TS 2 Part VI Chapter 17

Chapter 17

April 25^th, 2012

Moscow

The piercing howls from his son, woke Guntram up and he looked around disoriented for a brief moment. He was not in Siberia any longer and nothing had been a dream as he had feared it would be. He bit his lips to prevent the laughter from escaping once more as the shrieking sounds of a furious baby, returned him to reality.

“I'm coming Con...” he said and realised that there was no need to call his son by his false name any longer. “Right away, Konrad,” he said for the first time his name out loud, feeling an exhilarating happiness in his heart. He winced a bit at the pain in his back, stiff from sleeping on a chair, but dashed to the bedroom where his child was crying at top of his lungs. He picked him up and squeezed him against his chest and caressed the soft head to calm him down. “I'm sorry, Konrad. Papa was asleep. I'll get you something to eat very soon,” he said, feeling very guilty because his child was hungry once more and this time was entirely his fault.

“Dada!” Konrad shouted, glad to see him, his earlier malaise completely forgotten at the sight of his father. He smiled broadly and buried his head on Guntram's shoulder.

“You're too good to me,” Guntram whispered, still feeling guilty, no matter if the child was not upset at all. “First, you need fresh clothes. These are very dirty.”

Calculating that his son good moods would not survive a bath, Guntram decided to only clean him and change his nappies before dressing him with new clothes. With practised ease, he laid a towel over the bed and put his child on top of it, using his left hand to prevent him from rolling over it, as he loved to do. In less than a minute, he undressed and cleaned his son, getting him dressed with the beige corduroy trousers, shirt and red sweatshirt that he had found in one of the bags. The soft leather shoes included fitted him very well and Konrad seemed to be happy with the clean and warm clothes.

He took the child to the kitchen and once more looked into the bags, finding two bottles and two cans of baby milk powder. Realising that there was no baby high chair, Guntram left Konrad on the floor and he started to crawl around, his hunger forgotten at excitement of new surroundings to explore. Guntram washed one of the bottles and boiled some water to prepare the baby's breakfast and found a package of baby cookies in the bag, along with six different baby jars.

“For a minute, I thought you were going to eat Montecristos, Konrad,” Guntram said Guntram out loud as he looked for a way to cool the boiled water before preparing the milk. “Stay away from the plugs, please,” he muttered and found a pot to put cold water and the bottle in. His child dashed to the opened cabinet and peered inside to discover the hidden treasures. Sighing, Guntram took another two red pots and a wooden spoon and gave them to his child. 'At least, this should keep him busy for half an hour.'

When the milk was ready, he called his son and he stood up and walked four steps toward his father before deciding to return to crawling and use him to stand up again. Guntram offered him the bottle, but Konrad pouted to be picked up and fed, enjoying to be in his father's arms.

“You're getting too old for this, Konrad,” Guntram said. “You are nineteen months old. You should be walking and drinking the milk on your own. I'm spoiling you too much. Alexander was right about it.” As Konrad would have understood the words, he took the bottle from his father's hand and firmly clutched it to drink it by himself, comfortably resting against Guntram's chest.

Guntram giggled and kissed his boy. “What should I do now?” he asked and Konrad's blue ices pierced his own ones without leaving the bottle. “I should call Konrad, but if Constantin is alive, the minute he finds out I'm with him, he will kill your brothers. I can't take such risk. The traitor is certainly someone very close to the boys as the last photos I saw were taken inside and not with a zoom. It's someone they know and trust.”

“But I can't go back to him. What if he hurts you because of me?”

“I can't use this visa card, even in the unlikely case it works. Maybe the travellers cheques. But they are not enough as to buy an air plane ticket and these fake passports will not pass a good control. I'll get crazy in front of the stewardess and screw it up. I know that, Konrad.”

“Besides, my name is on them and the police must be looking for the people who used to live at Constantin's house. Blowing up four cars is nothing you get away with.”

“I can't stay here, and Constantin must be looking for us. The only train leaving Khanty Mansiysk was to Moscow and there were no more flights from the airport that day. He knows I'm here and must have the airport, the train and bus stations surrounded. He was always very clever.”

“We have to find another transport. A private one, like a car, but I have no driving license here or enough money as to buy one.'

“Wait! I have money. The watch. I could pawn it and buy something second hand. Russian cars can't be too expensive. I could drive to the border, but Ramazov told me to avoid these people and they really don't look reliable. Junkies never are.”

