Chapter Twenty
Unlike the previous hour, the twenty-minute drive to the safe house in Olgino was blissfully uneventful. And at the beginning, they drove in complete silence. The kids were in shock, and understandably so. Their lives had been turned upside down. While it would ultimately be for the better, all the upheaval would take time to process. Quinn hoped the reigning quiet would act as a balm to soothe their confused and hurting souls.
They were crossing the Bolshaya Nevka, an arm of the Neva River, when Mila broke the silence. She gazed out the side window and asked in a subdued voice, “Where are you taking us?”
“To a safe house in Olgino.” Now out of range, Quinn removed her earpiece and stuck it in a pocket.
“What will happen to us?”
For the fiftieth time in the last five minutes, Quinn checked the rearview mirror. “When we know it’s safe, you all will go to a shelter set up especially to help kids like you.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes until you’re ready to return to your families.”
A derisive snort came from the back of Mila’s throat. “My brother and sister and I have no place to go. Our parents don’t care that we’re gone.”
“That’s not true,” Quinn said. “In fact, it’s the very opposite.”
Mila’s head snapped around.
“When you and your siblings disappeared, your parents went to Slavnoye and Tver looking for you. They also contacted authorities in the United States. Your case is still open at the State Department in Washington, D.C.”
Quinn looked at Mila, who was openly gaping at her. Returning her eyes to the road, Quinn added, “Until we found you in Turks and Caicos, no one knew if you and your sister and brother were even alive. I wasn’t there, but I was told when your parents learned you all are alive, they both broke down and wept with joy.”
Mila turned her face toward the side window again. The hurt in her voice cut through Quinn like a knife. “They won’t want anything to do with us when they find out what we were forced to do. They’ll be ashamed of us.”
“No, they won’t. They already know. They also understand it wasn’t your choice. They can’t wait to see you again. It was all we could do to keep them from coming here and joining the rescue team.”
A tiny smile flickered on Mila’s lips when she looked at Quinn again. “I can’t really picture my mom smashing Mother Olga in the head with a step stool.”
“You’d be surprised,” Quinn replied in all seriousness. “I bet she wouldn’t think twice about it.”
The interior of the van fell silent again.
Quinn steered off the dual carriageway and onto a smaller road that ran parallel to railroad tracks.
Mila’s tone was soft when she spoke again. “My cousin Yana and her boyfriend, Alexei, invited me and my sister and brother to spend the day with them in Tver. She was twenty. We thought she was so cool. We could hardly believe she asked us to do something with them. We didn’t think she even liked us, being younger cousins and everything.”
“I know what you mean, feeling like the tagalong. I have five older brothers.”
“That’s how we felt, too. We were so excited to go to Tver. Up ’til then it’d been pretty boring around my babushka’s house.”
“Hanging out with Grandma can be like that sometimes,” Quinn said.
Mila sighed. “Yeah. We got to Tver and walked around and saw some of the royal buildings Catherine the Great had built. Stuff like that. Then Yana and Alexei told us they were going to take us to see a movie. On the way, we stopped off at a café. While we were sitting there eating, Alexei went and talked to a man. A few minutes later, he came back and sat down.”
Quinn gritted her teeth. The next part of the story was sure to be bad.
“We finished our food and then Alexei said, ‘I didn’t want to say anything before in case it didn’t work out, but that man is a friend of mine. He owns horses. His farm isn’t far away. We’re going to take you there so you can ride them.’ My sister Sasha was a horse freak. She almost came unglued. So we all piled into Alexei’s car and drove off.”
Mila fingered the hem of her top.
“We came to a farm and went in the house. Then the man gave Alexei some money and he and Yana left. I thought they went out to Alexei’s car for some reason. When they didn’t come back after a few minutes, I started to get really scared. I asked the man to tell us where we were and what was going on. He just sneered at me. Then I demanded he let me use the phone so I could call my grandmother. He laughed at me.”
“Was that man Grigori Yefimov, the man we just took you from?”
