Heads You Win

“Head for the Aeroflot plane parked at gate forty-two,” the paramedic instructed his colleague.

Alex didn’t like the sound of the word “Aeroflot,” and wondered if he was being led into a trap, but didn’t move until the back door opened once again. He sat up, fearful, anxious, alert, but the paramedic just grinned and handed him a pair of crutches.

“I’ll have to replace them,” he said, and only released the crutches after he received another hundred-dollar bill, almost as if he knew how much Alex had left.

The paramedic accompanied his patient up the steps and onto the aircraft. He handed over the ticket and a wad of cash to a steward, who counted the folded rubles before he even looked at the ticket. The steward pointed to a seat in the front row.

The paramedic helped Alex into his seat, bent down, and offered one final piece of advice, and then left the aircraft before Alex had a chance to thank him. He watched from the cabin window as the ambulance headed slowly back toward the private entrance, no flashing lights, no siren. He stared at the plane’s open door, willing it to be closed. But it wasn’t until the aircraft took off that Alex finally breathed a sigh of relief.

*   *   *

By the time the plane landed in Helsinki, Alex’s heartbeat was almost back to normal, and he even had a plan.

He had taken the paramedic’s advice, so that when he reached the front of the queue and handed over his passport there was a hundred-dollar bill enclosed where a visa should have been. The officer remained poker-faced as he removed Benjamin Franklin and stamped the empty page.

Once Alex was through customs he headed for the nearest washroom, where he removed his bandages and disposed of them in a bin. He shaved, washed as best he could, and once he was dry, reluctantly put the young man’s clothes back on and went in search of a shop that would solve that particular problem. He emerged from a clothes store thirty minutes later wearing slacks, a white shirt, and a blazer. His loafers were the only thing that had survived.

An hour later Alex boarded an American Airlines flight to New York, and he was enjoying a vodka and tonic by the time the shop assistant came across an old pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and some crutches that had been left in the changing room.

When the plane took off, the steward didn’t ask the first-class passenger what he would like for dinner, or which movie he would be watching, because Alex was already fast asleep. The steward gently lowered the passenger’s seat and covered him with a blanket.

*   *   *

When Alex landed at JFK the following morning, he called Miss Robbins and asked her to have his car and driver ready to pick him up the moment he arrived at Logan.

During the short flight to Boston, he decided he would go straight home and explain to Anna and Konstantin why he would never be going back to the Soviet Union again.

After he’d disembarked, he was pleased to see Miss Robbins standing outside the arrivals gate waiting for him, a perplexed look on her face.

“It’s wonderful to be home,” he said as he sank down into the back seat of his limousine. “You’ll never believe what I’ve been through, Pamela, and how lucky I was to escape.”

“I’ve heard part of the story, chairman, but I can’t wait to hear your version.”

“So you’ve been told about Major Polyakov and his KGB thugs waiting for me in the hotel restaurant?”

“Would that be the same Colonel Polyakov who died a year ago?” asked Miss Robbins innocently.

“Polyakov is dead?” said Alex in disbelief. “Then who was the man in the restaurant with the two KGB minders?”

“A blind man, his brother, and a friend. They were attending a conference in Leningrad. Jake was just about to tell you he’d spotted his white stick, but by then you were already on the run.”

“But the scar? It was unmistakable.”

“A birthmark.”

“But they broke into my room … I heard him shouting ‘There he is!’”

“That was the night porter. And he didn’t break into your room, because he had a passkey. Jake was standing just behind him and was able to identify you.”

“But someone was chasing me, and I only just managed to jump onto the tram in time.”

“Dick Barrett said he had no idea you could run that fast…”

“And the ambulance, the road block, not to mention—”

“I can’t wait to hear all about the ambulance, the roadblock, and why you didn’t get on your own plane, chairman, where you would have found a message from Jake explaining everything,” said Miss Robbins as the limousine swung off the road and drove through a gate marked PRIVATE. “But that will have to wait until you get back.”

“Where are we going?”

“Not we, chairman, just you. Jake called earlier this morning to say he’s closed the deal with Mr. Pushkin, but a problem has arisen because you told the chairman of the Commercial Bank in Leningrad that the contract wouldn’t be valid without your signature.”

The limousine drew up next to the steps of the bank’s private jet awaiting its only passenger.

“Have a good flight, chairman,” said Miss Robbins.

BOOK FIVE

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