An Unnerving Panic Attack
Chapter 10
Fortunately, the rain stopped so I didn’t need an umbrella. I really enjoyed my nightly constitutional around Red Square and beyond, trying to keep in shape. I’d put on a little weight so the walks helped. Too many cigarettes, too much wine and not enough sleep were taking their collective tolls on my body. Speaking of which, my precious bodily fluids were a quart low and needed to be replenished. So I dropped-in at a bar frequented by expats and visiting businessmen. It was a bit down-on-its-heels as they say, whoever they might be, suggesting it was a funky dive that appealed to the patrons’ sense of local color. I wouldn’t say ambience because that was too elegant of a word for the dump. But the food and drink were pretty good and reasonably priced so I never complained. I’d stumbled across the place on my first night in Moscow and it was now my favorite watering hole other than my apartment. It was only a long stone’s throw away from my place so I usually didn’t get lost on my way home.
I took a stool at the bar next to an older gentleman, a Frenchman, who introduced himself as Georges. I gave him my name in return.
“So what brings you to Russia,” I asked. It was a fairly safe question. Religion and politics were off-limits and I hated sports.
“I’m an economist for the World Bank and it’s my fifth visit to Moscow this year. Spring through fall is a good time to be here, the weather being relatively decent. But winter really sucks, big time!”
I enjoyed his grasp of American slang.
“And you my new friend, why Moscow?”
“Oh, I’m with the Church of Latter Day Saints, the Mormons. I’m a church elder supervising our recruiting efforts to convert the heathen Russians to the true word of God.” I said with a straight face, although it was difficult.
He laughed at my silly reply and I did the same, but he got the message I didn’t want to talk about myself. Braggadocio got old after awhile.
However, we did find topics of mutual interest to discuss, besides the lousy weather, and we talked on for the next couple of hours or so. We alternated buying each other drinks. That’s what good comrades and ersatz Muscovites did. It looked liked I’d be having another liquid meal.
It was time for me to leave and I wished Georges a good night, telling him I hoped to run into him again. He was a nice, friendly guy and I enjoyed the companionship.
I slipped on my London Fog overcoat and slipped out the door.
***
The wind had picked up and I had to shelter in an alleyway to light my Marlboro. No smoking bans had come to Moscow!
As I did, a man approached from the darkest end of the alley and asked for a light. He was holding an unlit cigarette in his left hand. I could commiserate since I’d been in the same fix several times.
As I reached into my coat pocket for the lighter, he struck, struck hard and slammed me face forward into a concrete wall. I was momentarily stunned, quickly trying to regain my balance, breath and composure. Jeez, I was being mugged within 10 meters of my apartment building! Okay, maybe it was 10 yards, but no quibbling please.
He next applied a stun gun, a small cattle prod, to my right kidney. It must have been set on high since the pain was excruciating. I immediately dropped to my knees. As I did so, he delivered his message in broken English: “Go home mister. You not welcome here. No go home, you suffer worse. You too young to die painful death!”
As he spoke, I slid the gravity knife from my right wingtip and thrust it blindly behind me. He howled in pain as I’d struck him twice in a thigh. That was enough for him to release me and run away. There was no reason to stay longer since he’d delivered his warning. I wiped off the blood from the stiletto’s blade on my pant leg.
It certainly wasn’t a mugging, but a cold, calculated act to scare me. And it did. Someone knew I was in Moscow and why I was here.
I’d have to explain to Pet that I’d nicked myself shaving. She wouldn’t buy my fib, However, I wasn’t about to tell her that I’d been threatened, not just yet. I still wasn’t certain whose side she was on in this deadly game.