“No. I never knew this guy’s name. He was the one who sold us to Boss—Yef imov—though.” Mila’s nose wrinkled. “His teeth were so brown and gross. And his house smelled like cigarettes and cat pee.”
“Yuck.”
“No kidding. Anyway, I still had no idea what was going on, but I knew we needed to get out of there. So I told my sister and brother we were leaving and I got up.” Mila huffed a humorless laugh. “Like where were we going to go? I didn’t even know where we were.” She moved a shoulder. “I went for the door. He grabbed my arm and spun me around and backhanded me. Then he beat me half to death. We did what we were told after that.”
Quinn gripped steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. “Barbarian,” she muttered.
Mila fell silent.
The abuse those innocent kids had endured was unfathomable and the damage done profound. Quinn desperately wanted to make things better, but knew care and support and time would be what healed their deep wounds.
She maybe couldn’t help them in the long run, but when she spotted a global icon on a sign along the road, an idea for an immediate indulgence sprang to mind.
Quinn angled the rearview mirror down and checked on the kids in the back. They gazed out the windows with faces filled with wonder. They deserved this.
She slid her phone from her pocket and placed a call.
The phone barely rang once before James answered. “Hey, baby. You okay?” His voice was thick with worry.
“We’re fine.” Connecting with him made her feel a thousand percent better. “Driving into Olgino now. How are you?”
“I’m good. Got Yefimov bound and gagged in the back of my van. I’m waiting outside the police station for Reem. She and the police are bringing Viktor and the other two guys in from the flat.”
“Yeah, I saw the police cars in front of the building. How much longer do you think you’ll be?”
“Not very. Why? Can’t wait to see me?” There was a smile in his voice.
“You know I can’t. But that’s not the only reason why I called.” She slowed and turned onto a narrower street. They entered a residential area with large houses, security fences, and copses of maple, birch, spruce, and oak trees. “There’s a McDonald’s on the way to Olgino.”
“I remember going by it when we went to check out the safe house the other day.”
“I thought about stopping with my kids. But with everything that’s happened, I didn’t know if it was a good idea.”
“You want me to stop and pick up some food on my way there?”
Quinn turned right again onto a one-car-width lane. The van jolted when a tire hit a deep pothole. “I do, but let me check with Marina first. I don’t want to step on her lunch plans. We’re almost to the house so I’ll call you back one way or the other in a few minutes.”
“Roger that.”
They ended the call at the same time Quinn pulled up in front of the closed gate. After a call to LT, it slowly swung open. She maneuvered the vehicle through the gap and parked to one side of the courtyard.
The second Quinn turned off the engine, the three in the back began to chatter. Mila was the first out of the van. She opened the side door and reached in to get the others out.
“I got them,” Quinn said. “Go. Find your sister and brother.”
Mila didn’t have to be told twice. She sprinted across the courtyard and zipped past LT standing guard at the front door. “Sasha! Ilya!”
Maksim and Alikhan unclipped their seat belts and jumped out of the van. Klara needed a little help with hers. Once she joined the other two, Quinn slid the door closed. Klara slipped her hand into Quinn’s as they walked together toward the front of the house.
When Quinn noticed the kids’ steps grow more hesitant the closer they came to LT, she said in Russian, “This is my friend. His name is LT.”
LT squatted down and greeted them with a wide smile. “Privet.”
Now at the kids’ level, he was no longer the unapproachable giant. With shy smiles, they skirted past him and entered the house.
Inside, it was like a giant slumber party. Some kids explored the house, chatting excitedly and carrying the teddy bears Dave had provided for each to receive upon their arrival. A few of the more timid kids sat in chairs or on couches clutching their bears, bewildered.
Marina Khodyreva, the woman from the shelter, approached carrying three teddy bears in her arms. In her mid-fifties, she had a round, pleasant face and wore her dark hair short. She exuded warmth, comfort, and acceptance. “Welcome,” she said in Russian. “My name is Marina.” She asked them their names and handed each a bear. Klara took hers and tucked it under one arm while never letting go of Quinn’s hand. Once the introductions were made, Marina said, “If you need anything, you can come to me.”