“We can't go to the French consulate. They would make hundred of questions about you and a lot of fuss and the final result would be exactly as if I were calling Konrad. Constantin would find it out in no time.”

Seeing that his son had finished the milk, he put him back on the floor and took the envelope with his new papers. Inside were two passports issued by Uruguay seven months ago, with a 90 days tourist visa for Russia, starting on April 2^nd. There were some stamps from travels to Brazil and one B1 visa to the USA for five years. His marital status was “widower”. “Well, I won't have troubles about people asking me about you, Konrad,” he smirked.

“The only problem is if they control the passport numbers and check that maybe those are not the ones I have registered in Russia,” Guntram mused. “Or perhaps the police is looking for me. I have to go for the private transport way, and normally, train stations don't ask for your papers.”

“But with a child, I'm quite visible for the police.”

He took the traveller checks and counted three thousand dollars in two and a hundred notes. “Good old American Express. Never expire and you can change them anywhere. I should find out where are their offices in Moscow, but there should be one at the terminal train station.”

“But $3.000 is not enough to get a car or pay for the fuel, so that leaves me the train or the autostop option, and that could be dangerous with a baby around.”

“I have to take my chances with the train. The question is can I pass without a visa through East Europe? I really don't know it. I don't remember that.”

He sighed and looked around for the laptop to switch it on. “We have to get a suitcase too, Konrad if we want to look like tourists and some more clothes too. We don't know how long it will take us to get to Germany.”

* * *

Guntram had spent most of the morning checking on the internet how he could enter back in the Schengen territory without arising suspicions. As an Uruguayan citizen he didn't need a visa but it was mandatory to show an airline ticket to leave Europe, a health insurance policy and €45 per day pro person to support himself and paid hotel reservations.

'Shit, I'm smuggling myself into my own land,' he thought darkly. 'I hate to do this, but I have no other option. I need to show the vouchers only. Back to the poor student times once more.'

Full of remorse, he looked at the obviously fake Golden Visa and thought 'I hope I'm not cheating on someone who has no money at all. Maybe there's a way to return it.' First, he registered himself in a cheap flights website and booked a flight from Zurich to Montevideo for May 4^th, 2012 for he and his son. Full of dread he typed the credit card numbers and the seconds passing as the computer processed the order were the longest in his life. Joy washed over his soul when the website laconically informed him “transaction accepted” in green letters.

“Now, to play the travel agent,”

First he looked for an American Express office and found one very near the Leningradsky train station. He booked two tickets in business class in the Sapsan train at 1:30 p.m to St. Petersburg, paying them with the credit card. He noticed that he only had three hours left before the departure time.

As the printer printed the receipt to show at the information desk, he leaned against the chair and made his decision. He booked a hotel room in the city, next to the train station and checked the trains in the next morning to Helsinki. Finland was the closest country to the European border he could get and it was a three hours trip. Once he could enter in Europe, things could get a bit easier.

With great care he started to look at possible “tourist” routes to get to Zurich without arising suspicions. “I only need the vouchers, not to go to the hotels.' He booked and paid a room for two nights in Helsinki and then four more in Copenhagen, taking a cheap flight between the cities. Once in Copenhagen, he booked another five nights in Berlin and two in Cologne and four more in Paris to go to Nice, Geneva and finally Zurich where he would take his flight back home.

“If they follow me through the credit card, this would be a false lead. Normally they only ask for such things at the border. Now the health insurance thing for us both, Konrad.”

But the credit card refused to work any longer, making Guntram inwardly swear.

'Well, Güstrow Insurance is going to get a new customer.' He took a deep breath and entered in the website, selecting the “international travellers” section and slowly swore in Spanish when he saw the prices. The giggles of Konrad at his father's colourful language, made Guntram blush and he told his child to forget all what he had just said. “Our Duke certainly knows how to charge people,” he told the baby with a smile. “He wants €400 for thirty days coverage. With such prices, he should include plastic surgery if you get injured while skiing in Zermatt or a private masseuse if you get cramps.”

He fulfilled the online form under the names of Fyodor and Conor Tarasov and included the data from his private savings account in Zurich. '€735 for two people? This is a real robbery, Konrad,' he thought as he typed his password and the system accepted the transaction, issuing the policy's receipt. 'Maybe someone tells him I have used my account and gets a clue. This should be a more secretive channel than phoning him. Everything was as I left it,' he thought sadly.

