The Spy Who Came for Christmas Read Online Free PDF

stole!"
    Andrei bristled. No one insulted him. From his earliest years on the streets of Grozny, he'd learned that disrespect could never be tolerated. If anybody other than the Pakhan had called him that . . .
    Breathing quickly, he scanned the buildings on the left side of Canyon Road. They formed a wall. But to his right, several galleries had walkways between them. That was the only escape route.
    His two teammates ran up behind him.
    "Over there!" Andrei yelled, too hurried to recall the code names they'd been given. "Mikhail, take the first walkway! Yakov, take the second! I'll take the third!"
    They rushed forward, ignoring the alarmed looks people gave them.
    As the snow kept falling, Andrei raced along the third walkway. Christmas lights blinked in a gallery window. He passed a side door that was open, hearing a woman complain, ". . . almost knocked me over! What's the matter with people? This is the one night we ought to slow down. It's Christmas Eve, for God's sake."
    Andrei ran into a back courtyard, where a man and woman stood in front of a flickering display of Santa's reindeer and sled. They looked angry about his intrusion, as if this wasn't the first time they'd been startled tonight.
    "I'm with the police! Did a man run through here?"
    "That way!" The woman pointed toward a lane. "Scared the hell out of us."
    Andrei hurried into the lane. Behind him, muffled footsteps raced between the galleries, Mikhail and Yakov joining him.
    "Those other routes are dead ends," Mikhail reported.
    They assessed the lane. There wasn't much activity since most people preferred the attractions on Canyon Road.
    Responding to their military background, they spread out. Andrei took the middle position and replaced his .22 Beretta with the powerful 10-millimeter Glock. He moved slowly, carefully, straining his eyes to study everything through the haze of the falling snow.
    Yakov spoke in a low voice. "Too many footprints. We can't tell which are his."
    'At least not yet," Andrei murmured, searching for blood.
    "He might try to ambush us," Mikhail said.
    "In that case, we've got him," Andrei replied. "The way we're spread out, he can't take all of us before we return fire. But I'm not worried about an ambush. He won't risk putting the child in danger, not while he still has strength to try to get it out of here."
    Andrei was reminded of something a soldier, one of his mother's numerous boyfriends, had taught him when they'd gone on a hunting trip. The soldier had hoped the expedition would impress Andrei's mother. The soldier's unit was one of the first to be sent to Afghanistan in 1979, and Andrei had never seen him again. But because he and his mother had lived near a Soviet military base, there'd been many other soldiers to replace the man who'd left, and they were the only fathers Andrei had known.
    Andrei had never forgotten that particular hunting trip. The soldier had taught him something that had turned out to be a life lesson. A wounded animal keeps running until weakness forces it to go to ground. Only when it's cornered will it fight.
    * * *
    IN WHAT SEEMED increasingly to be a labyrinth, Kagan plodded through the snowfall. Its muted whisper made him feel as if something were wrong with his hearing, as if he were trapped in a snow globe. Because he still couldn't risk
    raising his hood and impairing his peripheral vision, he allowed the snow to accumulate on his head. Periodically, he brushed it off. Nonetheless, his scalp felt frozen.
    On the ground in front of him, the footprints were becoming less frequent, branching off to warm-looking homes behind fences and walls. Soon, his would be the only footprints remaining. He prayed that the snow would fill them before his hunters figured out which direction he'd taken.
    As the baby squirmed under his parka, he shivered and thought, I risked my life for you. I could have walked away and disappeared. God knows, I was ready. I've been through more than anyone could imagine. I