Smart Bombs Read online

Page 8


  Butler reluctantly removed his eyes from her and resumed removing Ospenko’s clothes. Then he took off his own clothes and put on Ospenko’s. The clothes were too tight for him and the red hole in the front of the shirt would pose a problem, but maybe he could cover it if he wore the necktie to the side. He strapped on Ospenko’s belt, holster, and pistol. On a peg near the door was Ospenko’s visored hat with red star in the center. Butler put it on and it fit just right. He turned to Sonia and asked, “How do I look?”

  “You will strike fear into the hearts of any Russian,” she replied, tucking in Natalia’s blouse. “How about me?”

  “The uniform’s a little too big for you.”

  “You think anybody will notice?”

  “Let’s hope not. Put on your hat and let’s get going.”

  “Going where?”

  “Out of here.”

  She reached to the peg and put on Natalia’s hat. Butler straightened it out for her and smoothed the front of her uniform.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to walk out of this room like two nasty, vicious KGB officers. If anybody says anything to you reply with the utmost contempt. Understand?”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “Let’s go. Ready?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Butler opened the door and looked into the corridor. There was no one there. He motioned for Sonia to leave the room, then followed her out. They marched down the corridor in step and side by side. At the end was a door, which was locked. Butler pounded on it, a guard opened up and saluted, and Butler kept walking with Sonia at his side. There was a window in that corridor and Butler could see the prison yard. It was night. They came to a door leading to the yard, and a guard opened it up, saluting. They returned the salute and stepped into the yard.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  They walked into the yard, and Butler looked around. He saw with dismay that the yard was surrounded by buildings. They were boxed in.

  “Keep moving,” he said. “We’ll try that building over there.”

  They marched to the long gray stone building and opened the door. A guard standing just inside saluted. Down another corridor they marched, and through more doors. They came to the lobby of a building and Butler led Sonia out the front door, although he had no idea where that would lead.

  They stepped into a yard covered with concrete, and straight ahead was the wall! A gate was about twenty yards away and they headed for it. A guard was standing on each side of the gate, and as Butler and Sonia approached, they saluted. Then they opened the gate.

  Butler and Sonia stepped onto the sidewalk outside the Kaluga Prison. A car drove by on the street in front. The guards closed the gate behind them.

  “Keep moving,” Butler said. “Appear purposeful, like we know where we’re going.”

  “Where are we going, by the way?”

  “The American Embassy. Do you know where it is?”

  “We’re going in the wrong direction. It’s the other way.”

  “Oh, shit, we can’t turn around and go that way.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we won’t look purposeful, and KGB agents are supposed to look purposeful. We’ll have to go around the block.”

  A siren went off inside the Kaluga Prison. Butler and Sonia stopped and looked at each other.

  “Uh-oh,” Butler said.

  Her face became streaked with fear. “What will we do?”

  “Walk fast around the corner there.”

  Butler and Sonia quickened their pace as they headed for the corner. Four-story stone houses with peaked roofs were on the other side of the street, and in the distance against the night sky were the spires and domes of Moscow, As they approached the corner, two males in uniform turned and marched toward them.

  Butler turned to Sonia. “Do we salute them, or do they salute us?”

  “How should I know?”

  “When in doubt, salute first. Let’s do it.”

  “But I’ve never saluted before!”

  “Just put your fingers against the brim of your hat and try to walk as if you’ve got a broomstick up your ass.”

  The two soldiers came closer, and Butler and Sonia saluted them. The soldiers saluted back and kept walking. More sirens were going off inside the prison walls. Butler and Sonia rounded the corner.

  “Run!” he said.

  They ran down the street, and came to an intersection. There was no traffic and no pedestrians. It must be very late at night, Butler thought. They took a left, and halfway down the block they saw a car parked at the curb.

  “I think we’re going to steal this car,” Butler said, slowing down. “Do you know how to open the hood on one of these?”

  “There’s a latch near the steering wheel.”

  Butler tried the door, but it was locked of course. He unzipped his fly, reached inside to his thigh, and pulled off the tape with the picks. Selecting one, he picked the lock and opened the door. He found the latch near the steering wheel, pulled it, and the hood snapped open. He walked to the front of the car, lifted the hood, and looked at the wires. He found the ones leading to the ignition, pulled them from the firewall, and spliced them together.

  “Get in the car,” Butler said.

  Sonia got behind the wheel and slid over to the passenger side. Butler slammed the hood shut and then got into the car, pulling the door closed. The sound of sirens grew louder, and Butler realized there were patrol vehicles outside the prison now.

  “Uh-oh,” he said.

  “Start the car, you fool!” she hissed.

  “Where’s the starter button?”

  “Over there. Don’t you know how to drive a Zim?”

  “Never drove one before.”

  “You’d better let me drive. Exchange places—fast!”

  Butler moved toward the passenger seat and Sonia squeezed over his lap, her bottom rubbing against his thighs and genitals.

  She got in the driver’s seat, pressed the button, and stepped on the gas. The engine roared to life. She put down the emergency brake, turned on the lights, shifted into first, and they drove away.

