The Soviet Comeback by Jamie Smith (best ereader for academics TXT) 📕

Nikita nodded, and without hesitation moved quickly back to the track and ran as fast as he was able in the giant fur snow boots down to the property. His heart was hammering in his chest; the anticipation of seeing his parents and little Milena combined with the fear that all might not be as it seemed was almost too much to bear.

As he reached the foot of the hill, he slowed and padded softly to the corner of the home and holstered the Sig Sauer, instead reaching for the Makarov, a weapon he preferred for close quarter action. He crouched and moved to beneath the first ground floor window. Raising his head, he peered through a crack in the curtains. His heart leapt into his mouth as he saw his mother with her back to him, sitting reading in a rocking chair next to the fire.

He felt nervous and uncomfortable arriving with so much weaponry. It could not be avoided.

He balled his fist and gave the thumbs up to Klitchkov who was invisible on the hillside, indicating the all clear.

Nikita stood and walked to the front door, more confident now but aware of how quickly he needed to convince his family to move out.

With a nervous glance over his shoulder, he scanned the snowy landscape, looking for any sign of life but could see nothing. His hairs were standing on end, adrenaline pumping through his veins once more.

He raised a fist and knocked on the door.

The scraping of a chair could be heard, followed by heavy footsteps coming steadily towards the door.

Just as he had a year earlier, the concerned face of Gabriel Allochka threw open the door, blocking all light with his broad shoulders, casting his face into shadow.

“Father,” said Nikita, eyes wide, suddenly feeling childlike.

“Niki!” boomed his father, grabbing him into a bear hug, before pulling away with alarm as his hand landed on one of the weapons Nikita was carrying. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, confused.

“This is not a social call, father; we are in grave danger,” Nikita said, his face serious. He pushed past and into the warmth of the izba, closing the door swiftly behind him.

In seconds, his mother and Milena were upon him, hugging him tightly. His mother pushed back his hood, covered his head with kisses and sobbed with happiness. “My son! Oh, praise God, it is good to see you.” She pulled back and inspected him, a huge smile across her warm face. “What a handsome man you have become,” she said, beaming, before pulling him to her again. She smelt of summer meadows, warm and fresh; it transported Nikita to a different time and he longed to stay in the embrace.

Gathering his wits, he pushed both off him. His father still stood with his back to the door, and Nikita, pulling Milena into another hug, signalled to Gabriel and his mother with his eyes.

“Milena, how have you become even taller! You are catching me up!” he said with forced cheerfulness.

Mercifully, Sophie had grasped that something was awry. “Milena, you have dirt on your t-shirt; go and change it so you don’t get it all over Niki’s lovely white clothes,” she said gently.

Milena pouted, but clearly knew better than to argue, and dashed off upstairs.

Nikita wasted no time. “I am desperate to spend time with you all, but right now you must listen to me. You are all in grave danger; I do not have time to explain, but some terrible men are coming for you all. I need you both to put on your outdoor clothes, Milena too, and come with me.”

Sophie looked shocked, and Gabriel’s eyes flashed. “We can’t just leave,” said his mother. “All of our things…”

“If all goes to plan, you will be able to return at some point,” Nikita said. “But we must go, NOW.”

Gabriel looked concerned. “Are you OK, son?” he asked softly.

“I will be once I know the three of you are safe,” he responded. Then when neither of them moved, dreadful concern and panic welled inside him. “Please,” he pleaded, wide-eyed, “we have to go.”

Gabriel nodded. “Milena!” he called. “Come here, we are going for an adventure with Niki,” he said, as he pulled on his thick black overcoat and pulled a woollen hat down low over his head. He picked up Sophie’s coat and offered her a sleeve in which she duly placed her arm with a smile. He tenderly pulled the coat to her other arm and wrapped his arms around her, placing a soft kiss on her head.

Milena’s footsteps could be heard pounding down the stairs. “An adventure?” she asked curiously. Her hair had been put into long braids that were bunched on top of her head.

“Yes, I think you are due an adventure with your big brother, aren’t you?” Nikita said, his insides churning. “Come on now; put your jacket on as quickly as you can.”

“All right, what’s the hurry?” she said, flouncing awkwardly somewhere between child and teen.

“Come now, Milena; off we go,” said Sophie Allochka, throwing her coat over to her pouting daughter and then putting on her own snow boots. Gabriel went to put out the fire burning in the hearth, and Sophie, still beaming and looking at Nikita with eyes full of love, went to help Milena into her boots, much as she squirmed and resisted.

Nikita cautiously turned the latch on the door and opened it a crack. “I am just going to check… the conditions,” he added lamely, but Milena was too distracted by Sophie’s fussing and didn’t notice.

Gabriel turned his head and nodded, mouthing, “Be careful.”

Discreetly withdrawing his Makarov, Nikita stepped outside, closing the door quickly behind him. He held up three fingers followed by a chopping motion to the spot where he knew Klitchkov was