Gray Shadows: Russian Historical Thriller

Chapter Five

Nikolai stepped aside from the door and towards one of the windows. He pushed aside the brightly-colored curtain and looked out. On the outside, the glass was caked with a thick layer of snow. The last hint of twilight was already fading into the dark cold night. Days were short, just a few hours of weak light. Upper Luzinsk would not see sunshine or even real daylight until spring.

Nikolai could not imagine living here his whole life. From here, his home in Moscow felt like the tropics. He chuckled at the thought. Moscow’s northern climate was hardly the tropics, but Luzinsk was extreme north, as far north as Nikolai had ever been.

“Waiting for me?” Natalya said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m back, all safe and alive. No bad guys in the bathroom.” She opened the door and walked into the office. Nikolai followed. “Let me make coffee for all of us,” she said. “Pyotr Alekseevich, you like coffee, right?”

“Yes and thank you for the offer, but I make my own coffee,” Pyotr Alekseevich said. “And when you taste it, you’ll know why. I like it black and strong.”

Nikolai’s phone rang, and he stepped into the hallway. It was Anatoly, and his tone sounded serious.

“Vasily Petrovich is coming by today,” Anatoly said. “He wanted me to tell you how grateful he is to you. We’re working on finding a new bodyguard for him, a temporary replacement while you’re guarding girls in the tundra. But he really wants to work with you, once you’re totally recovered.”

“Sounds good to me. Any news from the investigation of the attempt on him?”

“Pretty sketchy still. Vasily Petrovich said he’d tell me more in person, but he mentioned a deal between the government and Luzinsk Oil.”

“Luzinsk Oil? The company here?”

“Yes. As the lawyer for the government, he was against this deal, so he refused to sign the papers.”

“What deal are we talking about?”

“He’ll tell me more about it when he gets here, but you know what’s interesting? That attack on him happened the day after his refusal to sign whatever it was. I don’t think it was a coincidence.”

“Somebody is trying to get rid of him?” Nikolai said.

“If he’s replaced with a more agreeable person, the deal can go through, that’s how I read this,” Anatoly said. “Anything I need to know from your end?”

“There was one unusual incident that ended with a security guard getting killed, but it was over a woman, not business-related from what I can tell.”

“Any details I need to know about?” Anatoly said.

“Not at the moment.”

“All right. Thanks. Keep me informed.”

When Nikolai walked back into the office, Pyotr Alekseevich was handing papers and brochures to Natalya, and she was putting them into her bag.

“The boss says we’re done for the day,” she said to Nikolai. “Computers have been slow all afternoon, so Oleg’s coming to check things. And that means I can’t type any translations.”

“What are all these papers for?” Nikolai said.

“I need to read them tonight so I’m better prepared for the meeting tomorrow. All this technical information is pretty complicated,” Natalya said.

“Thanks, Natalya. I appreciate all your efforts,” Pyotr Alekseevich said. “I promise that your computer will be in a much better shape tomorrow. They tend to slow down once in a while, but Oleg knows how to fix them. They are lightning fast after he does his magic. You know where the hotel is, right? Or do you want me to send someone with you?”

“Thank you, but we’ll be fine,” Nikolai said. “Natalya and I can walk over there on our own.”

“Sounds good. Just don’t expect much. It’s a small town, you know. The hotel used to be a dorm for the construction workers.”

“Yes, Oleg already warned us about it,” Nikolai said.

Outside, the only light came from the lit windows and industrial-style lamp posts that marked the paths between the buildings. Everything off the path looked completely dark, and Nikolai could not even tell how deep the snow was around them or how far the hotel was. He felt like he was walking into a black hole. Then, suddenly, the path stopped.

“We’re home,” Nikolai said, pointing to the nondescript entrance with a plain-looking sign, Hotel, a bright spotlight shining on it.

“I see what he meant when he said not to expect much,” Natalya said.

Nikolai pulled the heavy door open. “After you.”

The reception area consisted of a desk behind which an old woman sat on a chair. Her head was covered with a scarf, and only the top button on her coat was unbuttoned despite the relative warmth of the building. On the wall next to her was a plywood board with room keys hanging on it. All keys were attached to what looked like huge wooden chess pieces. Pawns, probably. Nikolai chuckled to himself. Freud could write a paper or two about the subliminal messages these pawn-shaped key rings sent to the Soviet construction workers who used to live here.

“Are you the ones who wanted a suite?” the woman asked them. “Oleg told me when he brought your bags. Your room is on the second floor. All the way to the right. Room twelve. And you’ll even have your own shower. Only five rooms in this whole hotel have their own. Most use the hallway shower. You’re lucky.” She stretched her arm to the board with keys, took one off, and handed it to Nikolai. “Make sure to turn in the key when you leave the hotel every morning. That way, you can’t lose it, and I’ll keep an eye on the key and on your room.”

