Was it a scene from the Keystone Cops or Miami Vice? It was hard to tell as the dark in the inky night, as the dark limousine burst out from the alley behind the Soviet consulate on Petrosky Avenue. As fast as they could, Volkswagen turned his car on a dime, as did Sol and his cab. Silas leaned forward to see where they were going. Halley just held on. Soon they raced out of Mariemont, down Columbia Parkway towards downtown Symmzinnati.
Mariana sat terrified in the rear-facing seat of the limousine. She sat between one of the security men and Nell. Across from them sat Dr. Andropov on the left and Commissar Stronganov on the right. Between them, sat this creature who was Stalin or Boris. It was hard to tell. His face was morphing in parts back and forth. His expressions went between psychotic anger and fear.
“Boris,” cried Nell putting her face in her hands.
“Shut up!” said Stroganov.
“Where are we going?” asked Mariana.
“You shut up also,” said Stroganov, “We are taking the Master home, back to Moscow. Soon we, I mean he, will be once more ruler of the Soviet state. We will have order and freedom once more. Where are you from girl?”
“Ukraine.”
“I thought so. Your accent is educated, as much as a Ukrainian can be educated. You will need to be re-educated, like many Soviet citizens. We will take you with us eh? Get you out of this depraved capitalist country. They cannot even run a world war properly anymore. Soon they will fall to the Pyramid Confederation. I will enjoy that.”
Sol drove like a lunatic to keep up with the Commissar’s black limo in his cab. Silas fell back in his seat and said, “Halley, we’ve got to stop them from getting on that plane no matter what.”
“Boris looked so, so…”
“Yes, I think monstrous is the word you are looking for. They’ve somehow changed him into a pseudo clone of Stalin. Interesting technology, re-writing someone’s DNA into someone else.”
“Any clue where we are going?” asked Sol.
“No. I imagine they are going to get transport out town. I heard their Dr. Frankenstein mention that they needed to get his creation to the mermaid,” said Silas.
“Yeah, whatever that means.” said Halley.
“A mermaid in Symmzinnati?” said Sol.
Just as he said that, the limo at the head of the line took off down a side street sloping down towards the riverfront.
“Hang on!” said Sol.
On the block below, a white hat police cruiser happened by. It also, got in the chase parade. In his cruiser, Volkswagen cursed upon seeing it.
Finally, it ended with the limousine screeching with to a halt at an angle. The others also screeched at different angles so that it looked like a job for parking patrol rather than Symmzinnati police regulars.
The limousine doors whipped open. Stroganov held Nell in front of him, with a gun to her head, as a shield as Silas ran forward out of the cab.
“Ah, ah, no, no, mister Whowood. Once we are safely on board the Mermaid, I will release the lovely Nell.”
“Silas!” exclaimed Nell.
Boris/Stalin struggled to stand. Andropov propped him up, but he moved like someone with palsy, involuntary movements of his arms and legs. His face twitched, but had settled into a more Stalin looking physiognomy.
“Nell,” Boris/Stalin stammered, “Nell save (pause) kill comrades, kill them comrades, (pause) me, kill.”
Terrified, Mariana reached into her purse and felt for a cross, an icon and a jar. Then she remembered her grandmother and closed her eyes.
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