Yekaterinburg
City Morgue
December 6
1530 local
"This is the place?"
"According to the sign, yeah," Mac replied, looking at the dreary
building, before turning to him. "Welcome to the Yekaterinburg City
Morgue. I don't suppose you've got a plan?"
Harm paused a moment to consider their options. "Only the obvious
one."
"Walk in and ask for Mercedes?"
"Yeah."
"Harm, that's not a plan, that's painting targets on our backs,"
Mac stated.
"I said it was a plan, I didn't say it was a good one," he replied
a little defensively. Mac just looked at him, her expression somewhere
between amusement and irritation. "Besides, I don't hear you coming up
with anything better, Marine," he added.
She had to concede that point. "I just think going into a
government office and asking for a foreigner may be a really bad idea,
Harm. If--" Mac stopped short, then added, "Never mind."
But Harm caught her slip. "What were you going to say, Mac?" he
asked.
"It's nothing, Harm. Now come on, we need to think of a better
option."
"Come on, Mac, what were you going to say?" he badgered.
She sighed loudly. "Fine. If Mercedes is anything like you, she's
already in trouble up to her eyeballs."
He had the good grace to look affronted, but only for a moment
before chuckling ruefully. "I should be insulted," he said grinning,
"except it's true. Maybe I need to find CD a pet Marine to watch her
six," he joked.
Mac's eyebrows rose. "*Pet* Marine? More like a babysitter.
Besides, if we're lucky she's got a spook on her tail."
"Yeah. I wonder where the heck Webb is anyway?"
**********************************************************************
The Cabin outside Yekaterinburg
Same time
Clayton Webb was half-awake... and convinced he had died and gone
to heaven. Here it was the middle of the afternoon, and he had nothing
more demanding of his attention than what he was doing at the moment--
lounging, half-dressed, in a warm, comfortable bed. That alone was
cause for celebration, since there were weeks where the closest he got
to sleeping in a bed were a few minutes of sleep snatched in a
convenient chair.
So the current situation was already better that usual. But it
went beyond merely 'better', and was bordering on the stuff of dreams.
For the warm, comfortable bed was in an isolated cabin, with a
delightful fire roaring in the nearby hearth. But best of all, there
was a soft, warm, beautiful and equally half-dressed female in the bed
with him. And not just with him... In her sleep, she had moved so
that her curvaceous figure was entwined with his body, her strong,
silken, bare legs sliding between his own, and her warm breath tickling
the crook of his neck.
Much as he didn't want to admit it, Mercedes Rabb was becoming a
very powerful distraction. He didn't want to consider that there might
be more to it than that. It wasn't a luxury he could afford.
A soft sound, a mix of a low murmur and a felinelike purr, came
from beside him. He turned his head to look at her, only to find her
gazing at him through heavy-lidded eyes that held some indefinable
emotion. Silence reigned as they simply gazed at each other.
Clay watched as Mercedes's eyes dropped, focusing on his lips. She
propped herself up a bit on one arm, while her other hand tentatively
moved from its resting spot in his chest to trace the side of his
face. Slowly, it traced the curve of his chin, before the tip of one
slim finger slid up to trace the outline of his lips. Then, her leg
sliding against his, she moved, this time caressing his lips with her
own.
It was too much. He leaned into the kiss, sliding his hands up her
arms to caress her neck, before burying them in the white-gold silk of
her hair. Eagerly, he returned the kiss, tracing the seam of her lips
with his tongue.
She responded in kind, granting his the desired access. Soon, they
were engaged in a passionate duel as they explored each other's
mouths. Only the mutual need for air caused them to stop, Mercedes
burying her face in the crook of her neck.
Slowly, agonizingly, Clay fought his way back to rational
thought. "Mercedes," he began, her name coming out in a breathy
whisper, "I don't think---"
At that precise moment, she placed a soft, feather-light kiss
where his pulse beat a furious rhythm beneath his skin. "Don't
think... just feel," she whispered into his ear, before trailing more
soft kisses down the side of his neck. He closed his eyes as pleasure
flooded through him, his hands seeking. Then, as she reached the base
of his neck, she nipped gently at the delicate skin there. In that
instant, his control snapped.
****************
City Morgue
"Mac...are you sure this is the best idea?"
Mac could only roll her eyes in exasperation as she turned to her
partner. "No, but it happens to be the only way into the morgue I can
think of," she snapped, adding mentally 'that is, without throttling
you.'
Harm backed off. "Sorry...I'm just worried. I don't like this,"
he replied, while admitting to himself that what he didn't like was her
being a part of it.
