Mishka
Chapter Twelve: GlasnostNatalya shifted her helmet under her arm and fumbled with the key to her room. She was tired but exhilarated after the Fencing Trial. Her own points were average, but in overall score her team was ranking very high. Riding a wave of endorphins, she had hurried to her room rather than join her teammates in the locker room, hoping to get cleaned up in time to catch the end of the Men’s Fencing Trials. She wanted to see MacGyver in action.
After a morning of intense exercise, her sword-arm and hand were a bit strained; the keys dropped from her leaden fingers. Mindful of the long blade of the epée, she bent to retrieve them.
Behind the door, she heard a soft noise. Softly she spoke as she fitted her key in the lock, “It is just me, Uncle.” The lock was turned, but she would have to wait for him to release the deadbolt before she could get inside.
Mikhail let her in. She looked at her uncle with worry. He had not been sleeping or eating properly in the past few days; the terrible strain of his situation haunted him as he hid himself in his niece’s hotel room. She had brought him fresh clothes to wear, but the wrinkles and wear seemed to have migrated to his eyes, and his cheeks were gaunt beneath his graying beard.
“Natasha.” He breathed her name in relief. “How glad I am that it is you.”
“What is it, Uncle?”
“I was afraid it was – are they gone?” Mikhail spoke barely above a whisper as he closed and locked the door securely. He took her gear and set it aside, then took her hands in his own big ones, pulling her to the divan where they could sit and talk more easily.
“Is who gone? Uncle, what are you talking about?”
“Men. Waiting down the hall… always. I see them through the little eye-hole… pacing up and down, trying to look casual. But they are waiting for me. I don’t think they know I am here – maybe they do! But they don’t try to come in. Has anyone spoken to you?”
“No one, Uncle. Are you sure – ?”
“Oh, yes. I must contact a friendly embassy soon! If I stay here much longer, I think I shall go mad!” He held her hands still, could feel the faint tremor of her overworked muscles and mistook it for fear. “My poor Natasha! How could I involve you in this hopeless scheme?! I must leave tonight – now! Before they bring their unkind attention upon you as well.”
“Uncle – no! You must let me help. They will not hurt me, as you say – my father would not permit it! I will call him – he must know someone who can help – ”
“No! No, child. We can’t involve your father. He must remain above reproach in this matter – for your protection. No, if I can reach the British consulate – or even the Americans – then perhaps I can obtain a passport.”
Natalya’s face grew thoughtful. “Uncle… my friend, that I met here in Helsinki… he is an American. He is a good man, I think. Maybe he can help us.”
Mikhail shook his head violently. “An American athlete? But the boycott – ! There are no Americans represented here… only expatriates and international playboys.” He frowned at his niece. “I thought you said he was a good man! With the team from the Netherlands.”
“He is! But MacGyver is also an American.”
Mikhail growled, his feelings of protectiveness overpowering his sense of self-preservation. “If he hurts you, I shall have his teeth for cufflinks!”
Natalya smiled. This was her dear uncle that she knew and loved! “You old bear. I tell you, he is a good man. I am sure of him. But I don’t know that he can help. Just that he may know someone who can.” She kissed his work-roughened knuckles. “Let me ask him.”
“Only if you are sure of him. I trust
you, Natasha.”
She patted his cheek. “I am to see him tonight. I will find a way to ask.”
xoxox
“I was thinking,” MacGyver said as he walked beside Natalya, “I know I said we’d go to the sauna tonight – but I was wondering.” He paused, looking over at her face to gauge her mood. “If you’re not too tired, whaddya say we go somewhere afterward?”
“Where did you wish to go?” Natalya felt a twinge of apprehension. She really wanted to get MacGyver somewhere private where they could talk. She knew she couldn’t discuss it in the sauna; it was too busy, and such subjects were not to be discussed in such places, anyway. She covered her concern by making a show of rubbing her sore arm. “I’m looking forward to soaking these aches away. And tomorrow! I hope that I shall be able to move at all – and compete!”