All three nodded. Maksim and Alikhan wandered away. Klara stayed with Quinn.
“My husband and I thought it might be fun to treat all the kids to McDonald’s for lunch,” Quinn said to Marina in English. “He’s on his way here now and could pick it up. We wanted to check with you first.”
With a perceptive smile, Marina said, “It is extraordinary day. Why not eat extraordinary lunch?”
Thrilled to do this for the kids, Quinn bounced on her toes. She called James and said, “Operation Mickey D’s is a go.”
“Copy that. See you soon.” From the excitement she heard in his voice, he sounded as if he had embarked on the most important mission of his career. In its own way, it kind of was.
Marina moved off, so Quinn looked down at Klara and squeezed her hand. “Come. I want to show you something.” They walked to an empty spot on a couch and sat. “Anatoly saw me once before,” Quinn said. “So I had to wear a disguise so he wouldn’t recognize me.” She was stretching the boundaries of her Russian vocabulary, so she asked, “Do you understand?”
Klara nodded slowly in rapt attention.
“I don’t really wear glasses,” Quinn said. She removed them and set them to the side. “And my hair isn’t really red.” She slipped her fingers under the hairline of the wig and lifted it off. Once the fishnet cap underneath was peeled off, she shook her head. Her blond hair tumbled down around her shoulders.
Mouth agape, Klara stared at her. Then she blinked several times and, with a sage nod, said, “It is a good disguise.”
A smile erupted and Quinn dipped her head. “Thank you.” She shot Klara an inquisitive look and held up the wig. “You want to try it?”
Her eyes like saucers, the girl scooted back in surprise. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
For the first time, a smile reached Klara’s eyes when she gave Quinn a jerky nod.
Quinn slowly lowered the wig onto Klara’s head as if it were a coronation. The wig was too big, but it didn’t matter. She grabbed her phone and took a picture.
Quinn lowered it so Klara could see the photo. The girl’s hands flew up to her mouth, and the delighted giggle that burbled up had Quinn grinning along with her. A shaft of light had pierced the darkness of that precious girl’s life. In the coming weeks, months, and even years, there would be times the seam of light would widen into a bright beam. And there would be moments when it would nearly be extinguished by the haunting shadows of her captivity. Quinn hoped for Klara, and each of the children, one day the light would overcome the darkness for good.
“I want to find Pyotr and say hello,” Quinn said. “Would you like to come with me?” With the way Klara had become Quinn’s shadow, she wasn’t surprised when the girl gave her an enthusiastic nod.
Quinn plucked the wig from Klara’s head and tossed it next to the glasses. They explored the house while they searched for Pyotr. It was big and bright and airy, with windows everywhere. And as Yonatan had said, with six bedrooms and plenty of couch space, it would easily accommodate all the kids and the adults sheltering them.
When she didn’t spot Pyotr on the first floor, she climbed the stairs with Klara by her side. After peeking into a couple of empty bedrooms, she poked her head into the bonus room. Six kids sat piled together on a large sectional in the corner, their eyes glued to a flat-screen TV showing Friends dubbed in Russian.
“Pyotr,” Quinn said.
At the sound of her voice, six heads turned toward Quinn. Five immediately returned their attention to the TV.
Pyotr slid off the couch, scampered across the room, and skidded to a stop in front of Quinn. For the first time, she realized he was almost as tall as she. He grinned at her.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for your help at the flat earlier. You were very brave to hit Viktor with that chair like that,” she said in Russian.
Pyotr squared his shoulders. “I was happy to hit back.”
Quinn smiled. “I bet you were. He’s in jail now.”
“Good. He is a bad man.” Pyotr’s head tipped to one side. “You are speaking Russian.”
“I’ve been learning so I could talk to you when I saw you again.”
“It is not bad, but you need more practice.”
“I will keep practicing,” Quinn said with a laugh.
“I will practice English,” he said, switching to that language.
She patted Pyotr’s arm and beamed at him. “Deal.” She said in Russian, “Are you hungry? We’ll be having lunch soon.”