"I don't either, Harm. But at least we remembered the name of
Mercedes's friend. Hopefully he can help us find her. Now come on."
*****
Together, they approached the reception desk and the surly-looking
individual behind it. Harm hung back as Mac stepped forward and smiled
at the dour receptionist. "Hello," she said, greeting him brightly
in Russian. "We're here to see a friend of ours, Georgi Sevastinov."
The man's eyes went wide as he fumbled for the phone. "Just a
moment, please," he told Mac, dialing a number and then speaking
rapidly, in a low tone of voice. Despite her attempts, Mac couldn't
discern what was being said, and glanced back at Harm. The expression
on his face told her he too was bothered by the receptionist's
reaction. Something was going on.
The receptionist had barely hung up when Harm and Mac heard
footsteps behind them. Turning, they saw three men, two of whom were
uniformed police officers. The third, though dressed casually, also
appeared to be police. Harm instinctively stepped closer and a little
bit in front of Mac.
The plainclothes officer in the center addressed them. "You are
asking for Georgi Sevastinov? Come with me, please," he said
formally, watching them with hawklike eyes, even as the other two
officers moved to the sides and 'surrounded' Harm and Mac.
Harm glanced at Mac, silently asking 'Now what?'. She glanced at
him, then at the police officers standing obviously on guard, their
hands on their weapons. She returned her gaze to Harm, taking his hand
at the same time and nodding. He read the message clearly: 'Play along,
but stay together.' She looked back at the plainclothes officer, who
motioned for them to follow him, the two uniformed officers falling in
behind them.
They were led to a small, poorly lit, windowless office, where the
superior gestured for them to sit in the two chairs facing the desk.
Once they and the officer were seated, the two uniformed officers were
dismissed, closing the door behind them as they left.
The man behind the desk regarded them speculatively, before fixing
his gaze on Mac. "While your command of the Russian language is most
impressive, I suspect your comrade here is not familiar with the mother
tongue," he told Mac in Russian, before switching to English.
"Therefore, let us speak so that he may also understand. I am
Inspector Gennady Karpov, of the Yekaterinburg police. I understand
you're looking for Georgi Sevastinov." Mac nodded, and the Inspector
paused before continuing.
"Regrettably, Comrade Sevastinov was murdered in his lab several
days ago. Shot in the head." The Inspector was watching them both
closely. "It is my understanding that he was working on some
unidentified remains with an American scientist, one Mercedes Rabb.
Comrade Sevastinov was found in the lab, which was largely
destroyed, and now the remains and Miss Rabb are missing. An
unacceptable situation."
"So, you see, when two Americans show up at the morgue looking for
the deceased Comrade Sevastinov, I cannot help be suspicious. I cannot
help but suspect it is not Georgi Sevastinov you are seeking, but
Mercedes Rabb," the Inspector finished.
As Harm and Mac glanced at each other, their thoughts ran along
similar lines: what on earth had Mercedes done? Wisely, they remained
silent, contemplating their options and how to communicate them with
the other.
Inspector Karpov watched the silent exchange, studying the pair in
front of him carefully. This was by far the most unusual case he'd
ever encountered, and he had no leads beyond the well-dressed Americans
in front of him. He was not about to let them leave his sight.
"Do you deny that you know this Mercedes Rabb?" Karpov questioned.
Neither Harm nor Mac said a word. "What are you doing here in Russia?"
The Inspector continued. "How do you know Georgi Sevastinov? Where
were you the night of his murder?"
Harm dared a glance at Mac as the rapid-fire inquisition
continued. This was rapidly getting out of hand, and he definitely
didn't like the direction the Inspector's questions were taking.
Dammit, this was why he didn't want Mac here in the first place...
"Nothing?" Karpov finally asked, before pressing a call button on
his desk. "Very well." The two uniformed officers returned, along
with two more. Karpov turned back to Harm and Mac.
"Let us see what some time in the local jail will do to loosen
your tongues. You are both under arrest on suspicion of murder and
theft of state property," he announced, then turned to one of the
uniformed officers. "Make sure they are separated and put in the lower
levels," he ordered.
"NO!" Harm cried, standing, trying to shield Mac. "We stay
together," he insisted loudly.
That was all the signaled the four uniformed officers needed.
Three fought to restrain Harm, while a fourth quickly handcuffed Mac.
Harm saw red as the man brutally yanked her arms back, then began an
overly thorough search of her body. "Dammit, leave her alone!" he
bellowed, fighting the grasp of the officers trying to hold him back.
Mac's cry of "Harm, no," was lost as pain exploded behind his
eyes, then mercifully gave way to darkness.
