The clothes were the easier part. Not understanding or speaking Russian was the more difficult problem. She’d pondered the issue through the night, making a mental list of the few Russian words she knew, with the image of her and Harrison’s moms chatting and drinking tea vivid in her mind. Then the obvious answer dawned on her. She knew the Russian word for tea.
Christine checked her watch. It was sunrise, and she was certain the two guards outside Kalinin’s room would welcome a maid delivering a tray of tea. Of course, there’d be a surprise beneath the tray. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed two pistols and inserted a magazine into each, then chambered a round in both. She had finally decided to walk away from this life, handing her resignation to the president. Yet here she was, again, with a pistol in her hand.
Returning her attention to the displays, she examined the path between the study and her bedroom. The route was clear. She opened the heavy metal door and entered the study, then moved to the French doors. Opening one slowly, she peered down the hallway, seeing no one. She hurried down the corridor while listening for footsteps, stopping to look around the corner. It was clear. After heading down the deserted hallway, she stopped where it opened into the foyer and checked her watch. A soldier would be passing through the foyer anytime now.
Christine looked around the corner, spotting a soldier enter the far end of the foyer. She pulled back, watching the seconds tick by on her watch as the soldier continued on his rounds, then turned right. Christine peered around the corner again, spotting the soldier heading away. A moment later, the foyer was clear.
She raced up the stairs and slipped into her bedroom without being seen. After stripping off her dress and donning a black skirt, white blouse, and black heels, Christine looked in the mirror and decided she could pass for a maid. She retrieved her purse from the dresser drawer and checked her cell phone. There was no signal and it was almost dead. She considered taking the phone and charger with her, but she had no pockets. She already had two pistols and would soon be carrying a tray as well. She returned the phone to her purse, leaving it on the bathroom counter.
With a pistol in each hand, she headed downstairs and entered the kitchen. She found a teapot and two cups and saucers, which she placed on a silver tray. She checked her watch, and convinced that the path to Kalinin’s room was clear, headed out with the tray in both hands, holding each pistol flat underneath with her fingers.
In case a soldier spotted her, Christine walked at a measured pace. She made it to the second floor unnoticed, then headed toward Kalinin’s bedroom. As she approached the final corner, she slowed and took a deep breath, then made the turn. Her pulse began racing when the two soldiers noticed her.
The Russian soldiers posted outside Kalinin’s bedroom were facing the president’s door, leaning against the wall. Upon spotting Christine, they stood erect. The Russians eyed her as she approached, the way many men do when encountering an attractive woman. Christine smiled. When she was two-thirds of the way there, one of the soldiers spoke.
She had no idea what he said, but responded in Russian, “Tea.”
He gave her a curious look and Christine tried not to wince. She must have pronounced it incorrectly. But the man’s eyes went to the teapot and there was no further reaction while Christine closed the remaining distance.
This next part could play out in a couple of ways, but Christine hoped they took the bait. She stopped in front of the nearest soldier, said tea again, then pushed the tray toward him. She had no idea how to tell him she would pour the tea for him, but he got the idea. He took the tray and Christine stepped back, leveling the pistols at the two men.
Both soldiers froze, one with the serving tray in his hands. Christine took another step back, beyond both men’s reach, and gestured toward the pistols on their hips. Slowly, each man pulled the gun from its holster, then set it on the carpet, along with the tray. Christine pointed to the ground with both guns, but neither man understood. She tried again, accompanied with, “Lie down,” in English. Whether they understood English or figured things out the second time, they complied, lying prone on the floor.
Christine kicked their guns away, then opened Kalinin’s door. Kalinin was awake and dressed in the clothes he’d worn the previous evening, minus the blue suit jacket, sitting in a chair, staring into the distance. When he saw Christine, he surged toward her. He stopped at the door and surveyed the hallway, spotting the soldiers on the floor.
Kalinin took one of Christine’s pistols, then aimed it at the nearest man as he spoke in Russian. The soldier pushed himself onto all fours, then Kalinin delivered a crushing blow to the man’s head with the butt of his pistol, knocking him unconscious.
It was impressive, the way Kalinin knocked the man cold with a single blow. Christine wondered what other tricks the former SVR agent had up his starched white sleeves, hoping a few of them would help keep them alive. At the same time, she shivered involuntarily. As civilized and charming as Kalinin appeared, there was a cold, hard side to him.
Kalinin repeated the process with the second soldier, who was hesitant at first. After a stern warning from Kalinin, the soldier complied and was also rendered unconscious. Kalinin dragged the men into the bedroom, along with the serving tray and dishes, then closed the door.
“What is the status of security?” he asked.
After Christine explained the distribution of Russian soldiers, Kalinin said, “We must return to the study.”
Christine nodded, recalling there were two guards patrolling the mansion between them and the study, but had lost track of where they were on their rounds. She explained the problem to Kalinin.
“We will deal with them if necessary,” he said.
Kalinin moved down the hallway toward the stairs, with Christine close behind. There was no one in view and they descended quickly. They had almost reached the end of the foyer when Christine heard a man shout behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting a soldier entering the foyer, reaching for his gun. Kalinin sprinted toward the exit, as did Christine, turning the corner as a bullet splintered a fluted column beside her. The gunshot echoed through the foyer and Christine heard the man talking into his radio.
They were still a distance from the study and Kalinin continued at a full sprint, slowing at the end of the first corridor. Christine caught up, and after pulling off her heels, kept up with Kalinin during the sprint down the second hallway. The soldier turned the corner behind them and fired his pistol.
Kalinin and Christine made it into the study just in time. Kalinin dropped to one knee and swiveled around the study entrance, firing three times, and Christine heard a man’s body thud onto the floor. Kalinin then went to the back of the study, where he flipped the rosette aside and punched in the security code. The mahogany panel slid aside and Kalinin pushed Christine into the dark chamber, then followed.
The lights flicked on as the door closed. Kalinin surveyed the equipment on the counter. He grabbed two backpacks, stuffing a ruggedized smart phone in each, along with the six remaining pistol magazines, three in each backpack.
“We must move quickly,” he said. “They will figure out where we’ve disappeared to and won’t be far behind.”
Christine glanced at her heels, which she still held in one hand, then broke off the spikes on the counter edge.
Kalinin handed Christine a backpack and grabbed the other, retrieving a flashlight from his, as did Christine. He tossed his backpack over his shoulder, then opened the far door and turned on his flashlight, illuminating the tunnel. Christine slipped into her shoes and shrugged into her backpack, then followed Kalinin into the musty passageway.