“Sir, this is a situation that I hoped to have never ended up in,” Grigory murmured. “Working with Russians is difficult, but Germans are worse. Failure is subject to extreme punishment.”
“Which is why we won’t fail, Grigory,” the Doctor replied. “You know as well as I do that our resources are limited. With the help of these people we might be able to finish our work.”
“Your work, Doctor,” Grigory corrected. “As flattered as I am, I believe genius should recognise itself. However, I don’t think guns to our heads makes work easier.”
The two we led into a truck and sat amongst what appeared to be Russian soldiers. The German ordered both of them to remain silent for the entire trip or they would arrive with no feet.
The truck started up and the two lurched inside, jostled by the soldiers that flanked their sides. The Doctor looked at them, the Germans disguised as Russians. Their disguises were convincing, even their features appeared Russian. However, the Doctor would soon see why.
Reaching an outpost at the border, the German masquerading as a captain showed papers to the guards. The officers took the papers, made several calls and as if by some miracle that Grigory could not understand, the truck was on its way again. However, it wasn’t long before the truck stopped again in an airport.
The Doctor and Grigory were ordered to leave the truck. The German was accompanied by his three bodyguards.
“We have arrived at the airport,” the German spy told the Doctor. “Soon we will board the plane over there and a few hours later we will land in a friendly depot.”
“Excuse me, sir?” one of the soldiers in the truck asked. “We were told this was an escort on Russian soul.”
The other three soldiers with this brave soldier nodded, confused.
“Ah, I forgot,” the spy murmured before turning to his bodyguards. “Kill them.”
The bodyguards moved fast, raising automatic weapons and soon the true Russian soldiers in the truck were slaughtered in a hail of bullets. Grigory watched in horror and soon he was overwhelmed with a sense of hatred for the Germans who were in fact kidnapping them.
While the bodyguards fired needlessly into the bodies of the fallen, Grigory charged forward and struck one with such a blow that their jaw shattered. Grigory would have thrown a second punch which would have put the German out of his misery if it landed, but the Doctor intervened.
Grabbing Gigory by the shoulder, the Doctor pulled his partner behind him and blocked the Germans from retaliation. The spy himself had a gun raised and would have executed Grigory where he stood.
“I warn you now,” the Doctor told the spy. “If my partner is harmed, let alone killed, you may as well kill me. Torture won’t break a man like me, but Grigory’s death will surely break you.”
The spy smiled, his moustache lifting into his nose and he immediately frowned. The spy hated the moustache, but knew he wouldn’t wear it longer. More than that, the Doctor and Grigory wouldn’t be his problem at the end of this trip. With that thought in mind, the spy held back his malicious intentions.
“If you care so much for his life, then you will keep him restrained,” the spy ordered. “Aren’t we all friends here, ja? We are all partners, so if you want it to stay that way, get it into your friends skull. If you don’t, a bullet will drive that point in for you. Believe me, Doctor, this is a mercy I offer you. Forgiveness for an offense in our country, where-”
“Are we going to Germany or do you want a second round?” Grigory spat over the Doctors shoulder.
“Oh, eager are we? Good,” the spy laughed. “Get them into the truck.”
Two bodyguards flanked the Doctor and Grigory. If their defences weren’t raised, Grigory thought he might take both of them. As it stood, these two were keeping enough distance from Grigory that any move he made towards them would be fatal.
“And you?” the spy asked the bodyguard on the ground. “Are you coming back to Germany alive or dead?”
The German cocked his gun once more and aimed it at the writhing soldier. With remarkable willpower, the bodyguard gathered himself, clinging to his jaw as it if might fall off. The spy made sure he moved fast. He was still going to execute him, but would rather not drag his body all the way to the plane.
With guns pointed at them, the two captives had a look at the plan ahead of them. Everything seemed normal enough, but then the Doctor spotted the paint work. It wasn’t so new that it was suspicious, but there were some clear mistakes. The plane was painted just before take off and there were clear enough streaks. From a distance, you wouldn’t notice, which explained how the spy got into the country.
Unfortunately, it was also how he was going to get out. Grigory was nudged by the barrel of hostile gun. Needing no coaxing, Grigory did as ordered and boarded the plane, followed by the doctor. One of the soldiers made straight for the pilots seat and started the plane.
Grigory wondered if the was the only pilot. If he was, perhaps some insubordination would be enough to ground the Germans in Russia permanently. Grigory felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over at the Doctor. He shook his head, cutting that plan from Grigory’s mind before it was put into action.
The two sat in the seats that the German’s gestured towards.
“I told you how I feel, Doctor,” Grigory murmured. “This is betrayal, this is something worthy of death.”
“Perhaps if we stay in Russia,” the Doctor replied. “But in Germany we have broken no laws.”
“You sound like him now. Have you no morals?”
“Grigory, you know that the things we have done for our research also afford us death in this country.”
“Your research, Doctor.”
“I don’t think our countrymen will care much for that detail. I believe our odds of survival are better in Germany.”
There was a gunshot and the soldier that Grigory punched fell forward into the plane.
“If these odds are better, I’m surprised we lived so long in Russia.”
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