“Always.”
She imagined Pyotr, like any teenage boy, could down three cheeseburgers and call them appetizers. To Klara, she said, “Would you like to help me get it ready or stay with Pyotr and watch television?”
“Go with you,” Klara said and took Quinn’s hand again.
“We’ll call you in a few minutes,” Quinn said to Pyotr.
Hand in hand, Quinn and Klara bounded down the stairs, the steps creaking under their feet. They were headed for the kitchen when Mila and two younger children approached. One glance told Quinn who they were.
“This is my sister and brother,” Mila said in English. She tipped her head toward the older, “Sasha,” and then toward the younger, “And Ilya.”
Other than being a boy of about ten, Ilya—with the same startling blue eyes and light blond hair—was Mila’s clone. Sasha was clearly their sister, but her slightly darker hair and green eyes set her apart.
“I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” Quinn said.
“You’re American?” Sasha asked, her eyes challenging. In that way, she definitely took after her older sister.
“I am.”
“Mila said you told her our parents looked for us. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“And they want us to come home?” Sasha’s intense gaze probed Quinn’s face, trying to discern any cracks of insincerity.
Quinn’s candor never faltered. “Very much.”
“Are we going back to America with you?”
That caught Quinn off guard. “I don’t know. It’s not up to me to decide.” This time it was Quinn’s turn to search Sasha’s face. “Do you want to?”
Quinn’s breath caught at the flash of fierce determination. “Yes. They can’t find us there.”
Ilya looked up at his sister. His huge, somber eyes turned on Quinn. The nod of agreement was almost imperceptible.
Quinn’s gaze fell on Mila. There, she saw unwavering resolve.
The conversation with Reem had nearly extinguished the fire to get them to the U. S. as soon as possible. The tenacity she read in the faces before her now stirred the cool embers. They flared hot again when she said, “I’ll do everything I can to get you back to the U. S. But I can’t make any promises. Like I said before, I don’t make the final decision.”
“I know you’ll do whatever you can,” Mila said.
The front door flew open. James sauntered in, holding aloft large bags emblazoned with golden arches. With one of the biggest smiles Quinn had ever seen grace his face, he called out in Russian, “Lunch has arrived!” He winked at her when their eyes met.
His tie was gone, his pants had a rip in the knee, and his dress shirt was smudged with dirt. But he was safe and they were together. She blew out a sigh. That was all that mattered.
Quinn strode over to him. “You could be Santa Claus with these bags of goodies. All we need to do is turn that beard of yours white,” she said and relieved him of two of the bags.
He slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side. “You can shake my belly like a bowl full of jelly anytime.”
She kissed his cheek and whispered a throaty, “I’d rather jingle your bells.”
“Ho, ho, ho.” His salacious tone and accompanying eyebrow waggle made her giggle.
Kids converged on them from all over the house, interrupting their tête-à-tête. The noise level grew to a roar when they realized the food had arrived from that mystical nirvana called McDonald’s.
Marina clapped her hands and called for attention. While she gave them instructions, James and Quinn went to the kitchen and set the bags on the counter. Quinn found several serving plates in a cupboard while James made another trip to the van to retrieve the rest of the food.
Dave went straight for the refrigerator and began to haul out plastic bottles of Coke.
“Contraband,” Quinn said in mock indignation. “Glad the police aren’t here to witness us giving Russian minors fizzy drinks.”
“They’re only banned from buying it.” He reached into the fridge and this time brought out two six-packs of Mountain Dew. “And only the caffeinated stuff, like this.” Dr Pepper came out next. “After the hell of slavery those kids have endured, I’m totally okay with giving them something unexpected and wonderful to drink.”
Quinn dumped the wrapped cheeseburgers out of the bag and began to stack them on a plate. “Amen.”
James returned with another armload of bags and set to work unloading bags of French fries.
When the food was ready, they gave Marina the go-ahead.
