The Balkan Escape (Short Story) Read Online Free Page A

camp.”
    She was glad to be out of there.
    “Now Russians think me dead,” he said. “I can leave and no one cares.”
    “I thought you were important to them.”
    “This is the thing about Russians. Nothing is
really
important. That belief will be their destruction one day.”
    “Are you always so depressing?”
    He shook his head. “Not anymore. I am free. I know you to be a capable woman when I first see you. I am glad you do not shoot me back there.”
    “How did you know that I might?”
    “Not hard to realize. But you are good person. You don’t pull a trigger unless necessary.”
    “How would you know that?”
    He pointed to her face. “It is there. I take a chance with you. Much better than trusting Russians.”
    She smiled. “I assume that’s a compliment?”
    He gave her a slight bow. “Most respectful.”
    This man had saved her life. She owed him.
    “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”
    He pointed to what she thought was west. “Village is not far. You can make it there on foot and find your way back to Sofia. I go this way.” He pointed south. “My wife waits for me.”
    “You must love her so much.”
    “I do. She is with child. My child. I hope it is a son.”
    He extended a hand, which she shook.
    “Too bad about tomb,” he said. “Probably destroyed.”
    She shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s been there a long time. We’ll come back and dig it out.”
    He nodded. “Good-bye. Take care.”
    She watched as he trotted off toward a thick stand of trees. She couldn’t just let him leave. “Comrade Sokolov.”
    He stopped and turned.
    “I can get you out of the country,” she said. “You’ll need some money. I can make it easier.”
    He shook his head. “Getting away from those men inside mountain. That was what I need your help for. I am okay. We both get what we want.”
    That they did.
    “You take care, too,” she said to him.
    He smiled. “Who knows? Maybe one day you return favor.”
    Maybe so, she thought.

WRITER’S NOTE

    Bulgaria has always interested me. It’s a fascinating country tucked against the Black Sea, deep in the Balkans. I visited in 2007 and decided that one day it would appear in a story. Though its debut has come in a piece of short fiction, the locale will definitely return in a future novel.
    Thracians are intriguing. The culture existed, as depicted in the story. It rose, thrived, then was absorbed by conquerors. Unfortunately, Thracians developed no written language and left only their tombs as reminders of their existence. Several hundred of those tombs have been the located, many containing a vast array of gold and silver objects. The Valley of the Thracian Kings, in central Bulgaria, is real and worth a visit. This tomb, in the southern Rila mountains, was my concoction. But it is accurately depicted, as is the surrounding geography.
    This story is a prequel.
    When Lev Sokolov trots off after Cassiopeia Vitt thanks him for saving her life, his final comment to her is prophetic.
    Five years later they will meet again.
    That tale is told in
The Emperor’s Tomb
.



Read on for an excerpt from
THE EMPEROR’S TOMB,
by
STEVE BERRY

    Published by Ballantine Books

    NORTHERN AREAS, PAKISTAN
FRIDAY, MAY 18
8:10 AM
    A BULLET ZIPPED PAST C OTTON M ALONE . H E DOVE to the rocky ground and sought what cover the sparse poplars offered. Cassiopeia Vitt did the same and they belly-crawled across sharp gravel, finding a boulder large enough to provide the two of them protection.
    More shots came their way.
    “This is getting serious,” Cassiopeia said.
    “You think?”
    Their trek had, so far, been uneventful. The greatest congregation of towering peaks on the planet surrounded them. The roof of the world, two thousand miles from Beijing, in the extreme southwestern corner of China’s Xinjiang Autonomous Region—or the Northern Areas of Pakistan, depending on whom you asked—smack up against a hotly disputed border.
    Which explained the