Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner and Shoot the Moon - not me!
Translations:
Uspensky Sobor - Cathedral of the Assumption
Privyet - hello
Do svidaniya - good-bye
Da - yes
Pazhaluysta - please
Bolshoe spasibo - thank you
Bud'bditelen - beware
Vrag ne spit - the enemy does not sleep
schastleevo - good-bye and good luck
It was nearly midnight in Moscow by the time the plane touched down. Lee made his way through customs and finally out of the empty airport. He turned up the collar of his jacket and hailed a cab. The late hour made no difference in the intelligence world, and Lee knew exactly where he needed to start his search.
"Uspensky Sobor," he said to the driver with flawless accent. The man in the front seat nodded and pulled away from the airport.
When the taxi stopped in front of the Cathedral of the Assumption, Lee paid the driver and cautiously exited the vehicle. As the car pulled away, the bells rang out signifying the hour. Lee unconsciously shuddered as he glanced around the surrounding area. He noticed a trenchcoated figure come out of the cathedral. Lee smiled and followed the man silently through back streets until he entered a nearly empty teahouse. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, Lee entered the building and walked past several university students, discussing a class over tea. He sank slowly into a booth at the back of the room and smiled across the table.
"Privyet, Scarecrow," the man said warmly. He reached into the inside pocket of his uniform coat and produced an envelope.
"Privyet, Viktor," Lee answered. "I assume you know why I am here."
"It's all over Red Square. Varostov has caused quite a stir with his little revolution. Two high-ranking KGB officers have died within the past seventy-two hours. One drowned in his bath and the other was poisoned. Varostov has supporters within all departments of the Kremlin, Scarecrow. Party officials are crying treason, there is quite a price on Varostov's head, and KGB men are fleeing the country for fear of their lives. My superiors have become suspicious of me, and demoted me to guarding a smaller prison on the outskirts of the city. These were taken this morning," he continued and slid the envelope across the table. "We received a pair of convicted Christians. It appeared to be a normal propaganda conviction, but when they arrived at the prison this evening, I knew something wasn't right."
Lee opened the envelope. As he had feared, there was Jamie, being led into the back of the prison like a common criminal. He noticed Gurov was being led in behind Jamie. He let out a small sigh of relief. At least Gurov was there to protect the boy. Viktor poured Lee some tea and set it in front of him.
"This is personal, isn't it, Scarecrow?" he asked.
"The boy is my stepson, Viktor," Lee replied, sipping the hot tea. "Varostov wants me in exchange for his life."
Viktor shook his head. "Varostov is a crazy bastard. He needs to be stopped before something serious actually happens," he said, reaching for a lemon. "Lemon in your tea, Scarecrow?"
"Pazhaluysta," Lee replied as his contact squeezed the sour juice into his cup.
"I will put my ear to the ground, and I will also do my best to keep an eye on your son. There was already an argument over cigarettes. He seems so little to be-"
"Very long story, Viktor. Was he hurt?" Lee cut him off.
"No. An older prisoner wanted to tattoo the boy, and Gurov threw the first punch. They've moved Gurov to solitary confinement. I left before they did anything with the boy," Viktor replied, wishing he had stayed around to keep a closer eye on things.
Lee shuddered. He had heard stories about Soviet prison tattoos. Prisoners rarely made it out of prison without one. It was like another language. Every tattoo meant something to fellow convicts; ranging from religious statements, to anti-government oaths, to confessions of drug addictions. Lee shuddered again. He couldn't worry about it now; he just needed to get some answers.
"Keep your ears open, Viktor. I'll find you if I need anything," Lee said as he stood to go.
"I will, Scarecrow," he replied, extending his hand. "Bud'bditelen, Scarecrow. Vrag ne spit!"
"Bolshoe spasibo, Viktor. Do svidaniya," Lee shook his hand and turned to leave.
"Schastleevo, Scarecrow!"
Jamie tried to scream, but the older man had covered his mouth. They were all speaking in Russian, and Jamie could not understand what they were saying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another prisoner stirring something in a small cup. Someone else handed the older man a thick piece of leather, which he placed in between Jamie's teeth. He was still holding the boy down as the other prisoner came over with the cup and what looked like a large fishhook. The older man pulled the sleeve of Jamie's shirt up. The prisoner dipped the fishhook in the cup and moved it towards Jamie's arm. The boy immediately began to squirm and try to get away. The older man was sympathetic and punched him once in the face, rendering him unconscious while the other prisoner proceeded with his task.
