The Red Square

My fifth book entitled 'The Red Square' is an anthology of short stories that their main theme is action and adventure.

The book's title is in fact the novelette title that opens up this anthology.

Below are a few excerpts of the novelette 'The Red Square':

They came out of the terminal, and boarded one of the empty cabs parked right in front of the terminal’s entrance. There were several more cabs awaiting commuters, most of the crowd that arrived with the last train took the underground.

‘Well how do you find life here? Sam asked as they were riding to Paul’s hotel. They did not look back to see whether they were followed, simply because they knew very well that they were covered rather closely. The driver could have been a KGB agent that speaks English, or he could record their conversation " thus the best option was to speak freely and say virtually nothing.

‘Well not bad, it’s a bit cold here though…’

‘You’re well provided as far as I can see, a fine coat, gloves and a fur cap; you look like a real Ivan.’ Sam could not refrain from adding. ‘How is your hotel by the way?’

‘Oh it’s a real plush hotel, excellent service, excellent food.’ Paul noted with feigned enthusiasm, the lavish compliments were intended for the driver’s ears.

‘I may board it but to rely on your taste, and your taste in women in particular…’ Sam added with a chuckle.

 

 

As he strolled on the pavement along Ulitsa Varvaka, trying to find his way to the Red Square as any other tourist would do; and he is some six weeks in this majestic capital already and hasn’t been there yet. He might check surveillance meanwhile he thought a bit encouraged. It might revive my spirits watching their difficulties in tailing stealthily an object matter on a huge empty square.

‘Sprechen zie Deutch?

‘No I don’t speak German.’ Paul answered surprised, watching the lovely features of the young woman that accosted him. He was accosted several times before already by good looking young women, who turned to him in hesitant English. This one except her original style of approach had an extremely captivating smile, exposing her even white teeth and a thin line above of dark red gum " and her exceptional full and red lips. He could not ignore her and walk on, as he treated her few colleagues on the few previous occasions.

‘You’re a Frenchman then?’

‘No I’m American.’

‘I see, lost your group? I’m a tourist guide.’ She hastened to declare with that alluring smile of hers.

‘Natalie of the Red Square I presume, the one that certain French singer misses so much…’ Paul suggested laughing.

‘Oh I know and love this song.’ She answered with a sweet chuckle. ‘My name is Tania, I’ll be glad to show you around and help you find your way.’

 

 

Once outside in the cold early afternoon, Paul felt much better. He did not bother to check surveillance, he knew they were behind and in front of him; two crews at least plus a car or two to facilitate the exchanges to prevent exposure.

He had a short minute of elation of having won the bizarre game; he did not succumb to temptation, to beastly urges out of fear or self pity. It did encourage him a bit his small victory, but it was not over yet. His days in this hostile capital were numbered. He did not think they will bother to bump him off, he was not that important and he was ‘burned’ from the very beginning, he did not manage to harm any of their interests yet. It seems as if they were informed of my arrival long before I’ve boarded the plane that flew me over here, though it’s just an assumption " a wild one. He kept brooding turning thoughts in his mind, as he was walking among the few pedestrians on the broad pavement.

After some twenty minutes of walking in a regular pace, he reached the Red Square with the Kremlin towering far off at its end. In comparison to its huge dimensions, the Red Square could be termed as empty. Paul could see a few dots of individuals or a bit bigger specks of tiny groups here and there, the gaps between them were rather wide. It made him smile with satisfaction; he was right his pursuers will have to stay behind far behind.

© Haim Kadman 2013 " all rights reserved.