Library Of Gold

Annja didn’t like that, didn’t like it at all.

A sense of unease slowly unfurled itself in her gut.

“You are together, yes?” the officer asked Annja, while inclining her head toward Gianni.

For a moment Annja thought the other woman was asking if the two of them were a couple. She opened her mouth to say no, but then realized what she was really being asked.

“That’s right,” she replied. “We are traveling together.” She smiled, hoping to get one in return.

She didn’t.

The officer picked up Annja’s passport a second time and gave it closer scrutiny, which only increased Annja’s growing unease.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

The officer ignored her. She dialed a number on her phone, waited for it to be answered and then said a few short phrases in Russian, glancing only once at Annja in the process.

Annja knew a handful of languages, but unfortunately Russian wasn’t one of them.

She desperately wanted to know what the officer was saying.

The officer hung up, got up from behind her desk and disappeared through a door in the back behind her station, all without saying a word to Annja or Gianni.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Annja just shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

She glanced over the counter, trying to read whatever was on the officer’s computer monitor, but it was angled too far to the left for her to get a clear look. She thought she could see the edge of a photo, a head shot perhaps, maybe even her own, but the reflection of the overhead lights on the screen kept her from being certain. Their passports were no longer on the counter, which could only mean the officer had taken them with her.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“You’re not an international fugitive by any chance, are you?”

She knew Gianni was joking, but the remark sent a shiver down her spine just the same. She’d had more than her fair share of police encounters since taking up the sword. More than once she’d had to employ creative storytelling when it came to explaining away the bodies she’d been forced to leave in her wake. She’d always acted in self-defense, but proper explanations would have required revealing the sword’s existence and that was something she simply hadn’t been prepared to do.

Had something she’d done in the past finally caught up with her?

Chapter 6

The sound of a door closing caught her attention and Annja looked up to see the blond officer walking back toward her, with two other immigration agents in tow. Both were large men, with wide shoulders and several inches on Annja. If they weren’t imposing enough, the sight of the handguns holstered on their belts clearly indicated they meant business.

The blonde opened the low gate separating the passengers from the immigration officials and waved Annja and Gianni through.

“This way.”

It was voiced as a request, but Annja knew they had little choice. Something must have set off a red flag somewhere, leaving them with the option of either following orders or trying to make a break for it. Neither course of action was all that appealing.

Her instincts were screaming at her to get out of there, but to reach the street, they would have to get past not only the immigration officers but also the customs officials at their stations farther down the corridor, and both groups were armed.

The immigration officers formed up around them and marched them off down the hall to curious stares from their former fellow passengers. They were led to a small windowless room that contained a table and four chairs, two on either side. Annja had seen her share of interrogation rooms. She glanced around, trying to spot the security cameras, to no avail. She knew they were there, somewhere, and had no doubt that the room was also bugged. She hoped Gianni was smart enough to figure it out for himself, because there was no way of warning him without giving away that they had something to hide.

Just going to have to play it by ear and hope for the best.

Their guide asked them to take a seat, said something about getting them water and closed the door behind her on the way out.

Annja didn’t even try the knob; she knew it would be locked.

Not that a locked door would have stopped her. She could have called her sword to her at any moment and made short work of both the lock and the door. But that wouldn’t get them to the bottom of what was happening and would only serve to cement their guilt in the minds of their captors.

They could always use the sword to free themselves if it proved necessary later.

They sat there, staring at the four walls, for what felt like hours. Twice Gianni tried to engage her in conversation, to get her to discuss their situation and why she thought they might be in here, but she shushed him both times.

She didn’t want to give them any more ammunition than they already had. Whatever that might be.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, before the door opened and the biggest man Annja had ever seen stepped inside the room. She and Gianni immediately got to their feet. He was so tall that he had to duck to get through the doorway and his wide shoulders filled his jacket near to bursting. His sheer presence was intimidating, never mind his scowling expression. Annja found herself subconsciously shifting her feet into a wider defensive stance, preparing for a confrontation. She needn’t have worried, though, for the man’s bulldog face split into an equally wide grin when he caught sight of her.

“Rasputin’s ghost!” he exclaimed. “It is you.”

The man’s reaction was so unexpected that Annja could only stand there and stare.

The newcomer crossed the room, one enormous paw extended, and took Annja’s hand in his own and shook.

“Welcome. Welcome to Moscow. I am Yuri Basilovich and, I assure you, I am your biggest fan in all of Russia.”

“Fan?” Annja asked, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Yes. Yes, of course! I have seen all of your episodes at least twice, sometimes more. If there is anything you need, anything at all, you let me know, da?”

Annja blinked and finally understood that she was standing in a Russian interrogation room talking to this giant of a man because he was a fan of her show. All the tension and anxiety slipped from her system in a rush, leaving her light-headed. When she found her voice, she said, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Yuri, but I must admit to being confused. My colleague and I have been held here as if we were criminals. Would it have not been easier if you’d simply said hello to us when we were in the immigration line?”

The big man’s expression went from enthusiasm to abject horror. He turned to the immigration officer behind him, one of the men who had escorted them here in the first place, and fired off a rapid stream of Russian. Annja didn’t speak the language, but judging from his tone, Yuri wasn’t happy. He must not have appreciated the answer he received, either, for it elicited another blast from him.

After dressing down his subordinate, Yuri turned back to face Annja.

“I must beg your forgiveness, Miss Creed,” he said, the embarrassment plain on his face. “I had not wanted to miss a chance to meet you in the unlikely event that you came through our facility, so I had placed an alert in the system keyed to your name. When my subordinates saw that, they wrongly assumed you had done something illegal and detained you. Unfortunately, I was not on the premises at the time.”

Annja was flattered but also annoyed. To think that a man would go to so much trouble on the slim chance that she might one day come through his airport was one thing, but being kept locked in a small room for more than an hour was something else entirely. It was not an auspicious beginning to their trip.

We’ve wasted enough time, she thought. We need to get out of here and back on schedule.

Annja smiled at the big Russian. “I understand completely, Yuri. I’m always happy to meet a fan of Chasing History’s Monsters and so I say we chalk this up to an unfortunate miscommunication and leave it at that. What do you say?”

Yuri’s head bobbed up and down. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Creed. And if I may, perhaps you’ll let me provide an escort to your hotel to make up for the time that you have lost?”

“That’s not necessary, Yuri… .”

“No, I insist,” he replied, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.