The Romanov Prophecy Page 0,49

the St. Petersburg archives yesterday and the train last night. He was nestled amid a group of tourists who were busily grabbing a few last photos before the start of the show.

Lord's heart raced. His gut went hollow.

Then he saw Droopy.

The demon entered from the left, between Lord and his other problem. The dark hair shone with oily dressing, pulled tight in a ponytail. He wore a tan sweater over dark trousers.

As the lights came down and music blared for the second act, Lord stood to leave. But at the top of the aisle, no more than fifty feet away, stood Cro-Magnon, a smile on his pockmarked face.

Lord sat. Nowhere to go.

The first act was Akilina Petrovna, who bounded onto the stage barefoot, wearing a sequined blue leotard. She skipped to the lively beat of the music and quickly mounted the beam, starting her act to applause.

A wave of panic swelled inside him. He glanced back and saw that Cro-Magnon was still at the top of the aisle, but then he spotted the deeply lined gray slab face of Droopy, the demon now sitting about half way down. Coal-black eyes--Gypsy eyes, he concludedfocused with a look that signaled the end of a hunt. The man's right hand nestled inside his jacket, which he peeled back enough to exhibit the hilt of a gun.

He turned back toward the stage.

Akilina Petrovna was strutting across the beam in an amazing display of poise. The music softened and she kept step to the gentle beat with agile movements. He focused hard, willing her to glance his way.

And she did.

For an instant their eyes met and he caught a glint of recognition. Then he registered something else. Fear? Did she likewise recognize the men behind him? Or did she read the terror in his own gaze? If she realized any of that, she did not let it affect her concentration. She continued to impress the crowd with a slow, athletic dance while perched atop a four-inch oak beam.

She performed a one-handed pirouette, then leapt from the beam. The crowd applauded as clowns burst onto the stage riding tiny bicycles. As stagehands carted away the heavy balance beam, Lord decided he had no choice. He bolted from his seat and sprang onto the stage, just as one of the clowns rode by, honking a horn. The crowd roared with laughter, thinking him part of the show. He glanced left and saw both Droopy and the man from St. Petersburg rise. He slipped behind the curtain and ran straight into Akilina Petrovna.

"I've got to get out of here," he told her in Russian.

She grabbed his hand and yanked him deeper backstage, past two animal cages holding white poodles.

"I saw the men. You seem to stay in trouble, Miles Lord."

"Tell me about it."

They passed more performers busily going about their preparations. No one seemed to pay them any attention. "I need to duck in somewhere," he said. "We can't keep running."

She led him down a hallway crowded with old posters tacked to a dirty wall. A sour whiff of urine and

wet fur tempered the air. Doors lined the narrow corridor on both sides.

She twisted one of the knobs. "In here."

It was a closet that contained mops and brooms, but there was enough room for him to squeeze inside.

"Stay here until I come back," she said.

The door closed.

In the blackness, he tried to catch his breath. Footsteps passed outside in both directions. He couldn't believe this was happening. The policeman outside must have alerted Feliks Orleg. Droopy, Cro-Magnon, and Orleg were all connected. No doubt about it. What was he going to do? Half the job of any good lawyer was telling his client what a damn fool he or she was being. He should take his own advice. He needed to get the hell out of Russia.

The door swung open.

In the hall light, he registered three male faces.

The first he did not recognize, but the man held a long silver blade tight against Droopy's neck. The other face belonged to the man from yesterday in St. Petersburg. He was clutching a revolver, its barrel aimed straight at him.

Then Lord saw Akilina Petrovna.

She stood calmly beside the man with the gun.

Chapter Nine

PART TWO

TWENTY-ONE

"WHO ARE YOU?"LORD ASKED.

The man standing beside Akilina said, "There is no time to explain, Mr. Lord. We need to leave here quickly."

He was not persuaded.

"We do not know how many more are here. We are not your enemy, Mr. Lord. He is." The