drive?"But Dan bolted across the street and hailed the man.
The guy was bald as a potato, with stains on his tie and an attitude of being late for something important.
"How much for the car?" asked Dan. "I'm in a rush and I've got cash."The man glanced at Dan, saw how small he was, and let out a sharp hoot of a laugh. "Stupid Americans! Go home!"
"See this backpack?" Dan said, trailing after him. "It's full of cash! I'm serious here!"
The man couldn't seem to help himself and turned back.
"How much in rucksack? Tiny Tim not cheap," he said.
Tiny Tim?! thought Amy. "Wait a sec-- "
"Enough," said Dan, talking over her. "I'll give you, um, let's see ... how about twenty thousand rubles for it?"Amy coughed up a weird yelping sound, as if there were a hair ball stuck in her throat.
The idea of spending twenty thousand anything was outrageous."Thirty," said the man, fiddling with his tie and looking at Dan sideways.Dan hauled bills out of the backpack."You know how to drive Russian car?" asked the man, beaming. "I show you!"Dan beamed right back. "You got yourself a deal.
"A few minutes later, the potato-headed man had taken his thirty thousand rubles, happy as a clam, and given Dan and Amy a five-minute tour of Tiny Tim. It wasn't much bigger than a refrigerator, and it only had two gears: slow and fast."Leave stick up until Tiny is twenty-five, then slam it down, like so."