Aces Abroad

A loud pop stopped them like a freeze-frame. Molniya stood with a bare hand upturned before his face, fingers extended as if to hold a ball. An ephemeral blue flicker limned the nerves of his hand and was gone.

"IЂ we fight among ourselves," he said calmly, "we play into our enemies' hands."

Only Puppetman knew his calm was a lie.

Deliberately Molniya drew his glove back on. "We were betrayed. What more can we expect from the capitalist system we oppose?" He smiled. "Let us strengthen our resolve. If we stand together, we can make them pay for their treachery"

The potential antagonists fell back away from each other. Hartma

Puppetman exulted.

The last of day lay across the Brandenburg plain west of the city like a layer of polluted water. From the next block ti

Ulrich let the cheap curtains drop and turned away from the window. "Christ, it stinks inhere," he said, doing stretches. "What do those fucking Turks do? Piss in the corners?"

Lying on the foul mattress next to the wall, Aardvark huddled closer around his injured gut and whimpered. Gimli moved over beside him, felt his head. His ugly little face was all knotted up with concern. "He's in a bad way," the dwarf said.

"Maybe we oughta get him to a hospital," Scrape said. Ulrich jutted his square chin and shook his head. "No way. We decided."

Shroud knelt down next to his boss, took Aardvark's hand, and felt the low fuzzy forehead. "He's got some fever."

"How can you tell?" Wilfried asked, his broad face concerned. "Maybe he's naturally got a higher temperature than a person, like a dog or something."

Quick as a teleport Gimli was across the room. He swept Wilfried off his feet with a transverse kick and straddled his chest, pummeling him. Shroud and Scrape hauled him off.

Wifried was holding his hands up before his face. "Hey, hey, what did I do?" He seemed almost in tears.

"You stupid bastard!" Gimli howled, windmilling his arms. "You're no better than the rest of the fucking nats! None of you!"

"Comrades, please-" Molniya began.

But Gimli wasn't listening. His face was the color of raw meat. He sent his companions flying with a heave of his shoulders and marched to Aardvark's side.

Puppetman hated to let Gimli off like this, walking away clear. He'd have to kill the evil little fuck someday.

But survival surmounted even vengeance. Puppetman's imperative was to shave the odds against him. This was the quickest way.

Tears streamed over Gimli's lumpy cheeks. "That's enough," he sobbed. "We're taking him for medical attention, and we're taking him now." He bent down and looped a limp furry arm over his neck. Shroud glanced around, eyes alert above the bandage wrap, then joined him.

Comrade Wolf blocked the door. "Nobody leaves here."

"What the fuck are you talking about, little man?" Ulrich said pugnaciously. "He's not hurt that badly."

"Who says he's not eh?" Shroud said. For the first time Hartma

Gimli's face twisted like a rag. "That's shit. He's hurting. He's dying. Dammit, let us go."

Ulrich and A

A double clack brought their heads around. Scrape stood by the far wall. The assault rifle he'd just cocked was pointed at the buckle of the blond terrorist's army belt. "Then maybe we just fell, comrades," he said. "Because if Gimli says we're going, we're gone."

Wolfs mouth crumpled in on itself, as if he were old and had forgotten his false teeth. He glanced at Ulrich and A

Clinging to one of Aardvark's wrists, Shroud brought up an AKM with his free hand. "Keep it cool, nat."

Mackie felt his hands begi

"What about the things we're working for?" the Soviet asked.

Gimli wrung Aardvark's hand. "This is what we're working for. He's a joker. And he needs help."

Comrade Wolf's face was turning the color of eggplant. Veins stood out like broken fingers on his temples. "Where do you think you're going?" he forced past grinding teeth.

Gimli laughed. "Right through the Wall. Where our friends are waiting for us."

"Then leave. Walk out on us. Walk out on the great things you were going to do for your fellow monsters. We still have the senator; we are going to win. And if we ever catch you-"

Scrape laughed. "You go

Ulrich's eyes were rolling belligerently despite the rifle aimed at his midsection. "No," Molniya said. "Let them go. If we fight everything is lost."

"Get out," Wolf said.

"Yeah," Gimli said. He and Shroud gently carried Aardvark out, into the unlit hallway of the abandoned building. Scrape covered them until they were out of sight, then swiftly crossed the room. He paused, gave them as much of a smile as chitin would permit, and closed the door.

Ulrich hurled his Kalashnikov against the door. Fortunately it failed to go off. "Bastards!"

A

Mackie sidled over to Molniya. Everything seemed wrong. But Molniya would make it right. He knew he would.

The Russian ace was cake.

Ulrich swung around with his big hands tied into fists. "So what's going to happen? Huh?"

Wolf sat on a stool with his belly on his thighs and hands on his knees. He'd visibly aged as the thrill of high adventure ebbed. Perhaps the exploit he'd hoped to cap his double life with was going sour on his tongue.

"What do you mean, Ulrich?" the lawyer asked wearily. Ulrich turned him a look of outrage. "Well, I mean it's our deadline. It's ten o'clock. You heard the radio. They still haven't met our demands."

He picked up an AKM, jacked a round into the chamber. "Can't we kill the son of a bitch now?"

A

Wolf hiked up the sleeve of his coat and checked his wristwatch. "What happens now is that. you, A

And Comrade Molniya said, "No."

The fear was gathering. Bit by bit it coalesced into a cancer, black and amorphous in the center of his brain. With each minute's passage it seemed Molniya's heart gained a beat. His ribs felt as if they were vibrating from the speed of his pulse. His throat was dry and raw, his cheeks burned as though he stared into the open maw of a crematorium. His mouth tasted like offal. He had to get out. Everything depended on it.

Everything.

No, a part of him cried. You've got to stay. That was the plan.

Behind his eyes he saw his daughter Ludmilya sitting in a rubbled building with her melted eyes ru

"No," he said. His parched palate would barely produce the word. "I'll go."

Wolf frowned. Then the ends of his wide mouth drew up in a smile. Doubtless it occurred to him that would leave him in complete control of the situation. Fine. Let him think as he will. I've got to get out of here.