When Jamie came to, he was lying in the corner of the small cell, curled up into a ball. Gurov was immediately at his side.
"Are you all right, young one?" he asked.
Jamie answered him by vomiting on the floor next to him. The blow to the head had been more than he could handle, and his entire body seemed to throb. His breathing was even more painful than it had been before, and his right arm was agonizing. Jamie could not answer the man, but began to cry.
Gurov bent down to comfort the boy. His arm was still swollen and red around the tattoo, but it at least it had stopped bleeding. He did not exactly know how to comfort the child, so he rolled up his sleeve.
"Look, young one. You and I are comrades for certain, now," he smiled, revealing the tattoo of a black spider on his arm, close to his shoulder. "It is the mark of a nicotine addict. The least painful of any tattoo you might have received. Be glad you did not break any serious laws, young one," Gurov said, and nodded to another prisoner leaning against the far wall of the cell. He had just been tattooed with an image of the Madonna, and his chest was still bleeding. The prisoner mumbled nonsense, delirious from the pain.
Jamie continued to cry, and Gurov gently patted his leg, the only part of Jamie's body he could think of that had not been injured. All of the boy's toes were blue now, and it would not be much longer before Jamie began to drift into delirium himself. Pyotr had notified Gurov of the broken rib, and it was luck that he had not punctured his lung thus far.
"How long are we going to be in here, Nikolai?" Jamie managed in between sobs.
"Not much longer, young one," Gurov replied. "Not much longer."
Jamie's sobs finally began to subside, and he drifted back to sleep, too exhausted to do much else. Gurov leaned back against the wall of the cell and decided that the child's pain could not continue. He was so far into Varostov's agenda now, there would be no way he could possibly come out of this operation alive. When the time came, he decided, it would be easy to give himself up for the boy's sake. Gurov remained awake while the boy slept, determined to protect him until Scarecrow arrived to take him back to his family.
After several hours of quiet in the cold prison, things began to come back to life as the guards changed shifts. The other prisoners in the cell were up, screaming down the dank corridor for food and cigarettes. A single guard came to the cell Gurov and Jamie were being held in and peered into the darkness.
"Nikolai?" he questioned, not being able to see all the way to the back of the cell.
"Da," Gurov replied. "Privyet, Viktor!" He smiled for the first time in days at the sight of the young prison guard. The two conversed for several minutes in hushed tones. Jamie woke again while Gurov was at the front of the cell. His vision was blurred, but he could distinguish Gurov's voice. He tried to sit up and speak, but his body was failing him. He gave up and collapsed back into sleep.
Viktor finished his conversation and left Gurov standing at the front of the cell. He turned and checked on Jamie, who was still asleep. He shook his head. Viktor and Scarecrow had to come through for the boy. Gurov did not want the blood of an innocent on his hands.
Viktor had begged ill with his superiors and they had dismissed him from duty as soon as a replacement arrived. He had seen the boy, and what he hadn't been able to draw from his appearance Nikolai had filled in for him. Hypothermia, at least one broken rib, and a probable concussion were added to the normal prisoner's list of dehydration and broken spirit. He quickly made his way down Gorky Street. The word would be out about Scarecrow, and he would not be hard to track down.
Lee hung up the phone. Billy had begged to send Francine, but Lee would not hear of it. Varostov was old, he had said. It was only a matter of time before someone slipped up. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Most of his contacts had fled the country, fearing for their own lives. Varostov's influence was everywhere, and though they wanted to help the Scarecrow, their own personal safety had taken first priority. Slowly, he meandered through the picturesque streets of the Kremlin, making his way once again to the cathedral.
Viktor was there waiting for him. He had an urgent look on his face, and they did not stop at their normal teahouse to talk. Viktor led him further and further away from the city square, and into the poorer district where the bazaar and small shops seemed to cover every inch of available space. Lee noticed he had lost Viktor. He cursed under his breath as he continued to walk. He was passing a small shop as someone pulled him into the building.
"Things are bad, Scarecrow," Viktor whispered as they stood next to each other, browsing items in the store. "The boy is not well. Gurov wants to help. I am going to take the overnight shift this evening and you will need to be there. It is a small prison, and it will not be difficult to get the boy and Nikolai out. He only asks that you accompany him to take care of Varostov in return."
