The CHANGI BULLET

Chapter 39 - Officer Sowka

Dinah and Dmitry sat in a small, bare room in the Losice police station. They were miserable and cold, but at least their medication was keeping them on an even keel. They wondered what would happen to them. Liza's money might be needed to pay a fine for dangerous driving. The Hire Car company might sue Dmitry. Surely, they wouldn't be charged with any offence by the police?

It was dusk when they saw Officer Sowka again. At least they had been fed and allowed bathroom facilities during their long detention.

'How are you?' asked Officer Sowka. 'You've been better, I guess? Are you ready to go?'

'Go, sir?' asked Dinah.

'Come on.'

They followed Officer Sowka out. There were several flashing blue lights flickering on the ceiling of the main squad room, emanating from vehicles outside.

'Get in the back of my vehicle,' said Officer Sowka, leading them through the main doors.

'Where are we going, sir?' asked Dmitry. 'Are we going back to Warsaw?'

Outside, there was a mini-convoy of three police cars with two motorcycle outriders.

'This is very odd,' Dmitry whispered to Dinah, who took his hand.

'In, please,' said Officer Sowka, holding open a back door to his patrol car.

They climbed in, he slammed the door, they watched him walk round to take the driving position. They set off into the gloom, his lights illuminating the two police motorcycles.

'You can thank my sergeant for this,' Officer Sowka said over his shoulder.

'Thank your sergeant for what, sir?' asked Dinah.

'You need to get to Moscow, don't you? We are taking you to Moscow.'

Dinah and Dmitry were overcome in the back of the police car, grabbing each other. Dinah wept with joy. They could see from Officer Sowka's eyes in the rear-view mirror that he was amused and enjoying his unusual shift.

At the Russian border, the motorbike outriders pulled away to return to base, and two black Russian Secret police vehicles took up position to the front and the rear of the convoy.

Sporadically chatting over the seats, Officer Sowka told them that it was just himself and his wife together, no children, so they were not in any great rush to try to leave the planet. He wished them well, nonetheless, and they described their life since leaving Amsterdam. Dinah told him about her father's position aboard the Izzati, and that fascinated him, being ex-military himself.

A message came over the radio. He repeated it back to them. 'My colleagues and I are not allowed to enter Moscow. We will be handing you over at a rendezvous point, west of the city limits.'

'Okay,' replied Dinah.

'I think you'll be taken straight to the airport.'

Dinah looked sadly into Dmitry's eyes. 'No, Moscow for me, then.'

'No. We'll live in New Moscow, one day.'

She giggled.

'Officer Sowka,' she called. 'Can I give you a gift?'

'What gift?'

'Just a bit of money. I'll leave it on this seat when we get out. We don't need money anymore, where we're going. I thought you could buy your wife a little present, from us, as a thank you for your kind gesture.'

He laughed. 'Sure, you can. Normally I only accept bribes, but this is exceptional circumstances.'

'Good, that makes me very happy.'

The rendezvous soon took place, at a well-lit gas station. They thanked Officer Sowka profusely, promising never to forget him, and wished him and his wife a long and happy life together. He waved them off, still astonished by the plucky kids. Then the Polish-Russian police convoy turned around and headed back to Losice.

Dinah and Dmitry were faced with a rank of dark-suited, thuggish-looking men. It was very intimidating. They stood and waited. There was not a sound anywhere. Finally, a woman appeared, wearing a face mask, but trying to be less intimidating. She guided them through the Russian agents, where a big man in a camel-hair coat stepped from a long, posh vehicle. He was also masked, but appeared to be friendly, even amused by their presence.

'Liza and Oleg-Paul?' he asked. They both nodded. 'Welcome to Russia. I am the Russian Space Minister. My name is Nicholas Sergeyev. It's time for you to catch a plane, I believe.' He gave them a double thumbs up. 'You can't see it, but I'm smiling under this mask.'

They both grinned back at him.

Sergeyev sat up front with his bodyguard/driver, leaning back to continually appraise the extraordinary youngsters, who had made it that far on their own. They explained their car crash injuries, and he was even more impressed with them.

'I've telephoned ahead to England. The SEASA Director himself, Mr Leo Dovo, is my great friend. He will be waiting for you. I told him to hold the flight for you, but he giggled at me. So, I swore at him to hold the flight, and he agreed. But you have time, don't worry. My personal jet is waiting for you. It has the best caviar, and some champagne. Relax, enjoy the flight.'

The small airplane sat in a pool of white light on the airport apron. Half the Secret Service agents in Western Russia seemed to have shown up to see it off. Nicholas Sergeyev wanted to hug the two intrepid travelers, but the current health situation forbade it, so he waved with jazz hands. They waved back, thanked him several times, and then they limped their battered bodies from the car to the airplane.

It was a surreal next step for them. They got on board, where white-coated Russian doctors in visors and surgical gloves were waiting. They were required to have a swab test. Once that proved negative, the doctors wished them well and disembarked. A male air steward appeared in the cabin to settle them into their seats.

'Hello, my name is Fedor. I'm here to look after you. We will be airborne for approximately ten hours, and, as we hear the engines starting, we leave immediately.'

'Thank you, Fedor,' answered Dinah.

'You're English, miss? I like the English. Actually, my last passenger was a nice English lady. A professor, would you believe.'

'A professor?' said Dinah. 'Oh, right.'

Fedor pointed at her bandaged head, said, 'Ooh,' then sat himself down, at the back of the cabin, as the plane began to taxi.