Nikolai and Natalya climbed the steep and narrow staircase to the second floor. They walked on the well-worn institutional-style brown carpet to the room, floorboards creaking and squeaking with each step. Room twelve was at the end of the dimly lit hallway, all the way to the right, just like the old woman told them. Nikolai put the key in the rickety lock, jiggled it a little, and opened the creaky door. The suite was more than modest, by anybody’s standards.

A small antechamber was equipped with a metal coat rack and a single light bulb hanging down on a thick black cord.

“Lenin’s lamp,” Natalya said. “How frugal.”

Nikolai chuckled. He had not heard this expression for a long time, probably because he had not seen this type of lighting for a long time. The words “Lenin’s lamp” used to refer to the official propaganda of Lenin’s efforts to bring electricity to villages and small towns after the 1917 socialist revolution. Later, as Russian people got disillusioned with the dream of socialist heaven on earth, Lenin’s lamp became a symbol of the ultimate simplicity and frugality of the new way of life that Bolsheviks brought to the people of Russia: even a simple lampshade was considered bourgeois, so the pear-shaped lamp hung free on its cord, casting harsh light on its surroundings. That was the way of life Bolsheviks advocated for the masses, reserving the finer things in life for their own use. So much for a classless society.

The antechamber had four inside doors, all open at the moment, that led to two rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The furniture and the decor looked simple and minimalistic: a couch, a table, a few chairs, plain-looking wallpaper, a table lamp with a green plastic shade, thread-bare rugs, and faded curtains. Just the necessities.

“Pick your room,” Nikolai said.

“I’ll take this one,” Natalya said and walked into the one closer to the kitchen. “It has a larger radiator. I get really cold when I sleep.”

“Fine with me,” Nikolai said. “Mind if I jump in the shower first?”

“Go ahead. I want to read the brochures anyway.”

The hot water felt rejuvenating and refreshing after a day of traveling and being in the cold. As the hot water released the tension in Nikolai’s muscles, his wounded leg immediately felt better, the last of the ache quickly disappearing. Standing under the steaming water stream, Nikolai tried to convince himself that this assignment would not be as boring as it was shaping up to be. There were definite positives. For one, he wasn’t stuck in his apartment doing nothing. Two, Pyotr Alekseevich seemed like a nice man, and even Natalya was not as bad as he first thought. Being an interpreter, and a good one, was not an easy job, so she must have put a lot of effort into her studies. Maybe, her dad was too hard on her. Nikolai turned off the water, dried off, and got dressed before he stepped back into the room. He already felt better.

Natalya was in the kitchen, bustling around.

“I’m making tea,” she said. “Oh, some girl called. I told her you were in the shower.”

“You told her what?” Nikolai grabbed his phone from the kitchen table.

“That you were in the shower.”

“Did you get her name?”

“Olga, I think.”

Nikolai shook his head, suppressed a wave of anger towards Natalya, and dialed Olga’s number. She was not picking up, as he had expected. She was probably really mad by now, and for what looked like a good reason. More Othello and Desdemona-style jealousy and suspected affairs, just like in Vanya’s crossword. Another misunderstanding. There seemed to be a lot of that going around in Upper Luzinsk.

Last time Nikolai talked to Olga, he failed to mention that he and Natalya were sharing a suite. He thought he was doing what was better for everyone. That was a mistake. Now, Olga will not want to talk to him at all.

Frustrated, Nikolai stuck the phone into his jeans pocket and turned to Natalya. “And why are you even picking up my phone?”

“Oh, I am sorry. Did I say something wrong? Is Olga your girlfriend? I was just trying to help.”

“Please don’t help anymore,” Nikolai said. “Why did you do that? Do you know what she will think now? How am I going to explain you to her?” A new wave of anger came over him. Not only was he stuck with Natalya in this awful little town on a pointless assignment, now she was ruining what was left of his personal life, too. He should have taken Anatoly’s offer to teach at the academy. That would have been of more use to everyone, no doubt.

“Don’t worry so much,” Natalya said. “She’ll forgive you.”

“Like you would know. Just don’t touch my phone ever again,” Nikolai said, trying to regain composure.

“Agreed. I’m sorry. But let me make it up to you. You just have a seat and relax, and I’ll make some tea. It’s jasmine and chamomile, soothes the soul and calms the nerves. You do drink tea, I hope?”

“I drink tea, sure.” Nikolai grabbed a chair, flipped it around and sat down, reminding himself that whether he liked it or not, Natalya was still his client, so getting to know her better was a part of his job.

Natalya turned on the electric stove, poured some tap water into the small kettle, and put two cups and a small ceramic teapot on the counter.

“Another benefit of having the suite,” she said. “Comes with all the essentials.” She scooped out loose tea from a small tin. “Why don’t you tell me how you became a bodyguard while the tea is brewing. Was it your childhood dream?” She chuckled. “Other boys wanted to fly into space or discover cures for diseases, and you wanted to guard people?”

“Yes, that’s exactly how it was. And in my next life, I hope to be reincarnated as a German shepherd.”

“Come on, don’t get upset. I was just joking, trying to lift your mood, you know. But really, how did you become a bodyguard?”

“I don’t think you really want to know,” Nikolai said.