"What am I going to do with Jamie once we get him out of the prison? He's hurt and I can't just leave him-"
"My sister will be waiting for us outside the prison gates. She is a nurse, and she will take the boy to our flat and care for him. Gurov assures us it will not take long to get to Varostov," Viktor said. "What do you think, Scarecrow?"
"I think it's my only choice," he sighed.
"Come with me to our flat, Scarecrow. You have not eaten nor rested since you got here. The boy needs you to be on your toes tonight," Viktor said. Lee nodded and they separated again in the street on the way to Viktor's house.
Gurov knelt next to the boy. His entire body was like ice, but at least he had shoes on. Damn Varostov for having Pyotr take the shoes. Damn Varostov for escaping the prison. Damn Varostov! The boy stirred and opened his eyes.
"Can you see me, young one?" he asked.
Jamie merely shook his head in reply and closed his eyes again. Gurov guessed the boy was too dehydrated to cry anymore.
"Scarecrow is coming, young one. Just like you said he would," he tried to reassure the boy, but knew he probably hadn't heard him.
Viktor woke Lee at 11:30. His sister, Zoya, had prepared a meal for them and they had discussed briefly the plan for the night, and then Lee had gone into Viktor's room and collapsed in exhaustion.
"Put the uniform on, Scarecrow. You are on orders from the larger prison to inspect our cells. More than likely there will be no questions asked. The night guards are young and foolish. We will take Nikolai and the boy out the door that they entered the cell through. Zoya will be waiting outside the gates with a car hopefully, otherwise we will have to be cautious walking back to the flat. If anything should go wrong, take the boy and let me and Nikolai handle the situation," Viktor said quietly.
Lee nodded as he finished buttoning the uniform. He pulled the cap down low and they left the flat, pausing for Viktor to kiss his sister goodbye. They walked through the streets together, talking and joking loudly in Russian, as young Communists should. Lee's body tensed as the prison came into view. He could not think of Jamie, only of getting two people out of the prison as quietly as possible. There would be time for emotions later.
Viktor was right about the other guards. They were all gathered in the front station playing cards when he and Lee entered the building. The guards scrambled to their feet to salute their superior, but Viktor merely laughed and motioned for them to continue with the game. He introduced his comrade, and the guards greeted Lee kindly. Viktor again motioned for them to continue with the game, and then led Lee down the stairs and into the dark corridor where Jamie and Gurov's cell was located.
Lee caught his breath at the sight of Jamie, who was still unconscious. Gurov noticed Viktor and the other man and instantly jumped to his feet. The other prisoners in the cell had long since fallen asleep, and their escape would be simple.
Viktor opened the cell door quietly, and Gurov bent to pick up the boy. Lee entered the cell and stopped him.
"Bolshoe spasibo, Nikolai, but I will carry the boy if you don't mind," he said coldly.
"Pazhaluysta, Scarecrow. Be my guest," Gurov responded and joined Viktor outside the cell door.
Lee felt tears pricking at his eyes and clenched his jaw as he looked down at Jamie. The boy was terribly light in his arms, and had not stirred since they left the cell.
"Hang on, Jamie. We're almost home free," Lee whispered.
Zoya was waiting in a small car outside the prison gates. Lee carefully lowered himself into the front seat, Jamie still in his arms. Zoya took one look at the boy and gave Lee a concerned look. Gurov and Viktor closed the doors, and they were on their way back to the flat.
Lee looked down at Jamie. The left side of his face was swollen, and a black bruise surrounded his eye. His hair had barely started to grow back. Lee was scared the most by how cold and light the boy felt in his arms. It was like holding a block of ice. Some of his toes were nearly black now. Lee cringed and clenched his jaw again to prevent the tears from falling.
They entered the flat through the back of the building and once inside the safety of the room, Zoya had carefully taken Jamie from Lee and placed him gently on her brother's bed. She spoke in Russian, saying she would be able to keep the boy alive but he was going to need to be hospitalized for the hypothermia and concussion as soon as possible. Lee looked down at his stepson, trying to reassure himself that it would be all right to leave his side.
"We must go now, Scarecrow, so you can get out of the country and get the boy some medical attention," Viktor said quietly to his friend. Lee nodded. He rubbed Jamie's hand with his own two, and promised the boy without speaking that he would be back as soon as he could. Zoya reassured Lee that she would take very good care of him.
Viktor placed a reassuring hand on Lee's back, and he let go of Jamie's hand. He stood up slowly, and turned to face Gurov.
"Take me to the bastard responsible for this," Lee said coldly.
"I would happy to, Scarecrow," the tall man replied.