TBC.....
City Morgue
December 6
1530 local
"This is the place?"
"According to the sign, yeah," Mac replied, looking at the dreary
building, before turning to him. "Welcome to the Yekaterinburg City
Morgue. I don't suppose you've got a plan?"
Harm paused a moment to consider their options. "Only the obvious
one."
"Walk in and ask for Mercedes?"
"Yeah."
"Harm, that's not a plan, that's painting targets on our backs,"
Mac stated.
"I said it was a plan, I didn't say it was a good one," he replied
a little defensively. Mac just looked at him, her expression somewhere
between amusement and irritation. "Besides, I don't hear you coming up
with anything better, Marine," he added.
She had to concede that point. "I just think going into a
government office and asking for a foreigner may be a really bad idea,
Harm. If--" Mac stopped short, then added, "Never mind."
But Harm caught her slip. "What were you going to say, Mac?" he
asked.
"It's nothing, Harm. Now come on, we need to think of a better
option."
"Come on, Mac, what were you going to say?" he badgered.
She sighed loudly. "Fine. If Mercedes is anything like you, she's
already in trouble up to her eyeballs."
He had the good grace to look affronted, but only for a moment
before chuckling ruefully. "I should be insulted," he said grinning,
"except it's true. Maybe I need to find CD a pet Marine to watch her
six," he joked.
Mac's eyebrows rose. "*Pet* Marine? More like a babysitter.
Besides, if we're lucky she's got a spook on her tail."
"Yeah. I wonder where the heck Webb is anyway?"
**********************************************************************
The Cabin outside Yekaterinburg
Same time
Clayton Webb was half-awake... and convinced he had died and gone
to heaven. Here it was the middle of the afternoon, and he had nothing
more demanding of his attention than what he was doing at the moment--
lounging, half-dressed, in a warm, comfortable bed. That alone was
cause for celebration, since there were weeks where the closest he got
to sleeping in a bed were a few minutes of sleep snatched in a
convenient chair.
So the current situation was already better that usual. But it
went beyond merely 'better', and was bordering on the stuff of dreams.
For the warm, comfortable bed was in an isolated cabin, with a
delightful fire roaring in the nearby hearth. But best of all, there
was a soft, warm, beautiful and equally half-dressed female in the bed
with him. And not just with him... In her sleep, she had moved so
that her curvaceous figure was entwined with his body, her strong,
silken, bare legs sliding between his own, and her warm breath tickling
the crook of his neck.
Much as he didn't want to admit it, Mercedes Rabb was becoming a
very powerful distraction. He didn't want to consider that there might
be more to it than that. It wasn't a luxury he could afford.
A soft sound, a mix of a low murmur and a felinelike purr, came
from beside him. He turned his head to look at her, only to find her
gazing at him through heavy-lidded eyes that held some indefinable
emotion. Silence reigned as they simply gazed at each other.
Clay watched as Mercedes's eyes dropped, focusing on his lips. She
propped herself up a bit on one arm, while her other hand tentatively
moved from its resting spot in his chest to trace the side of his
face. Slowly, it traced the curve of his chin, before the tip of one
slim finger slid up to trace the outline of his lips. Then, her leg
sliding against his, she moved, this time caressing his lips with her
own.
It was too much. He leaned into the kiss, sliding his hands up her
arms to caress her neck, before burying them in the white-gold silk of
her hair. Eagerly, he returned the kiss, tracing the seam of her lips
with his tongue.
She responded in kind, granting his the desired access. Soon, they
were engaged in a passionate duel as they explored each other's
mouths. Only the mutual need for air caused them to stop, Mercedes
burying her face in the crook of her neck.
Slowly, agonizingly, Clay fought his way back to rational
thought. "Mercedes," he began, her name coming out in a breathy
whisper, "I don't think---"
At that precise moment, she placed a soft, feather-light kiss
where his pulse beat a furious rhythm beneath his skin. "Don't
think... just feel," she whispered into his ear, before trailing more
soft kisses down the side of his neck. He closed his eyes as pleasure
flooded through him, his hands seeking. Then, as she reached the base
of his neck, she nipped gently at the delicate skin there. In that
instant, his control snapped.
****************
City Morgue
"Mac...are you sure this is the best idea?"
Mac could only roll her eyes in exasperation as she turned to her
partner. "No, but it happens to be the only way into the morgue I can
think of," she snapped, adding mentally 'that is, without throttling
you.'
Harm backed off. "Sorry...I'm just worried. I don't like this,"
he replied, while admitting to himself that what he didn't like was her
being a part of it.
