The Soul Stealer. Alex Archer

attracts trouble.”

      “We can get into that later, if you don’t mind.” Gulliver leaned back and helped himself to the pitcher of beer on the table. “I’ve got a glass all ready for you, m’lady. Can I pour you one?”

      “Sure,” Annja said.

      She watched Bob’s hands grip the pitcher and pour the beer into her glass. Blue veins in his hand snaked their way up his forearm, twisting around bands of thin muscle. “I see you still haven’t porked up any,” she said with a laugh.

      “It’s genetics, I think. I was born this way and damned if I can eat enough to gain an ounce,” he replied.

      “That and all the biking.”

      “Well, sure, but then again, if not for my bike, we never would have met.”

      Annja smiled. She and Gulliver had met on the set of Chasing History’s Monsters a few years previously. Biker Bob had arrived on the set each day riding a candy-apple-red 1950s five-speed bike complete with a playing card striking the spokes for the required sound effects. Over lunches and quick dinners, Annja had learned that he possessed an uncanny intelligence and sense for finding unique dig sites. While his methodology was unorthodox, his research and passion were undeniable. Annja had quickly realized Bob had the makings of a true friend.

      “So what’s so special that you dragged me all the way over here? I mean, Siberia? That’s a bit of a stretch even for you, isn’t it?”

      “You know how much history is locked into this part of the world? We’re in the regions where the Mongol hordes got their start. The legends that exist here are spectacular. And now, with the old Soviet guard finally dismantled, we can actually begin to explore this area like never before,” Gulliver said.

      Annja sipped her beer. “And it will look ever so exciting as we tape bouncing along the roads on a bike. Is that it?”

      Bob fixed her with a stare. “You know I never call for my video team until I have something to really show the world. This is more of an excursion. I’ve been fascinated with Siberia for years. And when I decided to bike across the northern part of the continent, I thought it would finally be a good time to see what could be seen.”

      “And you called me.”

      “Of course! Why not share this with the one person I know at least respects my work? I thoroughly enjoyed the time we spent together on set and thought this would be a magnificent way to continue our friendship.”

      “I suppose it is.” Annja shivered. “It’s just this part of Russia leaves a bit to be desired.”

      “You referring to the poverty, the gangs or the somber mood?”

      “Is there an option for all three?” she asked.

      Gulliver laughed. “Definitely. I won’t pretend this is a pretty part of the country, because it’s not. But we aren’t staying here, anyway.”

      “We’re not?” Annja asked, intrigued.

      “No way. Our destination lies farther north. A road that winds its way through some very old places on the way to Yakutsk.”

      “Never heard of it,” Annja said.

      Gulliver downed his beer and poured himself another. “Remote doesn’t begin to describe it. I hear that when the Soviets ran things, even they didn’t dispatch much in the way of bureaucratic might to the area. Even to those guys, there were places in their own country that they deemed better left untouched.”

      “I wonder why?” Annja asked.

      He clapped her on the arm. “That’s what you and I are going to find out!”

      Annja shrugged. “Well, as I was just lying around my loft feeling bored and restless, this is, I suppose, a great way to relieve the boredom.”

      Gulliver nodded. “That’s the spirit I know and love.”

      Annja glanced at Gregor, who was paying more attention to the wood of the bar and very little to the small drink he had in front of him. “Gregor’s not very social,” she observed.

      Gulliver smiled. “He’ll nurse that vodka for hours if we let him. But he’s just doing his job.”

      “Which is?”

      “Well, one part was making sure you got here intact.”

      “And why wouldn’t I?”

      Gulliver sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re young and very attractive. And while I know that you’re more than capable of handling yourself and any trouble that comes your way, the rest of this part of the world does not.”

      Annja grinned. “Sounds like you’re protecting them from me .”

      “Well, using Gregor to ward off any unwanted attention is a smart move. He knows the ins and outs of this region better than anyone else.”

      “How so?”

      “Born and raised here. He was an enforcer for one of the local syndicates but he went freelance a few years back.”

      “And they let him?” Annja asked.

      “You might have gotten the impression it’s not wise to say no to him.”

      “He is imposing.”

      “They thought so, too. He still does errands for them on occasion, but nowadays, he looks out for numero uno.”

      Annja sipped her beer. “And you trust him?”

      “I saved his life,” Bob said. “There’s nothing he won’t do for me.”

      “Now, there’s a story I want to hear,” Annja said.

      “Later. I suspect he might be embarrassed if he knew I was telling you. And embarrassing these guys is never a wise move,” Gulliver advised her.

      Annja finished her beer. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

      “Six in the morning.”

      “That early?”

      “Sure.” Bob’s eyes twinkled with glee. “I even got you a bike.”

      “It’s not candy-apple-red, is it?”

      He laughed. “No, but it does have racing stripes.”

      “You wouldn’t—”

      “I’m kidding.” He rose from the booth. “Now let’s see if we can scare up one final good dinner before we head off into the great unknown.”

       3

      By the time dawn poked its head over the gray horizon and lit up Magadan to more of a beige hue, Annja had already been up for two hours. She’d slept fitfully, tossing and turning until some time after three in the morning. She’d finally rolled out of bed and started working on her yoga asanas. Before she knew it, she was relaxed and sweaty, and she felt better than she had in bed.

      She showered quickly, not for fear of being late, but because the hotel—if you could call it that—didn’t have any hot water. Shivering as she stepped into her clothes, Annja warmed herself up by doing some deep breaths and jumping up and down to increase her heartbeat.

      Downstairs, she wolfed down a cup of steaming black coffee and something that was supposed to resemble a muffin. Then she stepped outside and found Biker Bob already there, casually drinking from a Thermos as he looked to the northwest.

      When he saw Annja, he took the Thermos away from his lips and smiled. “Good morning!”

      Annja waved. “Hi, Bob.”

      He offered her the Thermos, but Annja declined as she saw the two bicycles Gulliver had arranged. “What in the world are those?”

      He turned and bowed low,