Translations:
Uspensky Sobor - Cathedral of the Assumption
Privyet - hello
Do svidaniya - good-bye
Da - yes
Pazhaluysta - please
Bolshoe spasibo - thank you
Bud'bditelen - beware
Vrag ne spit - the enemy does not sleep
schastleevo - good-bye and good luck
It was nearly midnight in Moscow by the time the plane touched down. Lee made his way through customs and finally out of the empty airport. He turned up the collar of his jacket and hailed a cab. The late hour made no difference in the intelligence world, and Lee knew exactly where he needed to start his search.
"Uspensky Sobor," he said to the driver with flawless accent. The man in the front seat nodded and pulled away from the airport.
When the taxi stopped in front of the Cathedral of the Assumption, Lee paid the driver and cautiously exited the vehicle. As the car pulled away, the bells rang out signifying the hour. Lee unconsciously shuddered as he glanced around the surrounding area. He noticed a trenchcoated figure come out of the cathedral. Lee smiled and followed the man silently through back streets until he entered a nearly empty teahouse. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, Lee entered the building and walked past several university students, discussing a class over tea. He sank slowly into a booth at the back of the room and smiled across the table.
"Privyet, Scarecrow," the man said warmly. He reached into the inside pocket of his uniform coat and produced an envelope.
"Privyet, Viktor," Lee answered. "I assume you know why I am here."
"It's all over Red Square. Varostov has caused quite a stir with his little revolution. Two high-ranking KGB officers have died within the past seventy-two hours. One drowned in his bath and the other was poisoned. Varostov has supporters within all departments of the Kremlin, Scarecrow. Party officials are crying treason, there is quite a price on Varostov's head, and KGB men are fleeing the country for fear of their lives. My superiors have become suspicious of me, and demoted me to guarding a smaller prison on the outskirts of the city. These were taken this morning," he continued and slid the envelope across the table. "We received a pair of convicted Christians. It appeared to be a normal propaganda conviction, but when they arrived at the prison this evening, I knew something wasn't right."
Lee opened the envelope. As he had feared, there was Jamie, being led into the back of the prison like a common criminal. He noticed Gurov was being led in behind Jamie. He let out a small sigh of relief. At least Gurov was there to protect the boy. Viktor poured Lee some tea and set it in front of him.
"This is personal, isn't it, Scarecrow?" he asked.
"The boy is my stepson, Viktor," Lee replied, sipping the hot tea. "Varostov wants me in exchange for his life."
Viktor shook his head. "Varostov is a crazy bastard. He needs to be stopped before something serious actually happens," he said, reaching for a lemon. "Lemon in your tea, Scarecrow?"
"Pazhaluysta," Lee replied as his contact squeezed the sour juice into his cup.
"I will put my ear to the ground, and I will also do my best to keep an eye on your son. There was already an argument over cigarettes. He seems so little to be-"
"Very long story, Viktor. Was he hurt?" Lee cut him off.
"No. An older prisoner wanted to tattoo the boy, and Gurov threw the first punch. They've moved Gurov to solitary confinement. I left before they did anything with the boy," Viktor replied, wishing he had stayed around to keep a closer eye on things.
Lee shuddered. He had heard stories about Soviet prison tattoos. Prisoners rarely made it out of prison without one. It was like another language. Every tattoo meant something to fellow convicts; ranging from religious statements, to anti-government oaths, to confessions of drug addictions. Lee shuddered again. He couldn't worry about it now; he just needed to get some answers.
"Keep your ears open, Viktor. I'll find you if I need anything," Lee said as he stood to go.
"I will, Scarecrow," he replied, extending his hand. "Bud'bditelen, Scarecrow. Vrag ne spit!"
"Bolshoe spasibo, Viktor. Do svidaniya," Lee shook his hand and turned to leave.
"Schastleevo, Scarecrow!"
Jamie tried to scream, but the older man had covered his mouth. They were all speaking in Russian, and Jamie could not understand what they were saying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another prisoner stirring something in a small cup. Someone else handed the older man a thick piece of leather, which he placed in between Jamie's teeth. He was still holding the boy down as the other prisoner came over with the cup and what looked like a large fishhook. The older man pulled the sleeve of Jamie's shirt up. The prisoner dipped the fishhook in the cup and moved it towards Jamie's arm. The boy immediately began to squirm and try to get away. The older man was sympathetic and punched him once in the face, rendering him unconscious while the other prisoner proceeded with his task.