Guntram picked all the papers and folded them, to keep them in his coat's pocket. He checked his watch and he still had 90 minutes before the train would leave the city. He chose the most resistant bags to put the clothes, diapers and food for his son before he dressed him again with the good “Michelin man” suit that the woman had included in the package. He debated with himself about taking the laptop with him or not, but he decided against it. 'It's only dead weight. I suppose there are internet-cafés almost everywhere.' He also left, without touching it, the 9mm Parabellum found in one of the desk drawers. 'If I'm caught, I can't tell the police I was a hostage if I have such a thing. It wouldn't stop Constantin anyway.

* * *

The foul smells in the corridor once more assaulted his nostrils and he walked faster toward the stairs, having memorized the route to the nearest subway station.

“Hey you, can you spare a dime?” a young girl shouted in English and Guntram remembered her face from yesterday night.

“Nyet,” he answered and started to walk the stairs down.

“You're not Russian! Do you want me to call all the guys?” She yelled again. “Give me money and I'll leave you alone.”

Guntram looked at her and noticed that her pupils were abnormally big. 'Great, she's high. If she screams, I'll get all the dealers from all over the place.'

“Is the baby yours?” she asked. “Did you steal him?”

“Shut up.”

“You are one of those perverts!” she yelled again and Guntram realised that she was not going to be quiet even if he was giving her money. She was too trashed to realise what she was doing.

“Be quiet and I'll give you something,” he said, leaving the bag on the dirty floor. 'I am going to hate myself for this.'

“That baby is not yours, did you steal him from Anya?” She menacingly closed the distance between them and fast as a snake, she tried to pry Konrad from Guntram's arms but he punched her hard on the face, making her fall to the floor.

“Be quiet, whore or I'll kill you,” he whispered getting a sharp knife out of his pocket. “Beat it.”

She looked at him with real terror and stumbled as he tried to get up, to run away through the corridor. 'I'm getting better and better. I just hit a poor woman,' the young man thought but held his son close to his chest, looking with terrified eyes the whole scene. “That was a very bad thing to do, Konrad and I'm very ashamed of it,” he said and took the bag to fly downstairs the three stores, ignoring the dirt or the other addicts he saw.

Once he was on the street he began to briskly walk the five hundred metres to the subway, ignoring the people saying things to him. He only felt secure once he entered in the dark mouth of the subway and bought a single ticket under the astonished look of the employee that a tourist was lost in such a neighbourhood.

* * *

Guntram almost collapsed in his seat on the train, emotionally drawn has he had almost lost the convoy. With great luck he had been able to change 200 dollars into roubles.

There was an old gentleman in his compartment and he kindly smiled to his child, once more interested in all the exciting things going around.

“Are you a tourist?” the old man asked after he saw Guntram's face of panic when he spoke in Russian.

“Yes, I am,”

“St. Petersburg is a very beautiful city. There is nothing like it. Once you are there you fall in love with it. Is he your son? He's very funny.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Your hair is so black and his so blond that it's difficult to tell at first sight. Only if you look carefully you can see your features in him. Is it not complicate to travel with a young baby?”

“No, Conor behaves very well,” Guntram answered with a nervous smile and turned his back to the man.

He almost missed lunch so engulfed he was in his thoughts and the waiter had to ask several times if he wanted something. Embarrassed by his lack of attention he only ate half of his lunch after Konrad emptied a large glass of baby food in less than five minutes.

“He has quite a healthy appetite,” the man laughed.

'Guntram, you have to be less crazy. Speak with him or you'll draw attention to you. You're a tourist. Ask about the city. He looks harmless,' he thought and cracked a smile to the old man. 'Stop being such a psycho!'

* * *

April 27^th, 2012

Moscow -Dawn

The two men were on the limit of his forces when Dima ordered them to punch the traitor they had caught when he was trying to reach his family.

“He's almost dead, sir,” one of them protested.

“Ramazov, you know who I work with. He has no problems to torture little girls when he wants something,” Dima said tiredly. “Speak up and we will shoot you in the head and leave your women alone. They know nothing and are useless. One last time, where is the boy?”

“I took them to a safe house. He doesn't want to go back to Lintorff. He's really crazy,” the man spoke with great difficulty spitting blood.

“Which safe house?”

