Andrej Nitchenko was at his villa, but a quick shower and changing clothes had done nothing for his badly burned face, or for his bad mood. He was filled with an indomitable rage, and almost a whole bottle of vodka had only been petrol on the fire. The two Chechen brothers sat looking down at the highly polished tabletop. They, too, had been marked by the dramatic events at the airfield. Not physically, but on their pride. And the loss of their beloved older brother Shamil could only be dulled by bloodshed.
The desire for vengeance gleamed in their eyes as Andrej Nitchenko tried to get an idea of the various routes the escaped had used in their attempt to flee. He choked down a healthy swig from the almost empty vodka bottle and kicked a filing cabinet in rage before sitting down and unfolding a map of St Petersburg on the table. The men studied it in silence. They all knew that identifying which escape route would be chosen would be difficult. St Petersburg had many accessible passageways to western Europe. The city was close to the satellite states that, since their breakaway from the Soviet Union, had done everything in their power to demonstrate their independence. There were many train, bus and ferry routes to the West. Because the naval officers’ academy and the headquarters 399of the Baltic Military District were located in St Petersburg, there were also five airfields. Two civilians and three large military airbases. Of the three military airfields, one housed nuclear-equipped tactical bombers, another served primarily as the headquarters of the district, and the third – Garbolovo Airbase – was manned by an elite unit, the thirty-sixth Independent Airborne Brigade. None of these could be excluded as plausible escape routes in the new Russia where money could buy anything.
‘We have guards at the international airport,’ Nitchenko remarked after a long pause, pointing to the map as he continued: ‘The railway station, the bus station, the primary ferry routes, and the cruise ships with routes across the Baltic Sea are already under surveillance. The military airfields shouldn’t be an option as their strategic status prevents unauthorised departures. But check them anyway, just to be on the safe side. The commanders are rotten to the core. What else have we not covered?’
‘The industrial harbour,’ said one of the Chechens, pointing eagerly at the map.
‘The industrial harbour… hmm… of course,’ answered Andrej Nitchenko pensively as he cautiously dabbed his scorched face with a wet towel.
‘Get someone from the guard out there immediately. We’ll go there right away. Make sure to bring weapons and ammunition – we need to end this once and for all!’ Andrej Nitchenko boomed as he hammered his big, red fist against the table and helped himself to another swig of vodka.