In the Shadow of Mordor

Chapter 37

Olga welcomed the end of the operation against Shtayn. The mental effort of dealing with the difficult man wearied her more than the physical effort. His words left her disoriented and confused, which only made her angry.

It was nearing six P.M. and snowing when she emerged from the Metro station a block away from where she lived. It was nothing like a Moscow snowfall, of course, but she would be glad to get back to her cozy little apartment nonetheless. She decided not to cook tonight and ducked into the small pizzeria on the corner of Wilson and Herndon. The New York style pie there was good, and on a chilly evening, pizza sounded like a good idea.

As she stood at the counter, she sensed as much as heard a deep rumble that rattled the plate glass window and the china on the counter. She turned her head in time to see the ugly black effluvia of an explosion disgorged from the Metro station entrance across the street and stared in incomprehension along with others who had sought temporary refuge from the snow and a slice in the small establishment.

What the hell was going on?

The Metro station entrance was a gaping mouth emitting flame-tinged smoke that Olga thought surely must resemble the Gates of Hell. There were people in there, trapped underground where only moments before she had stepped off her train. This was the very station used by Shtayn every morning and evening, and with a start she realized that the traitor might well have been in the station.

She’d done her job well, she knew, as she went over events in her mind. She’d picked up Shtayn as he left the office building a few blocks west. Careful observation over the course of the past several weeks had confirmed the man’s pattern. Olga had ridden the Metrorail several times to the suburban station and watched as the target walked to his car and drove away.

Through the restaurant’s fogged window she could see as people slowly, fearfully began to move toward the blackened Metro entrance. A few, very few tried to go inside but were driven back by roiling, greasy smoke and fumes. Faintly at first, then louder, the wail of sirens came through the glass.

She realized that long minutes had passed. Police, fire, and emergency vehicles arrived at the scene, and the streets were being blocked off. Witnesses would be sought out, and questions would be asked. It would not do for her to remain.

She slipped out the door and headed away from the scene toward her apartment. She must talk to Karpov as soon as possible tomorrow.