  “Head straight for the American Embassy,” he said.

  They took a left at the first intersection and found themselves on a wide tree-lined thoroughfare. There was little traffic and few pedestrians. The old stone buildings looked like apartment houses. Butler was surprised by the absence of stores and saloons, but this was the Soviet Union and there were fewer of them than in the West. They didn’t have many stores because they didn’t have much to sell, and the saloons closed early in an effort to curb alcoholism, which was a major social problem in the Soviet Union.

  The sound of sirens was all around them, and seemed to be getting louder.

  “I’ll bet they’re cordoning off the area of the city we’re in,” Sonia said, looking ahead out of the windshield. A streetlamp flashed on her finely chiseled features, and Butler thought how beautiful she was.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to think of what to do.”

  “Think fast, because once they cordon the area off, then they start to draw the net.”

  “Is the American Embassy in this neighborhood?”

  “No, it’s on the other side of the city near Red Square.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Stop swearing and tell me what to do!”

  He looked at her, and her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Her hat was crooked on her head, and he wanted to straighten it.

  “We’ve got to get out of this car and hide in one of these buildings,” he said. “All the lights are out. Everybody must be asleep. Do you know anybody in this neighborhood?”

  She gave him an evil look. “Are you kidding?”

  “Why, what’s wrong with this neighborhood?”

  “This neighborhood has the reputation for having prostitutes.”

  “I didn’t
know they had prostitutes in Moscow.”

  “What are we going to do!”

  The sirens were getting louder, and there was only one thing to do: abandon ship.

  “Pull over to the curb right here,” he said.

  “Here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why here?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “I think you want to find yourself a prostitute—that’s why you want to stop here.”

  “Pull over and shut up.”

  She steered toward the curb, braked, and turned off the lights. “Now what?” she asked.

  “Get out of the car.”

  “I can’t turn the motor off.”

  “Open the hood, and I’ll take care of that.”

  She pulled the latch and they got out of the car. He went under the hood and pulled apart his splice, causing the engine to stop. Then he slammed the hood shut.

  “Let’s go,” he said, “Walk quickly and purposefully.”

  Side by side they marched down the street. At the corner they turned left, and at the next corner they turned right. The sound of sirens grew louder, and then they saw the headlights of a car turn the corner up ahead.

  “Quick, down here!” he said.

  He pushed her through a gateway and down some stairs to an entrance to the basement of a house. There was only a tiny corner in which to hide.

  “Against here,” he said, pushing her back to the wall. Then he squeezed against her.

  The car came down the street slowly, its searchlight throwing a shaft of light over the sidewalks. Butler pressed harder against Sonia, hoping that the tiny niche would conceal them. He heard her breath against his ear and felt the outline of her body against his. The searchlight flashed past them, and he was getting an erection.

  She began to squirm uncomfortably. “Stop that!” she snapped.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Yes you can!”

  “Ssshhhh.”

  “You’re just trying to take advantage of me, you sex degenerate.”

  “You screw other women with a rubber dick, so who are you calling a sex degenerate?”

  “I do not!”

  “Then what do you do to them?”

  “That’s none of your business!”

  “Not so loud.”

  “Let me out of here!”

  “Wait until that car goes away.”

  “I SAID, LET ME...”

  Butler clamped his hand over her mouth. She struggled, but she was a relatively dainty woman, while he was a relatively muscular man. He held her against the wall and chuckled as he rubbed his erection at her. Finally she stopped struggling and just leaned against the wall. He stopped moving too, and only squeezed against her gently.

  “If you promise not to scream, I’ll take my hand off your mouth.”

  She nodded her head, and he took his hand away.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” she said.

  “What a nasty little dyke you are.”

  “Dyke? What is a dyke?”

  “It’s American slang for a lesbian.”

  “Oh, shut up, you.”

  Butler drew his head back and looked into the street cautiously. He couldn’t see the patrol car. Craning his head, he saw it turning the corner at the end of the street.

  “We’d better get off the streets,” Butler said. “Are you sure you don’t know anybody in this neighborhood.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I told you already that I don’t know anybody in this neighborhood. Only prostitutes and bums live in this neighborhood.”

  “Then it sounds like a good place for us, and this door right here is as good as any.”

  He took out his pick, bent over the lock, peered at it, and inserted the pick into the lock. Deftly he flicked over the tumblers, and then spun it around. It made a loud, snapping sound. He turned the knob and the door opened.

  “In here,” he told her.

  They entered a dark vestibule that smelled moldy. He closed the door and locked it. Then he turned around, his eyes adjusting to the dimness. He could see a square of light in the distance, and pulled Sonia toward it. They shuffled down a long dank corridor, passed the furnace and hot water heater, and came to a door. The square of light was a window in the door, and they looked out into a courtyard. A big Zim sedan was parked there.

  “I wonder what that car is doing here?” Sonia asked. “I don’t think that the people in this neighborhood would have a car like that.”

  “How should I know what a car like that is doing here. My concern is that we can’t stay here for long because at some point a janitor will come by to check the furnace and will see us. We’ve got to find a good place to hide.”