“It's the one in Medvedko district, flat 347. He wanted to be back with Repin. He begged me several times to return him to you.”

“And why didn't you?” Constantin asked feeling his fury rose to new levels. “I would have paid handsomely for them.”

“I had orders.”

“Your boss no longer exists. Take us there and your daughters may still live.”

“He must be still there. He was terrified of everything. He doesn't even say his real name. Let my family go. I can convince him to follow you in the nice way.”

“That would save us some troubles, Constantin mumbled. “Let the woman go with one child. The other stays,” he ordered sharply.

* * *

St. Petersburg

April 26^th, 2012

Dawn had still not broken when Guntram crossed the Finland Railway Station in St. Petersburg, nearly located to the small hotel where he had spent the night. His heart almost stopped when he saw that the counter number nine was selling tickets for the train 33-34 to Helsinki and its name was Repin. 'It's named after the painter, not Constantin' he repeated several times in his mind, like a mantra, unable to come closer to the counter.

Had it not been by an accidental push from one of the passengers quickly walking through the ample entrance hall, he would have missed the train. Still trembling, he showed his reservations and obtained the tickets.

“Hurry up, the train departs at 7:17 a.m.” the rubicund woman informed him as she made more faces to a partly asleep baby.

With his son nestled in his right arm, he managed to walk to the platform, pulling from the small trolley with his left hand. He did his best to hide the pain any weight could provoke to his left hand and closed his eyes when he saw the train name written in yellow letters over the blue and white wagons. He observed with curiosity that the controller was a woman dressed with a grey uniform and that she offered to help him to come on board by taking the child in her arms.

He placed his small suitcase and sat with his child next to the window, biting his lips to avoid a sigh of relief when the train started to move. 'It's only five hours till we reach Helsinki. Once we are there, we will be safe.'

* * *

Guntram was fascinated by the landscape and the hundred of small lakes and trees still covered by snow.

“Passport, please.” A tall brunette woman said in English after she had unsuccessfully tried to get the young man's attention in Russian and Finnish.

Guntram looked at her dumbfounded but searched for his papers in the coat he had left on the empty seat next to his one. Without making eye contact, he gave them to the policewoman and nervously waited as she passed the pages of the blue passport.

“Where is your visa to enter into Schengen territory?”

“I don't need one. I'm from Uruguay,” he answered a bit shocked. “This is a machine readable passport too.”

“Yes, I can see that,” she answered dryly as she scanned it with a small pistol. “You need a visa to enter Europe.”

“No, I don't. I need a visa to be in Russia, but not for here. I'm in holidays.”

“Wait here please,” she curtly said and walked away to get her superior.

“Good morning, sir. Is this your first time in Europe?” A tall man, dressed in civilian clothes asked him. “I'm with the border patrol and we noticed you don't have a stamp for entering into Europe.”

“My plane landed in Moscow,” Guntram said.

“Very well, we must do the checking procedures now,” the man replied, giving Guntram an small white form to fill out. “This is your first visit?”

“Yes, I'm in holidays.”

“Very well. Can you show us the hotel reservations, your return ticket and health insurance card? You can fill in the forms while I check them.”

Guntram, feeling very nervous looked in his coat's inside pocket and gave the wade of papers and e-mails confirmations to the inspector, who began to examine them very carefully.

“Everything seems to be in order with you and the child,” he announced some ten minutes later. “Are you an economist?” He asked after reading the card.

“Yes, I am.” 'Is he going to test if I can balance a budget?'

“Don't you have to work?”

“My wife passed away and I'm travelling to recover from her loss,” Guntram recited his story very softly.

“Is that your luggage?” He asked pointing at the small cabin size black case placed on the upper shelf.

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it not too small for such a long stay?”

“I travel light. We can buy what we need, like these coats. I had no idea Russia was so cold,” Guntram said quickly as the man was critically looking at his own coat and the tags written in Cyrillic. “Hotels have laundry service.”

“Yes, that's right. Can we see the interior of your suitcase?”

“Is this necessary?”

“Please.”

Guntram sat Konrad on the seat and rose to put the suitcase down. He opened it and the man, only looked inside without touching its contents. “May I close it now?”

“Yes, we were looking for cigarettes. People smuggle them from Russia into Finland. Good day, sir.” he said, loudly stamping Guntram and Konrad's passports.

'We are almost home, Con,' he thought and closed his eyes glad that they would reach the city in less than an hour.