The Mystery of the Russian Ransom (9 page)

BOOK: The Mystery of the Russian Ransom
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Data had downloaded the maps app onto Jenny’s phone before they left, so the way back to the old rink seemed quick and easy. They were soon heading down the final street.

They decided on a game plan. Two of them – Jenny and Fahd – would stay outside and watch. They had no idea what they would do if something went wrong, but they’d at least be able to run back to the Astoria and let Muck and Mr. D know. The rest of them would head around the building to the back.

They waited patiently for the garage door to rise and didn’t move until the Zamboni driver had headed out to dump his load of snow. They knew the ropes now, and were soon inside and hidden from sight underneath the stands.

They duck-waddled and dog-walked below the stands until they reached the place where they had previously gathered. Nish was first to climb up the back of the stands and stare out onto the ice surface.

“She’s on,” he said.

“Huh?” said Sam.

“Sarah,” he said. “She’s on the ice.”

They all carefully climbed up and peered out. There was Sarah, all decked out in her Russian hockey equipment, showing one of the girls how to scoop a puck off the wet ice. She was laughing. She looked great.

“Maybe she’s a traitor now,” Nish suggested. “Gone over to the other side.”

Dmitri hissed angrily. “Russia isn’t
the other side
. It’s not a communist country anymore. That’s ancient history. We have criminals in Russia just the same as North America. Get real.”

Nish burned red. “I was just joking.”

“Okay,” said Dmitri. “But don’t forget that you and I are on the same team, right?”

Nish nodded, not sure what to say. He’d never seen Dmitri so angry.

“What are we going to do?” Sam asked.

They sat down and kicked around ideas. They could try and grab Sarah before she reached the room where they kept her, but there would be people around. Lots of people. The girl players. The two
coaches. The men and women who ran the machines and the computers.

“We will have to wait until she’s in her room,” said Travis. “We’ll wait for practice to end, and then, when the Zamboni is out, we’ll make our way to the back. I’m pretty sure I know where her room is.”

“How will we get in?”

“We have to hope there’s a lock or a latch we can open on the outside.”

“How long do we wait?” Lars asked.

“Long as it takes, I guess,” Travis said.

“I have to go pee,” said Nish.

The others turned and stared daggers at him.

“That’s it,” Travis said as he ducked back down under the stands. “They’re headed off.”

Hidden in the dark behind the stands, the Owls peered into the bright arena in front of them.

“The phone,” Travis said. He took Jenny’s phone and sent a text message to Sarah: “We are in the building. Be ready to go. Trav.”

Sarah and the players left the ice, and shortly after, the Owls heard the Zamboni burp as it was started up. The driver opened up the doors onto the ice and soon came out on the Zamboni. The big machine chugged down the boards closest to where the Owls were hidden. Once it passed and the driver’s back was to them, Travis moved into action.

He led them down, crouching and scrambling, until they reached the exit door he had found the last time. He waited, then moved quickly to slip through it. The others followed.

They waited briefly until the last of the Russian hockey players had cleared out of the locker area. Sarah was already gone. She had always been the fastest of the Owls to dress or change. Travis just hoped she was back in her room.

Once the way was clear, Travis told Sam, Lars, and Nish to wait where they were while he and Dmitri headed toward the back of the building.
He knew the way; Dmitri knew the language. They just hoped Dmitri wouldn’t have to use it.

Travis and Dmitri bent low to get past the windows looking into the room with the machines and computers. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. It was late afternoon. Perhaps they had all gone for the day.

Soon Travis was in an area he didn’t know. He let himself be guided by instinct. He came to one corridor, passed by it, and moved on to the next. It was as far back in the building as they could go.

He peered down the corridor and saw several doors. One had light leaking out from below it.

Without saying a word, Travis pointed and indicated to Dmitri that this would be the room they would try.

They moved fast down the hall, still staying low, ready to bolt at any time.

Travis was first to the door. How, he wondered, had the pounding of his heart not set off the alarms? It sounded like a marching band, his heart like the big drums the marchers wore on their chests.

Dmitri was right beside him.

They examined the door. It had a latch on the outside, just as Travis had hoped.

He turned the handle slowly, then opened the door.

The bright light blinded them a bit. Travis blinked, stared. He was looking at one of the two young men who had been coaching Sarah.