When Jamie came to, he was lying in the corner of the small cell, curled up into a ball. Gurov was immediately at his side.
"Are you all right, young one?" he asked.
Jamie answered him by vomiting on the floor next to him. The blow to the head had been more than he could handle, and his entire body seemed to throb. His breathing was even more painful than it had been before, and his right arm was agonizing. Jamie could not answer the man, but began to cry.
Gurov bent down to comfort the boy. His arm was still swollen and red around the tattoo, but it at least it had stopped bleeding. He did not exactly know how to comfort the child, so he rolled up his sleeve.
"Look, young one. You and I are comrades for certain, now," he smiled, revealing the tattoo of a black spider on his arm, close to his shoulder. "It is the mark of a nicotine addict. The least painful of any tattoo you might have received. Be glad you did not break any serious laws, young one," Gurov said, and nodded to another prisoner leaning against the far wall of the cell. He had just been tattooed with an image of the Madonna, and his chest was still bleeding. The prisoner mumbled nonsense, delirious from the pain.
Jamie continued to cry, and Gurov gently patted his leg, the only part of Jamie's body he could think of that had not been injured. All of the boy's toes were blue now, and it would not be much longer before Jamie began to drift into delirium himself. Pyotr had notified Gurov of the broken rib, and it was luck that he had not punctured his lung thus far.
"How long are we going to be in here, Nikolai?" Jamie managed in between sobs.
"Not much longer, young one," Gurov replied. "Not much longer."
Jamie's sobs finally began to subside, and he drifted back to sleep, too exhausted to do much else. Gurov leaned back against the wall of the cell and decided that the child's pain could not continue. He was so far into Varostov's agenda now, there would be no way he could possibly come out of this operation alive. When the time came, he decided, it would be easy to give himself up for the boy's sake. Gurov remained awake while the boy slept, determined to protect him until Scarecrow arrived to take him back to his family.
After several hours of quiet in the cold prison, things began to come back to life as the guards changed shifts. The other prisoners in the cell were up, screaming down the dank corridor for food and cigarettes. A single guard came to the cell Gurov and Jamie were being held in and peered into the darkness.
"Nikolai?" he questioned, not being able to see all the way to the back of the cell.
"Da," Gurov replied. "Privyet, Viktor!" He smiled for the first time in days at the sight of the young prison guard. The two conversed for several minutes in hushed tones. Jamie woke again while Gurov was at the front of the cell. His vision was blurred, but he could distinguish Gurov's voice. He tried to sit up and speak, but his body was failing him. He gave up and collapsed back into sleep.
Viktor finished his conversation and left Gurov standing at the front of the cell. He turned and checked on Jamie, who was still asleep. He shook his head. Viktor and Scarecrow had to come through for the boy. Gurov did not want the blood of an innocent on his hands.
Viktor had begged ill with his superiors and they had dismissed him from duty as soon as a replacement arrived. He had seen the boy, and what he hadn't been able to draw from his appearance Nikolai had filled in for him. Hypothermia, at least one broken rib, and a probable concussion were added to the normal prisoner's list of dehydration and broken spirit. He quickly made his way down Gorky Street. The word would be out about Scarecrow, and he would not be hard to track down.
Lee hung up the phone. Billy had begged to send Francine, but Lee would not hear of it. Varostov was old, he had said. It was only a matter of time before someone slipped up. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Most of his contacts had fled the country, fearing for their own lives. Varostov's influence was everywhere, and though they wanted to help the Scarecrow, their own personal safety had taken first priority. Slowly, he meandered through the picturesque streets of the Kremlin, making his way once again to the cathedral.
Viktor was there waiting for him. He had an urgent look on his face, and they did not stop at their normal teahouse to talk. Viktor led him further and further away from the city square, and into the poorer district where the bazaar and small shops seemed to cover every inch of available space. Lee noticed he had lost Viktor. He cursed under his breath as he continued to walk. He was passing a small shop as someone pulled him into the building.
"Things are bad, Scarecrow," Viktor whispered as they stood next to each other, browsing items in the store. "The boy is not well. Gurov wants to help. I am going to take the overnight shift this evening and you will need to be there. It is a small prison, and it will not be difficult to get the boy and Nikolai out. He only asks that you accompany him to take care of Varostov in return."
"What am I going to do with Jamie once we get him out of the prison? He's hurt and I can't just leave him-"
"My sister will be waiting for us outside the prison gates. She is a nurse, and she will take the boy to our flat and care for him. Gurov assures us it will not take long to get to Varostov," Viktor said. "What do you think, Scarecrow?"