"I don't either, Harm. But at least we remembered the name of
Mercedes's friend. Hopefully he can help us find her. Now come on."
*****
Together, they approached the reception desk and the surly-looking
individual behind it. Harm hung back as Mac stepped forward and smiled
at the dour receptionist. "Hello," she said, greeting him brightly
in Russian. "We're here to see a friend of ours, Georgi Sevastinov."
The man's eyes went wide as he fumbled for the phone. "Just a
moment, please," he told Mac, dialing a number and then speaking
rapidly, in a low tone of voice. Despite her attempts, Mac couldn't
discern what was being said, and glanced back at Harm. The expression
on his face told her he too was bothered by the receptionist's
reaction. Something was going on.
The receptionist had barely hung up when Harm and Mac heard
footsteps behind them. Turning, they saw three men, two of whom were
uniformed police officers. The third, though dressed casually, also
appeared to be police. Harm instinctively stepped closer and a little
bit in front of Mac.
The plainclothes officer in the center addressed them. "You are
asking for Georgi Sevastinov? Come with me, please," he said
formally, watching them with hawklike eyes, even as the other two
officers moved to the sides and 'surrounded' Harm and Mac.
Harm glanced at Mac, silently asking 'Now what?'. She glanced at
him, then at the police officers standing obviously on guard, their
hands on their weapons. She returned her gaze to Harm, taking his hand
at the same time and nodding. He read the message clearly: 'Play along,
but stay together.' She looked back at the plainclothes officer, who
motioned for them to follow him, the two uniformed officers falling in
behind them.
They were led to a small, poorly lit, windowless office, where the
superior gestured for them to sit in the two chairs facing the desk.
Once they and the officer were seated, the two uniformed officers were
dismissed, closing the door behind them as they left.
The man behind the desk regarded them speculatively, before fixing
his gaze on Mac. "While your command of the Russian language is most
impressive, I suspect your comrade here is not familiar with the mother
tongue," he told Mac in Russian, before switching to English.
"Therefore, let us speak so that he may also understand. I am
Inspector Gennady Karpov, of the Yekaterinburg police. I understand
you're looking for Georgi Sevastinov." Mac nodded, and the Inspector
paused before continuing.
"Regrettably, Comrade Sevastinov was murdered in his lab several
days ago. Shot in the head." The Inspector was watching them both
closely. "It is my understanding that he was working on some
unidentified remains with an American scientist, one Mercedes Rabb.
Comrade Sevastinov was found in the lab, which was largely
destroyed, and now the remains and Miss Rabb are missing. An
unacceptable situation."
"So, you see, when two Americans show up at the morgue looking for
the deceased Comrade Sevastinov, I cannot help be suspicious. I cannot
help but suspect it is not Georgi Sevastinov you are seeking, but
Mercedes Rabb," the Inspector finished.
As Harm and Mac glanced at each other, their thoughts ran along
similar lines: what on earth had Mercedes done? Wisely, they remained
silent, contemplating their options and how to communicate them with
the other.
Inspector Karpov watched the silent exchange, studying the pair in
front of him carefully. This was by far the most unusual case he'd
ever encountered, and he had no leads beyond the well-dressed Americans
in front of him. He was not about to let them leave his sight.
"Do you deny that you know this Mercedes Rabb?" Karpov questioned.
Neither Harm nor Mac said a word. "What are you doing here in Russia?"
The Inspector continued. "How do you know Georgi Sevastinov? Where
were you the night of his murder?"
Harm dared a glance at Mac as the rapid-fire inquisition
continued. This was rapidly getting out of hand, and he definitely
didn't like the direction the Inspector's questions were taking.
Dammit, this was why he didn't want Mac here in the first place...
"Nothing?" Karpov finally asked, before pressing a call button on
his desk. "Very well." The two uniformed officers returned, along
with two more. Karpov turned back to Harm and Mac.
"Let us see what some time in the local jail will do to loosen
your tongues. You are both under arrest on suspicion of murder and
theft of state property," he announced, then turned to one of the
uniformed officers. "Make sure they are separated and put in the lower
levels," he ordered.
"NO!" Harm cried, standing, trying to shield Mac. "We stay
together," he insisted loudly.
That was all the signaled the four uniformed officers needed.
Three fought to restrain Harm, while a fourth quickly handcuffed Mac.
Harm saw red as the man brutally yanked her arms back, then began an
overly thorough search of her body. "Dammit, leave her alone!" he
bellowed, fighting the grasp of the officers trying to hold him back.
Mac's cry of "Harm, no," was lost as pain exploded behind his
eyes, then mercifully gave way to darkness.
TBC.....