The Charm School

other factors. And authority never came from the muzzle of a gun. Are we learning something?”
    Burov snapped, “Get on all fours and crawl out here.”
    Hollis dropped to all fours and moved out into the hallway as Burov stepped back.
    Burov said, “To the right.”
    Hollis crawled down the hallway, and Burov came up beside him close enough to kick Hollis in the head with the heel of his bare foot. “I’ll show you who has the power and the authority here.”
    Burov led Hollis into the master bedroom. “On your back.”
    Hollis rolled over on his back, and Burov walked out of his line of vision, then stomped his foot down on Hollis’ face.
    “Take off your jacket and sweat shirt, and pull your pants down around your ankles.”
    Hollis sat up slowly, Burov still behind him, and removed his parka and shirt, then slid his pants down.
    Burov snatched the jacket away, then said, “Lie down, hands under your ass.”
    Hollis lay down and put his hands under him.
    Burov went through Hollis’ parka. He tossed a spare ammunition clip aside, then said, “What is this?” He threw the silver general’s star on Hollis’ bare chest.
    Hollis made no reply, and Burov kicked the top of his head. “And what is this in these aluminum cigar tubes, Hollis? Names… ah, a class roster, living and dead. Where are you bringing this?”
    “One copy to Washington, one to Moscow.”
    “Yes? You think so? I don’t think so.”
    Hollis thought Burov’s voice sounded strained. He heard Burov move to the far side of the room and glanced over at him. In an alcove near a window was a radio transmitter, and as Hollis watched, the radio glowed to life. Burov said, “I’m going to call out the entire Border Guard detachment from their barracks, Hollis.” He picked up the handset.
    “Where is your wife, daughter, and your mother?”
    Burov turned toward him. “Why do you ask?”
    “This place is surrounded, and there will be shooting. I’ll guarantee them safe passage out of this house.”
    “You can’t guarantee anything, you shit.”
    “They can leave now. Before you call.”
    Burov, still holding the handset, came toward Hollis. “There is no one surrounding this house.” He kicked Hollis in the side of the face.
    “You know there is. The guards are dead, and your phone is cut.”
    “But not my radio.”
    Hollis said in Russian, “Then make the call, you stupid shit, and fuck you, your wife, your daughter, and your ugly old mother.”
    Burov again kicked Hollis in the face. He held the handset to his ear and listened to the intermittent jamming as the radio in the headquarters and the one in the helipad cabin transmitted their open microphones across the band. He swore softly, went back to the radio, and switched to the alternate frequency. He heard snatches of conversation cut off as the jamming swept the frequencies. He glanced at Hollis, then said into the mouthpiece in Russian, “All stations, all stations, this is Colonel Burov. Full alert, full alert. Send a detachment of guards to my quarters at once. Be on the lookout for armed prisoners—”
    “Students!” Hollis called out. “Students!”
    “Shut your fucking mouth!”
    “Why don’t you shut yours? No one can hear you anyway. Can’t you tell the radio is jammed, you stupid shit?” Hollis added in Russian, “Don’t the Russians understand electronics?”
    Burov dropped the handset and took a long running stride toward Hollis, his foot shooting out toward Hollis’ head. Hollis sat up quickly, causing Burov to lose his balance as his foot sailed through the air. Hollis lifted himself on his hands and pivoted his legs around, knocking Burov off his feet. Hollis’ right hand wrapped around Burov’s revolver, and he held the cylinder in place as Burov tried to squeeze off a round. Hollis jabbed the fingers of his left hand in Burov’s eyes, then jabbed into his larynx. Burov let out a gasp but did not loosen his grip on the pistol. Burov’s left hand chopped down on Hollis’ neck twice before Hollis could grab Burov’s wrist. Hollis kicked his shoes and pants off and brought his knee up into Burov’s testicles.
    The two men rolled and thrashed around on the floor, Hollis holding his grip on Burov’s revolver and Burov’s wrist, each trying to position their knees for another blow to the groin, and each aware that the other was trained in the same deadly arts. Hollis smashed his forehead down on Burov’s nose and heard it crack. Burov got