The kitchen fell eerily quiet as the teens and children, now lined up, filed in. With awe and reverence, they approached the counter laden with food like an altar. One after another, they each picked up a paper plate and put on it a cheeseburger and a bag of fries.
The fact that fast food could trigger such sheer wonder had Quinn swallowing at the thickness in her throat. It was so easy to take the little things in life for granted. It was a stark and sobering reminder of how extraordinarily blessed she was.
Loaded down with food and drinks, they scattered throughout the house and sat down with their lunches. They ate like kings and queens at a feast.
Now that the kids were fully occupied with lunch, James and Quinn took the opportunity to make one more trip to James’s van to get their overnight bags.
James opened the back door, but didn’t reach in. Instead, he pulled Quinn into a kiss. His lips slid to her cheek. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
Her arms around him tightened. “I’m glad you’re safe, too.” After a long stretch of simply holding each other, Quinn leaned back and rested her palms on his chest. “What happened exactly? That phone call tipped Yefimov off, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. We think it was someone in the police department. It’s hard to keep an op like that on the low-down. Someone mentions Yefimov’s name in passing and one of his inside guys gives him a heads-up. That’s all it takes.”
“I take it this”—she brushed at the dirt on his shirt—“is from when you took Yefimov down. How far did you have to run?”
“Several blocks. It was a magnificent open field tackle if I do say so myself.”
She smiled. “I’m sure it was spectacular.”
“I hauled him into an isolated corner of a random courtyard and used my tie to gag him.”
“Did you go straight to the police station? I thought you’d have wanted to interrogate him, see what he knows about Borovsky.”
He shook his head. “I asked him a few questions, but he wouldn’t answer. I couldn’t get too persuasive with him. Didn’t want to risk blowing the case we built by having him show up with a black eye.”
“So we won’t be able to get any intel on Borovsky,” she said with a frustrated sigh.
“Oh ye of little faith,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I synced Yefimov’s phone to my computer. Got every text, every call, every phone number. That’s why I insisted Yonatan take us to my van. Pickpocketed it when I dumped him on the floorboard behind the front seats. Had it sync while we were in transit. Put it back when I hauled him out. He never knew it was gone.”
“I guess I should start calling you the Artful Dodger.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Sorry I doubted you.”
“You are forgiven,” he said, his tone magnanimous. Concern clouded his face when he asked, “What about you? What you were dealing with sounded pretty bad.”
She recounted the events from chasing Mother Olga to flying through the library to fend her off. “We hightailed it out of there after I decked her with a wooden stool.”
A grin bloomed on his face. “What, no OED?”
“Sadly, no.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! And we stole a library book.”
He gaped at her, scandalized. “What would the Librarian Cabal say about such a treasonous act?”
“Given the circumstances, I think they’d give me a pass.” She cut her eyes up to him. “Besides, you know I’ll return it, even if it means mailing it back from the States.”
“Of course you will.” He kissed the tip of her nose and said, “We’d better get back inside before they send out a search party.”
“You’re right.” They grabbed their bags, returned to the house, and stowed them in a downstairs bedroom. They removed their bulletproof vests and changed into more comfortable clothes. Their colored contacts were taken out, and James peeled off his fake beard.
“One more thing,” Quinn said. She unclasped her necklace and let their wedding bands drop in her palm. They slid them on each other’s fingers. “That’s better,” she said and admired her shiny gold rings.
“Sounds like lunch is over,” James said at the increasing noise level.
They left the bedroom, and within a couple of minutes, Klara found them. “You are really her husband?”
“I am.”
“You are also American?”
“Yes.”
“Your Russian is very good,” she said with approval.
His façade of solemnity never faltered. “Thank you.”
Klara’s eyes flicked to Quinn and then back to James. In a conspiratorial tone, she said, “Her Russian isn’t as good. She promised Pyotr she would practice. You will help her?”
“Always.”
“Good,” Klara said, obviously pleased Quinn would receive desperately needed instruction. “Everyone should speak Russian.” An amused look passed between James and Quinn when Klara took one of their hands in each of hers and tugged them toward the stairs. “Now we watch television.”
And so they did.