Short beeps banged into his ears like large drops of water falling into a metal bowl. Andrei blindly stared into the TV. He gradually began to understand what he just heard. Armed people in a theater! Men and women. Chechens! How did they get there? This was Moscow, not Grozny! It couldn’t be! It was unthinkable!
Was this some kind of prank?
Andrei, bewildered, kept dialing Sveta’s home number. Short beeps. Just like she said. Finally, he heard her mother’s voice.
“Hello, Polina Ivanovna. This is Andrei. Is Sveta home?”
“No, she’s off to see a play.”
“A play? Nord Ost?”
“Yes. Everyone says it’s a great musical, so she went. How come you’re not with her?”
“Um, it sort of happened that way,” Andrei mumbled. Sveta is in that theater, and that’s not a joke, he thought.
“Did you two have a fight?”
“Sveta called me and asked to tell you not to worry.”
“Why would I worry? Sveta’s a big girl. Are you not telling me something?”
“No. It’s just that she could be late.”
“With you? Does she want to stay at your place tonight?”
“I am just telling you what she asked me to. I’m home.”
“Oh, you youngsters! What are you up to? Have her call me, okay?”
“Of course; I’ll tell her. Goodbye, Polina Ivanovna.”
Andrei tried to call Sveta’s mobile. No answer.
The movie was interrupted by a news flash. The female newscaster was saying imperturbably, “It just came to our attention that in Moscow, a group of armed individuals has taken control of a theater during the showing of the Nord Ost musical. Shots were heard in the building. All spectators and performers are held hostage. Right now, the theater is surrounded by special services and police. Negotiations have started, but the terrorists’ demands are still not clear. There’s no information about casualties. Expect an update in fifteen minutes.”
Andrei, confused, lowered the hand holding the mobile phone, which he held by his ear all this time. The screen came alive again with the gloomy frames of the werewolf movie. After the shocking newscast, characters’ fears seemed ridiculous.
Andrei pushed a few buttons on the TV remote. Different channels repeated the scant information about the attack on the theater on Dubrovka.
Was it really that serious? No, it couldn’t be! Moscow was a peaceful city; there couldn’t be a large number of armed bandits. It was probably just a couple of crazy idiots with handguns; they would be easily neutralized soon enough.
In the next news update, TV was reporting live from the scene. Armed people, it was said, were numbered in dozens; they threatened to blow up the theater if the war in Chechnya is not stopped.
“Those Chechens again! Monsters, there’s no life around them,” Andrei’s mother cursed on the spur of the moment. She, in her nightgown and bathrobe, came out of her bedroom when she heard the troubling newscast. “When are they going to be over with? Praise God you’ve finished your service. I was so worried…”
The woman launched into her customary speech about how she was scared and worried while Andrei served in the army.
The scar left by a Chechen bullet on Andrei’s shoulder started itching. The old memories reminded of themselves with a chill. What must Sveta be going through? She was scared often; she was even afraid of mice. If she lost it, the terrorists would kill her in a blink of an eye. He knew what they were capable of.
He immediately thought that had he been there, everything would be different. He would calm her down and think of something. There is no such thing as a no-exit situation.
Andrei maniacally watched the news, flipping channels, and with every second, he realized more and more clearly that this wouldn’t be over soon. It would be serious business.
Late at night, he heard police sirens and looked out the window. Along Volgogradsky Prospekt, a convoy of armored vehicles and military trucks was moving downtown. The authorities must be preparing for resolution by force. In that case, there was no way to avoid casualties.
He thought it best not to think of the worst. He couldn’t wait! He had to act!
Andrei found the army dagger that he had hidden in a toolbox. The heavy handle comfortably fit into the palm of his hand; the steel blade gave off cold specks of light. Andrei put on a hooded windbreaker and unlocked the front door.
“Where are you off to?” he heard Mother’s sleepy voice.
“Sleep, I’ll be back soon,” he assured her and slipped out of the apartment.
He wanted to be with the woman he loved and he was convinced that if he couldn’t save her all by himself, he would get into the building during the breach and protect her from any danger.
The interior of the Lada, damp with the moisture of the autumn night, made a surprised squeaky noise as he plopped onto a faux leather seat. Andrei stepped on the gas and drove into the Volgogradsky. On the intersection with Melnikov Street, he hooked an illegal left and immediately faced a police cordon. He parked the car in a nearby courtyard, went around the cordon, and came up to the front of the theater.
The giant Nord Ost sign was brightly lit. Under it, bullet holes were visible in the foyer windows. The entire Dubrovka was full of cars and buses. Numerous TV crews tried to get footage, soldiers smoked by the armored vehicles, careful to stand on the protected side, policemen kept away the gawkers and tried to maintain vehicle access.
Can’t get in through the front, Vlasov thought.
Behind the theater was some kind of industrial plant. Andrei stealthily scaled the fence. He could see soldiers there as well, but it was dark, so he walked by a long wall trying to get closer to the theater. When he found a shallow pit around a basement window, he moved aside the unattached latticework and jumped into the pit. He pulled off his windbreaker and used it to press the glass in. When he was in the basement, he looked around.
It was a low-ceilinged utility basement. Pipes of different sizes with valves and taps on them came in from different sides. A big bunch of pipes went out towards the theater.
Andrei broke through the flimsy wall above the pipes. Now there was about fifty centimeters of crawl space between the pipes and the ceiling. Andrei carefully crawled on the grey pipes. Every now and then, he would flick on a cigarette lighter to look around. The pipes were hot and dusty, wrapped in wire mesh that sometimes caught on his clothes. Soon, the bunch of pipes curved and went into a wall.
Andrei carefully felt around the obstacle. Here, just as in the beginning, the wall was just a few barely cemented bricks. He could see light through the cracks. Andrei pulled out the dagger and started prying the bricks out one by one. After he removed two bricks, he saw a room with concrete walls. This had to be the theater’s basement.
He was close!
Never mind if he’s found, he thought. They’d think he was a theater employee hiding in the building and put him with the hostages. The important thing was to be close to Sveta.
Suddenly, one of the bricks slammed into the floor. There was the sound of footsteps in the room. Andrei held his breath.
The man in the basement didn’t think long. A handgun appeared in the opening above the pipes. Its barrel was pointed at Vlasov.
Without thinking, Andrei stabbed the hand. There was a scream, then furious cursing. Vlasov picked up the dropped handgun and quickly crawled backwards. When he was behind the curve, a burst of machine gun fire erupted above the pipes. The banging was unbearably loud. Andrei curled into a donut, shielded his face, and felt tiny shards of concrete bite into his clothes.
When the shooting was over, he heard the hissing of water. Up ahead, hot water sprang out. The crawl space was quickly filling with steam. It looked like the machine gun fire damaged one of the pipes.
The return trip took much longer. Andrei had to crawl feet first, because there was no room to turn around.
Vlasov waited until gloomy morning and exited the plant pretending to be one of its workers.
Chapter 6
August 31, 8:26 PM