The Bear's Tears Read Online Free PDF

spotted
beneath the trees. He hadn't left the gardens - he had
known
…
    Known it would happen.
    Hyde's breath escaped in a cloud. Kapustin saw him then. Almost
immediately, he bent his head to one side and whispered furiously into
a small transceiver. Kapustin had known it would happen, that Aubrey
would be…
    Arrested.
    Running footsteps, and the noises of Aubrey's group moving off, as
if abandoning him.
    "This is blatantly ridiculous," Aubrey was saying, his voice seeming
to grow fainter. "You know why I'm here, what this is about."
    Hyde was alone. Running footsteps on gravel, closing in. Kapustin
watched him, expectant and confident. A body brushed through low fir
branches, a slithering sound. Kapustin's transceiver suddenly crackled
with voices. In his ear, Aubrey continued to protest, his voice and
circumstances now irrelevant. Kapustin was about to speak. Hyde felt
his legs become heavy. The adrenalin coursed in his veins, but he
seemed powerless to employ it.
    A body blundered against him, slipping on a patch of ice in a hollow
in the leaf-mould and hard earth. The collision freed him. He tugged
the pistol from his overcoat and struck out, catching the man across
the temple. The KGB man staggered back, clutching at the sudden rush of
blood. It seeped between his fingers, ran into his eyes. Hyde heaved
him out of his path and ran.
    He burst from beneath the trees, skidded on the frosty, sparkling
gravel then recovered his balance and fled towards the Upper Belvedere,
aware that he was moving away from Aubrey and the men who had arrested
him. Then he was aware only of the sheen of snow on the gardens, the
glint of the frozen pool, the sparkling steps, and his breath beginning
to labour as he ran up the long slope towards the darkened, deserted
palace.
    The air was chilly against his cheeks, his mouth gasped at its
coldness, tasting and wetting the wool of his scarf. He heard footsteps
behind him. On the end of its lead, the earpiece of the recorder
bounced like a fusillade of tiny pebbles against his shoulder.
    He saw a form converging, racing across the moonlit white lawn, and
he checked then heaved his frame against that of the running man. His
breath exploded, and Hyde's shoulder lifted him off his feet, turning
him into a face-down dark lump against the snow. Hyde staggered,
lurched, felt the recorder drop from his pocket and heard it land on
the gravel.
    Then he heard a voice, seeming to come from the man on the ground,
and for a moment he was unable to move.
    "Stop him - kill him if you have to," in unaccented English. It was
no Russian voice, yet it was coming from the pocket transceiver clipped
to the lapel of the unconscious man's coat. The words were muffled by
the man's body, but they were audible on the chilly air. English,
spoken by a native.
Collusion
, he had time to register. MI5
and the KGB. Collusion.
    His eyes cast about on the gravel, but he failed to locate the
recorder. Distant figures were running towards him.
The recorder
—!
    No
time
—!
    His body began running again, even as he knew he ought to continue
the search. Panic and survival controlled him. He mounted the last
steps onto the terrace of the Belvedere. Again, the ghostly features of
the sphinx grinned and smirked with superiority. His hand slapped
against her stone hair as he regained his balance and looked behind
him. Two men below, another two converging.
    Kill him if you have
to…
    He still realised the collusion, but it was the threat that was now
predominant. They wanted him dead. He had seen and heard. He must be
eliminated. Not simply isolated, left alone, but eliminated. Driven and
hounded by his own fear, he ran towards the gates onto the Prinz-Eugen
strasse, towards Vienna.
    Kill him if you have to…
    His shoes pounded on the icy pavement. Lines of lights and parked
cars stretched ahead of him down the hill towards the city. He ran on,
the idea of collusion fading in his mind like the distanced noises and
cries behind