"I think it's my only choice," he sighed.
"Come with me to our flat, Scarecrow. You have not eaten nor rested since you got here. The boy needs you to be on your toes tonight," Viktor said. Lee nodded and they separated again in the street on the way to Viktor's house.
Gurov knelt next to the boy. His entire body was like ice, but at least he had shoes on. Damn Varostov for having Pyotr take the shoes. Damn Varostov for escaping the prison. Damn Varostov! The boy stirred and opened his eyes.
"Can you see me, young one?" he asked.
Jamie merely shook his head in reply and closed his eyes again. Gurov guessed the boy was too dehydrated to cry anymore.
"Scarecrow is coming, young one. Just like you said he would," he tried to reassure the boy, but knew he probably hadn't heard him.
Viktor woke Lee at 11:30. His sister, Zoya, had prepared a meal for them and they had discussed briefly the plan for the night, and then Lee had gone into Viktor's room and collapsed in exhaustion.
"Put the uniform on, Scarecrow. You are on orders from the larger prison to inspect our cells. More than likely there will be no questions asked. The night guards are young and foolish. We will take Nikolai and the boy out the door that they entered the cell through. Zoya will be waiting outside the gates with a car hopefully, otherwise we will have to be cautious walking back to the flat. If anything should go wrong, take the boy and let me and Nikolai handle the situation," Viktor said quietly.
Lee nodded as he finished buttoning the uniform. He pulled the cap down low and they left the flat, pausing for Viktor to kiss his sister goodbye. They walked through the streets together, talking and joking loudly in Russian, as young Communists should. Lee's body tensed as the prison came into view. He could not think of Jamie, only of getting two people out of the prison as quietly as possible. There would be time for emotions later.
Viktor was right about the other guards. They were all gathered in the front station playing cards when he and Lee entered the building. The guards scrambled to their feet to salute their superior, but Viktor merely laughed and motioned for them to continue with the game. He introduced his comrade, and the guards greeted Lee kindly. Viktor again motioned for them to continue with the game, and then led Lee down the stairs and into the dark corridor where Jamie and Gurov's cell was located.
Lee caught his breath at the sight of Jamie, who was still unconscious. Gurov noticed Viktor and the other man and instantly jumped to his feet. The other prisoners in the cell had long since fallen asleep, and their escape would be simple.
Viktor opened the cell door quietly, and Gurov bent to pick up the boy. Lee entered the cell and stopped him.
"Bolshoe spasibo, Nikolai, but I will carry the boy if you don't mind," he said coldly.
"Pazhaluysta, Scarecrow. Be my guest," Gurov responded and joined Viktor outside the cell door.
Lee felt tears pricking at his eyes and clenched his jaw as he looked down at Jamie. The boy was terribly light in his arms, and had not stirred since they left the cell.
"Hang on, Jamie. We're almost home free," Lee whispered.
Zoya was waiting in a small car outside the prison gates. Lee carefully lowered himself into the front seat, Jamie still in his arms. Zoya took one look at the boy and gave Lee a concerned look. Gurov and Viktor closed the doors, and they were on their way back to the flat.
Lee looked down at Jamie. The left side of his face was swollen, and a black bruise surrounded his eye. His hair had barely started to grow back. Lee was scared the most by how cold and light the boy felt in his arms. It was like holding a block of ice. Some of his toes were nearly black now. Lee cringed and clenched his jaw again to prevent the tears from falling.
They entered the flat through the back of the building and once inside the safety of the room, Zoya had carefully taken Jamie from Lee and placed him gently on her brother's bed. She spoke in Russian, saying she would be able to keep the boy alive but he was going to need to be hospitalized for the hypothermia and concussion as soon as possible. Lee looked down at his stepson, trying to reassure himself that it would be all right to leave his side.
"We must go now, Scarecrow, so you can get out of the country and get the boy some medical attention," Viktor said quietly to his friend. Lee nodded. He rubbed Jamie's hand with his own two, and promised the boy without speaking that he would be back as soon as he could. Zoya reassured Lee that she would take very good care of him.
Viktor placed a reassuring hand on Lee's back, and he let go of Jamie's hand. He stood up slowly, and turned to face Gurov.
"Take me to the bastard responsible for this," Lee said coldly.
"I would happy to, Scarecrow," the tall man replied.