Like before, I was aiming for the windshield, but there was no evidence that the bullets caused damage to even obscure their vision. If I was lucky, I might take out a camera or two by sheer chance, but I didn’t know where they were mounted.
—I knew spetsnaz were on a different level.
I smiled. Ivan had been “on another level” way back when, too. If I hadn’t used the trick I had, I’d be dead now.
“C-couldn’t you have picked a better car?!” I heard Miss Tachibana shout from up front.
“It’s a budget problem, Miss!” Valery quipped back. He gave the truck’s tail a big swish—which meant I got the same treatment in the back—and hauled it around a corner. I was being shaken around, but not so much that I couldn’t pick up Miss Tachibana’s profound sigh.
“Maybe I cut a bit too deep.”
“Give Organ ten times what they’re getting!” I shouted. Then I could get ten times the reward—yeah, right! At least I might get a few extra rubles. I didn’t think it would be too much to ask for taking on spetsnaz forces trying to nail me from an armored vehicle. Even if I knew my life wasn’t worth all that much.
“Seriously?!”
I could hardly believe my eyes. The pursuing vehicle’s hatch opened, and a small, bullet-resistant, armored figure emerged. They jumped nimbly, leaping through the air.
That had to be the squad leader. Their movements were inhuman, more like those of a wild animal than a cyborg. Like those of a leopard or some other rainforest animal that I’d only seen on TV.
Of course, it wasn’t like I had a luxurious second or two to indulge in those reflections. All I saw was the squad leader kicking off the roof of the armored vehicle and rocketing straight toward me. By the time their hand was reaching for my collar, I could really only react on reflex.
“Hiiiiyahhhh!”
“Hrk?!”
I was inspired to shout really loud as I lifted my right foot up and kicked the Degtyaryov as hard as I could. The bolts popped loose, and the crappy weld gave way. The machine gun tumbled, gun mount and all, out of the truck.
“Wha—?!” shouted the squad leader—anyone would have—as the pile of metal connected. Their voice was a higher pitch than I expected, and now their body was bowled over like a small animal. The switchblade they’d been holding flew out of their hand and disappeared into the street.
—Thanks, Ivan. I’m still alive.
But goddamn. This was no joke.
Only one of the toppled pair got run over and ground into the asphalt by the Horseshoe Crab behind us, sparking as it bounced along the road—and it was the machine gun. The squad leader tumbled along the pavement for a second, but then bounced like a ball back into the air. Then, like a videotape playing in reverse, they lunged backward and landed on top of their vehicle.
“Resistance is futile!” came a shout from the driver’s seat—I couldn’t tell if that monster back there was even human. And I had plenty of reasons to think so.
“…Tsk!” I grunted.
“My Degtyaryov!” Valery cried.
“That stupid gun was throwing the truck’s balance off!” I shouted back, even as I tore around the truck bed, trying to find my next plan. “I’ll give you a bundle of cash to customize this thing—try to think it through next time!”
“Hell yeah!” Valery honked the horn a couple or three times to celebrate his windfall. I wasn’t the only one who thought it was obnoxious.
The squad leader wasted no time in aiming the Abakan atop the Horseshoe Crab right at me. Almost instantaneously, heavy slugs were howling toward me. They shredded the cover over the bed of the truck and riddled the chassis with holes. Valery groaned again, and Miss Tachibana screamed.
Sparks flew everywhere, and I could feel bullets passing inches away from me. All the hair on my body stood on end, and my breath came in ragged pants. I could’ve cried. But I stayed glued to the truck bed. Just like I was clinging to my Tokarev.
I kicked the box of heavy-machine-gun ammunition out of the back of the truck, figuring it wouldn’t be any more use to me otherwise. Brass shells scattered all over the road with a sound like salt coming out of a gigantic shaker. I sort of appreciated the dim golden sheen they had, but the point was that with those things underfoot, even a car would start to slide…
“Or not, I guess!”
The Horseshoe Crab simply drove over the casings like they weren’t there. I know, I know. But I didn’t care. I didn’t have time.
I whipped out my PPSh and unloaded. Seventy bullets was an accounting error by now.
“Wha—?!”
If I’d mechanized my eyes, I’m sure I would have seen the squad leader’s eyes widen behind their gas mask. It looked like we finally understood each other, but it was a little too late. And the folks in the Horseshoe Crab were never going to grok me.
The next second, the ammunition case that had eaten a magazine from my PPSh went up like fireworks. There were explosions, flashes, bombs flying everywhere as the contents lit off one after another. This went way beyond scattering some fireworks—not that that wasn’t obnoxious enough.
Armor-piercing rounds went every which way—including straight at the oncoming Horseshoe Crab.
Of course, that thing could run over a land mine without getting a scratch. I wasn’t going to take it down with this little trick. But it was more than enough to serve as a distraction.
For a moment, the massive vehicle swerved from side to side. Shaking violently atop the Horseshoe Crab, the squad leader didn’t bother to hide their annoyance. “You…sons of…bitches! Don’t you know what you’re doing with that steering wheel?!”
It bought us a few seconds, and Valery, bless my little brother, made good use of them. He stopped zigzagging and put the pedal to the metal, picking up speed as he went around the next turn. That was all. But it was exactly what I wanted him to do. It was what I had fought so hard to buy time for.
I managed to read the letters on the signs as they passed overhead.
Lubyanka Square.
Naturally, we hadn’t flung this truck all over Moscow just for some sightseeing.
But just as naturally, it wasn’t like we were going to the toy store, reputed to be the largest in the Western world, that stood in the square.
I was aiming for the building next to the toy store.
What do you do when the king of the local bullies picks a fight with you? Imagine he’s especially big and scary. You don’t have any hope of beating him in a straight fight. So what’s the plan? Go crying to Mom and Dad.
Sadly for me, I didn’t have any parents.
That left me one place to turn—our nation’s security forces, the KGB. They’d treat me right, wouldn’t they?
“Koshmar!”
Even the GRU spetsnaz wouldn’t go ballistic right in front of the KGB headquarters. That would go beyond a little harassment—that would be politics. And politics meant trouble. Something nobody would eagerly sign up for.
The squad leader cursed and shouted at their men to hit the brakes, and the Horseshoe Crab slid to a halt.
“Hah…haaah!”
I somehow managed to peel off my balaclava as our pursuers swiftly grew smaller in the distance. The night air was cutting cold, and it helped strip my cheeks of the flush and sweat that had built up there.
Guns didn’t work. Machine guns didn’t work. Cars didn’t work. We were dealing with the spetsnaz, and I was just a Janitor. Chance of victory: zero.
Just one thing to say, then, one thing to do.
“Beg for help! Pomogi, zhe!”