Hollis suddenly released his grip on Burov’s wrist and with his freed hand delivered a karate chop to the back of Burov’s neck, then reached around Burov’s head and grasped his chin in his hand and pulled, turning the man’s head and neck until he could hear the cartilage cracking. Burov reached for Hollis’ hand to break the grip before his neck broke.
Hollis kept up the pressure, and he could see Burov’s tongue protruding from his mouth and his left eye beginning to bulge. Burov’s free hand was pulling at Hollis’ arm. Hollis brought his knee up into Burov’s groin twice, realizing the man’s defenses were failing. He tried to pull the pistol from Burov’s hand, but Burov held tight.
Then, to keep his neck from breaking, Burov suddenly released his grip on his pistol and let his body roll over on his back, rolling out of Hollis’ twisting jaw hold. Burov got to his feet.
Hollis stood also, and the two men faced each other, hunched over and panting. Hollis let Burov’s pistol fall to the floor. “Come on.”
But Burov didn’t move, and Hollis could see he was finished. Both eyes were filled with blood, and his breathing came in short raspy gasps. Blood poured from Burov’s nose and spurted from his wrist. Hollis moved closer to him, caught his breath, and said, “For Dodson, Fisher, the airmen, their women, and the children.” Hollis drove his fist into Burov’s face and heard the cracking of teeth.
Burov toppled backward and lay still on the floor. Hollis sank to his knees and turned Burov over on his face so he wouldn’t drown in his own blood. He ripped off the collar of Burov’s pajamas and tied it around the open vein of Burov’s wrist.
Hollis sank to the floor, trying to clear his head and catch his breath. His hand went to his right cheek where Burov’s teeth had ripped into the flesh and nerves, and he felt a searing pain flash through his brain.
A figure appeared in the doorway, and Hollis could make out a pair of jackboots coming toward him. He looked up into the face of Seth Alevy. Behind Alevy was Lisa. Hollis tried to stand, but Alevy’s hand pressed down on his shoulder. “Sit awhile.” Alevy took the revolver from the floor and went over to Burov.
Lisa hurried to Hollis’ side. “Sam, are you all right?”
He nodded, then turned toward Alevy. “Radio.” He pointed.
Alevy moved from Burov to the radio and ripped the handset out of its cord, then smashed the plastic handset against the steel radio casing. “Was he able to get a call through?”
“I don’t think so.” Hollis pulled on his sweat pants, and Lisa helped him on with his shirt and parka. He got on his running shoes but found he couldn’t tie the laces, and Lisa did it for him. Hollis stood unsteadily, stuffing the loose papers from the cigar tubes into his pocket. Lisa handed him his star.
Alevy turned Burov over and looked at his face, then looked at Hollis and said, “You guys don’t like each other.”
Hollis didn’t reply.
A voice said in Russian, “Why did you hurt my father?”
They all turned toward the door. A frightened-looking girl of about ten stood in her nightgown at the open door. Behind her was a rather plain, middle-aged woman in a heavy quilt robe, and barely visible behind her was the old woman whom Burov had introduced as his mother.
The middle-aged woman looked at Hollis, then at Lisa, then at Alevy in the KGB uniform. “Is my husband dead?”
Alevy replied in Russian, “No, madam, he is only unconscious.”
She sobbed. “But I don’t understand what is happening.”
Alevy and Hollis glanced at each other. Lisa said to them in English, “You will not kill them.”
The girl, Natalia, said, “Will my father be all right?”
Lisa replied in Russian, “Yes.”
Suddenly the old woman pushed past her daughter-in-law and granddaughter and hurried into the room, kneeling beside her son, tears falling on his face, her fingers caressing him. “Oh, God, my poor boy. Petr, Petr, God love you, my little one.” Hollis recalled those World War II newsclips of the old babushkas keening over the bodies of their sons and husbands. He thought, My God, how many Burovs have been carried in the big bellies of these saintly old ladies?
Alevy said in English, “We can’t take them, and we can’t leave them….”
Lisa snapped, “No, Seth!”
Hollis said to Alevy, “I want Burov to know they’re alive. That could be useful to us later.”
Alevy nodded. “All right.” He said to Burov’s wife in Russian, “All of you will remain in the house, or the dogs will get you. Some soldiers will be along in a while.” Alevy knelt to pick up Burov, but Hollis pushed him aside and with some difficulty got Burov in a fireman’s carry and took him toward the door, the old woman still caressing him.
Lisa put her hand on Natalia’s head. “We’re taking him to the hospital. He will be home soon.”
Burov’s wife and mother tried to follow Hollis down the staircase, but Alevy stopped them. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”
Lisa and Alevy made their way down the stairs after Hollis. Lisa said to Alevy, “You were kind to them.”
Alevy didn’t reply.
The Trans Am was now outside the front door, its hatchback open. Mills got out of the car, and with Hollis, they put Burov in the rear compartment with Dodson. Mills tied Burov’s wrists with a piece of steel flex. Hollis looked down at both battered men: Dodson in his torn warm-up suit, Burov in his blood-splattered pajamas, neither face recognizable. The circle was closing on itself, Hollis reflected, the events set in motion by Dodson’s catapult over the wire were nearing resolution. Hollis said to Alevy, “I’ll drive. Bert, give me your topcoat and hat and get in the back with Lisa.” Hollis put on the KGB topcoat and cap, then slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. Mills and Lisa climbed into the rear, and Alevy got in beside Hollis. Hollis threw the Trans Am into gear and accelerated quickly up the path, through the gate, and onto the dark, curving road.
They passed the shopping plaza, and Alevy said, “We have twenty-two minutes before Sandman. Lots of time.”
Lisa said, “Is that it, Seth? We can go now?”
“Yes. Helicopter’s full.”
“Damned full,” Hollis added. He stepped on the accelerator and brought the speed up to sixty mph.
As they approached the headquarters building, a piercing siren cut the air. Alevy said, “I assume that has something to do with us.”
Ahead they could see the lighted headquarters building with several Zil-6’s in front of it and about a dozen KGB Border Guards milling around. One of them stepped to the side of the road and began waving to Hollis to pull into the parking area in front of the headquarters.
Hollis put the pedal to the floor, and the headquarters shot by in a blur.
Alevy said, “What do you suppose that fellow wanted?”
“I don’t know.” Hollis saw the speedometer climb to ninety mph. They shot past the dark VFW building, and Hollis said, “Watch for the helipad turnoff.”
Mills commented, “They’re not real sure who’s who or what’s what yet.”
Alevy said, “Well, I hope they figure it all out after we’re gone.”
Hollis glanced in his rearview mirror. “Two vehicles coming up.”
Alevy looked over his shoulder, and his eyes made contact with Lisa’s. He said, “You’re unusually quiet.”
She smiled nervously. “Thinking about the helicopter.”
“We’ll be airborne in a few minutes.”
Hollis said, “They’re still back there.”