“I do, honestly. I’m sorry if I haven’t been the best person to work with, but I’ll try to make your job easier.” Natalya poured the tea into cups and handed one cup to Nikolai. “Here, you need to relax.”

Nikolai took a sip. The tea was hot and strong, with an unusual aftertaste that Nikolai could not identify, minty and earthy. “Good tea.”

“My secret recipe.” Natalya giggled. “Come on, tell me, how did you get into this job?”

“It just happened.”

Natalya gave him a pouty look, got up and walked into her room. Another upset woman, Nikolai thought. Going for the record of the highest number of women I manage to offend in one day. So far so good. While Nikolai contemplated apologizing to Natalya, her door opened again, and she came out with a box of chocolate candy.

“Peace?” she said and placed the box on the table in front of Nikolai. “Have some.”

“Thanks. But why don’t you talk about yourself first.” Nikolai rubbed his leg, took one piece, and put it into his mouth. Natalya wasn’t his favorite person at the moment, but he reminded himself that he needed to make an effort to get to know her better so they could develop some trust and be able to discuss their plans for each day and their strategy for dealing with potential threats, foreseen and unforeseen. That was a part of his job, so he needed to get over the situation with Olga and focus on the job. Nikolai smiled and said, “Thanks for the chocolate. So, tell me, how did you become an interpreter?”

“Not much to tell. I’ve always been independent, so this kind of work suits me well. I never wanted to work in a big office, and I did not want to have the same boss or the same colleagues for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to get attached to people too much. I like my freedom. And interpreting is perfect: I get to learn about a lot of different areas, meet different people, and, in the case of this job especially, make some decent money.”

“I thought this was your first job,” Nikolai said.

“My first real job, away from home. I had short-term assignments before, mostly in Moscow. Anyway, your turn. You must be really brave and fearless to be a bodyguard. Are you?”

“I don’t know about fearless. I’ve learned to tell the difference between fear and danger and found ways to deal with both.”

“Most people don’t like dealing with either.”

“Maybe not. But I didn’t see any other choices for myself. We don’t like to admit it, but a lot of important events in our lives are shaped by circumstances, and that was the case for me, too.”

“Circumstances? How so?” Natalya said.

“I come from a military family and since I was a kid, I always imagined myself a warrior, invincible and brave. As I grew up, I became more realistic but no less idealistic about the military career. But after I graduated from the military academy, all the military cuts started, and there were no real jobs for recent graduates, at least not the ones I trained for. I was stuck in an office shuffling papers and waiting for the final discharge. Then, a friend of mine asked me to be present at a business deal, just in case something went wrong. You never know how these so-called business deals can turn out. I came along and met his boss. The brother of the boss owned the bodyguard agency. One thing led to another, and now I’m here.”

“So, do they teach you how to fight and use weapons?”

“I already knew how to do that. My military academy, remember?”

“Are you always armed?” Natalya said.

“With knowledge and skills,” Nikolai said. “And a sharp wit.”

“No really, where do you keep your weapons?”

“The weapons are called concealed for a reason. You don’t need to worry about things like that. Your job here is stressful enough. All that interpreting must be tiresome.”

“It’s stressful sometimes, especially if people I’m interpreting for get impatient or start interrupting each other. Sometimes, they get so worked up about an issue, they start talking faster and faster, forgetting that I’m there struggling to keep up with the conversation. At other times, people don’t take any time to formulate their thoughts. They just say the first thing that comes to their mind, in whatever way it comes, and change sentence structure as they go. When it comes out awkward in the other language or people don’t understand them, they think it’s the interpreter’s lack of skills. But it’s not always the case.”

“Pyotr Alekseevich seems quite impressed with your interpreting. How did you get so good at it?”

“Like anyone who is good at anything. Lots of studying and lots of practice. My college trained us well for interpreting. Of course, some of the terms here are new to me: casing, piping, drill bits, and other oil field terms can be hard to remember right away, but Pyotr Alekseevich seems to know these words in English, and I’m learning fast.”

“Have you always been a good student?” Nikolai said.

“Sure. I’m ambitious, you know, despite what my dad says.”

Nikolai nodded, took the last sip of his tea, and felt the warmth spread all over his body. He was seeing a very different side of Natalya: not the spoiled rich and immature girl but an educated, intelligent, and hard-working young woman. Was all that surface immaturity just her way to interact with her dad because he did not take her seriously? Maybe, the real reason she was here was to prove something to her dad or just to get away from his watchful eyes. Hence, Nikolai’s job.

“Aren’t you a little bored here?” Nikolai asked. “It’s not exactly a bustling place.”

“I’ll find a way to entertain myself, don’t worry,” Natalya said and smiled coyly.

“I have no doubt about that.” He suppressed a yawn. Natalya still seemed lively, perky, and very much awake. But it was late, and Nikolai was tired. More tired than he would want to admit.

“More tea?” Natalya asked. “It’s good for you.” She poured another cup for Nikolai. He took it and was about to take a sip when he noticed that Natalya’s cup was still full.