“I hear ya.” MacGyver nodded. “My right arm feels like a boiled noodle, too.” He rotated his shoulder, pleased that it didn’t hurt quite as much as it had a few hours ago. “It won’t take very long. How about the National Museum? I hear that there’s some fine galleries open. If that’s your kind of thing?” he asked hopefully.
“They have a magnificent collection of impressionist art.” Natalya agreed. But she caught MacGyver’s eye and gave him a wistful smile. “Honestly, I’d rather see their Science Gallery. That is more my kind of thing.”
“Mine, too!” MacGyver let out his breath and laughed. “After two or three dozen landscapes, all I can think is ‘Gosh, I’m glad I don’t have to mow all that!’”
She laughed and slapped him playfully – on his good arm. He caught her around the shoulders and pulled her close to prevent further assaults. It felt good, holding her there.
Natalya felt good too… but a twinge of guilt burned in her heart as her mind raced, trying to think of what words to use, how to broach the subject of her uncle’s problem… and why she thought that he would be able to help or even care to if he could. But the strength in his embrace seemed to transfer into her, and she let herself lean against him.
They were walking along the street, not hurrying. They reached an intersection, where they paused to wait for the traffic to pass. She looked up into his face as he happened to be looking down at her; their lips were only inches apart.
MacGyver leaned down slightly, and waited. Natalya could have turned her face away, but instead she lifted her chin and let their lips touch in a brief, electric kiss.
She pulled back a fraction, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at him; her eyes were sparkling. He smiled and kissed her again; a long, tender moment that left both with their blood roaring in their ears and grins on their faces.
The traffic signals changed, and people moved around them, some chuckling and shaking their heads in amusement at MacGyver and Natalya, who stood on the busy corner oblivious to everything and everyone else but each other.
xox
Later, muscles and minds relaxed by the heat of the sauna, MacGyver and Natalya wandered though the museum. They wandered through the exhibits, simply enjoying one another’s company. They felt comfortably lost in the traffic of tourists that moved through the brightly lit and secure buildings.
MacGyver kept his eye out for Gorodisch, but he did not think the man would allow himself to be seen. He did notice, after they crossed the galleries toward the exit, the two gentlemen who were following them.
When are the KGB gonna learn that you can’t tail someone discreetly wearing a trench coat in the summer? Are they trying to be noticed? These guys watch too many American spy movies!MacGyver might not have thought anything of it. With so many Soviet athletes outside of the USSR, it was given that they would be watched closely. However, these fellows aroused his suspicion; he recognized one of the men. He’d seen him in the hotel, on the same floor, he recalled suddenly, as Natalya’s room. A prickle of excitement coursed through him.
“Tell me, Natalie,” MacGyver asked. He had his arm draped comfortably across her shoulders; she was holding his hand that hung down, lacing her fingers with his. “You don’t have an ex-boyfriend who’s the jealous type, do you?”
“What? No, of course not.” Natalya laughed lightly. “What makes you ask such a thing?”
“Well – don’t look yet! – but there’s a guy who’s been hanging around. I want to know if you recognize him. Here… look in that window. You can see his reflection like in a mirror.”
MacGyver felt her whole body tense at his words, and he kept his arm in place to keep her from running away. He hadn’t expected her to react so violently; her face went pale as she searched the reflected faces of the people behind them.
“I don’t – I don’t see anyone I know.” She shrank against him. “Are you sure – sure he’s following us? There are so many people – ”
The men noticed them watching them in the reflected glass. Immediately, they began to close in on them with intent, maneuvering across the flow of people moving in and out of the museum.
“Let’s go.” MacGyver guided her down the steps of the museum, his long arm catching the attention of the only taxi idling across the street. The driver zipped over to meet them at the curb – callously ignoring the right-of-way of the other drivers on the road. MacGyver pulled the rear door open. “Jump in quick!”
Natalya willingly ducked into the dark interior of the car, and MacGyver slipped in beside her, folding his longs legs up in the cramped space. “Ambassador Hotel, please,” he said to the driver as he pulled the door shut. He kept himself from flashing an obnoxious grin at the men who were stumping down the steps after them, stymied by the fact that there were no more cabs available.
Everyone, sometimes, needs a camel.
Old troubleshooters never die...
They just wait til the last moment and then rescue themselves!