  “There are some stairs over there.”

  “Where?”

  “There.”

  “Ah, I see them. Let’s find out where they go. Follow me.”

  He led her up the stairs and at the top was a door. He tried the knob and it turned. Pushing gently, he opened the door and saw a carpeted corridor and papered walls.

  “This looks like a classy joint,” Butler said.

  “It’s a whorehouse, I tell you.”

  “It looks like an apartment building to me,” he whispered, “I can see a door with a number on it.”

  “It’s a whorehouse,” she insisted.

  “Your brain is a whorehouse, I think. Listen, I think our best bet is to hide in one of these apartments.”

  “Sure, so you can be with the whores.”

  “Follow me and do what I say. I’m going to open that door right there, and we’re going into the apartment. Just keep your mouth shut when we go in and don’t touch your gun.

  I’ll handle all the trouble if there happens to be any. Understand?”

  “Why can’t I use my gun too?”

  “Because you’ll probably shoot yourself or me by mistake.”

  “If I shoot you it won’t be a mistake.”

  “If you don’t stop talking to me that way I’m going to put my hand up your dress and pinch your behind.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Ssshhhh.”

  He opened the door wider and they crept down the corridor. Butler sniffed for trouble and listened for ominous sounds. There was nothing. When he reached the door he had his pick ready. Slowly and silently he tickled the tumblers and turned them over. Then he twisted the knob gingerly. When it turned as far as it would go he pushed the door and peeked into a dark kitchen that glowed red in its far end.

  “Come on,” he whispered.

  They tiptoed into the room and he closed the door silently. Immediately they became aware of three things: they were in a kitchen, a red light was on in a room adjacent to the kitchen, and from that room were issuing moans, sighs, and the sound of bedsprings creaking.

  Butler brought his lips close to Sonia’s ears. “I think somebody’s fucking in there.”

  “I think so too.”

  “Come on—we’ll take them by surprise.”

  “Oh, my goodness.”

  “You worry too much. Just stay close to me. Whatever you do, don’t touch your gun, so I won’t worry too much.”

  “I can’t wait to see,” she said, like a naughty little girl.

  “Sssshhhh.”

  They tiptoed across the kitchen to the doorway and the red glow. The man was grunting and the woman was moaning. Butler and Sonia reached the doorway and peeked around it.

  On a big bed two corpulent people were going at it like wild animals. The woman was on her back, kicking her pudgy legs in the air, and the man was pumping her. The sheets and blankets had fallen to the floor and the bed looked as though it would collapse any moment. Butler realized the two lovers were so preoccupied they wouldn’t hear a bomb go off.

  “I hate to break this up,” he whispered to Sonia.

  “Why don’t you wait until they’re finished,” she replied.

  “You’re right, of course. It’s the only decent th
ing to do.”

  So they peeked around the doorjamb and watched. Sonia was kneeling in front of him, and he was bending over her. The fat man took the woman’s legs in his arms and socked it to her that way. She reached under him and cradled his testicles in her hand.

  It was the raunchiest thing Butler ever saw in his life, though his own penis twitched to life. The fat man was groaning and farting, and the woman was screeching like a cat in heat. Butler looked down and saw Sonia’s cute little bottom in front of him. He wanted to put his hand up her dress and feel it, but thought she might start to scream, the crazy dyke. But Butler was a red-blooded American man and he just couldn’t stand there. So he gently rested his erection against the valley of her behind.

  She stood bolt upright. “What do you think you’re doing!” she demanded in a loud whisper.

  Butler held his finger to his lips. “Not so loud.”

  “Did you just touch me!”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

  “Calm down.”

  “You’re completely crazy and disgusting, do you know that?”

  “You mean that’s not turning you on in there?” He pointed to the fornicating twosome who were slobbering all over each other.

  She shrugged. “A little.”

  “Oh, come on. Your tongue was practically hanging out.”

  “It was not!”

  ‘It was too. Why don’t you close your eyes and pretend that I’m a woman, and everything will be all right.”

  “Whatever can you be talking about?” she asked, shocked.

  “Just turn around and watch, and make believe the most beautiful dyke in the world is behind you.”

  “You’re sick, do you know that?”

  “Yes, and so are you. Who do you think is the most beautiful woman in the world?”

  “The French actress, Delphine Seyrig.”

  “My, what a kinky little thing you are. Turn around and watch the show.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. The lady was on her hands and knees and the man was behind her, doing it doggie fashion. Sonia bent forward to see better, and Butler looked down at her fanny. He reached down and proceeded to caress it, but Sonia flinched at his touch.

  “Pretend I’m Delphine,” he whispered.

  He expected her to turn around and slug him, but she didn’t. She let him fondle her, and he figured she was so turned on by the Satyricon taking place in the bedroom that she was ready for anything. He lifted her dress and ran his fingers up her nylon thighs to her silky underpants. It was very damp there, and he realized that the girl was indeed quite horny. He slipped his fingers through the elastic leg band and touched her most delicate part, all covered with fleece. She trembled and he inserted his finger into the hot little cave. He went in deeper, his head spinning, his erection pounding in his pants.