The man said something in Russian. Travis knew it wasn’t “Welcome! Come on in.”

24

T
here was a message on the phone when I returned to my room and got out of my hockey equipment. It was Travis. He said they are in the building. Now all I can do is wait – and try to remember to breathe.

I’m so scared and nervous. I may as well scribble while I wait, or else I’ll go mad.

I thought I heard a door click, but I can’t look out to check. Still, I’m sure I heard something.

Didn’t I?

25

T
ravis tried to speak, but some other foreign language – not Russian, not English – came babbling out. Dmitri brushed past him and stood between Travis and the Russian coach.

This was a Dmitri that Travis didn’t know. Always so shy and soft-spoken back home, here he was being firm and confident and talking fast. Travis just had no idea what was being said.

The young Russian coach talked back. He
seemed angry at first, then thoughtful. More and more, the talking was being done by Dmitri.

Finally, the Russian coach nodded hard, stood up, and walked over.

Travis thought he was going to be hit. Or Dmitri was going to be slapped. At the very least, they were now going to be captured as well.

The coach said something in Russian.

Dmitri turned to Travis. “His name is Pavel. We’re to go with him.”

Travis’s heart sank. They were caught.

With sagging shoulders, Travis followed Pavel and Dmitri down the hall. All the Screech Owls had managed to do was create more trouble. If the ransom was ten million rubles for Sarah alone, it would now be thirty million. And if the others were caught, seventy million.

Not even Mr. Petrov had that kind of money.

They came to an office-like room. Pavel reached inside the door and unhooked a bunch of keys from their place on the wall. He turned, jangling the keys.

We’re going to be locked up
, Travis thought.
Put in prison
.

They left the office and made their way along a short corridor. Here was a room where no light leaked out. A prison cell, thought Travis. A dungeon.

Pavel stopped, inserted the key, and turned it. He swung the door outward and stepped back so that Dmitri and Travis could enter.

Travis was crying as he stepped through. He couldn’t help it. His eyes were streaming salty tears.

The light blurred in his tears. There was someone sitting on the side of a bed.

It was a girl. She had a Screech Owls coat on – and a pink backpack.

It was Sarah
.

“Trav!” Sarah shouted. “Dmitri!”

She jumped off the bed and hugged Travis so hard he thought his chest was going to explode. He
couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t seen her in days. At moments, he’d thought he might never see her again. But here she was. All ready to go – just as he had asked her to be. Now, all three of them would be locked up together.

“How did you get in?” Sarah asked, still not understanding. “How’d you get the key?”

Dmitri, who had said nothing, merely stood to one side and pointed out the doorway.

Pavel stood there, looking in, his face crumpling. He said something in Russian, and Dmitri explained that they were to follow him.

For a moment, Travis thought he had misheard.

Pavel was going to show them the way out
.

The three Screech Owls – Sarah with her backpack, Travis, then Dmitri – hurried along behind Pavel as he led them in another direction, looping around through a large storage area in the old rink, and then back through a door that took them to the spot where Sam and Nish and Lars were waiting.

The three waiting Owls looked shocked to see the group coming from the other direction. They, too, thought they’d been caught.

Pavel said something to Dmitri, and Dmitri answered him. Pavel nodded, backing away. They knew their own way from here.

“Pavel,” Sarah said quickly. “Wait.”

She walked back toward Pavel, who looked as if he was expecting to be slapped. But Sarah had no such intention.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him.


Spasiba
,” she said. Thank you. “
Spasiba, Pavel
.”

26

T
he Owls came racing back to the Astoria just as Muck and Mr. D were arriving back from meeting with the embassy officials at the parents’ hotel.


SARAH!
” Mr. D bellowed the moment he caught sight of her.

She raced to the Owls’ manager and leaped into his arms for a huge bear hug.

Muck hugged her, too. The Screech Owls’ coach was always awkward with emotion, but Travis
could see the relief in his face and, for that matter, the tears in his eyes. Sarah was back. The world was all right again.

“That was fast work,” Muck said. “Mr. Petrov just announced that the ransom had been paid. Did they drop you off here?”

“No,” said Sarah.

“What do you mean?” Mr. D asked. “How did you get here?”

“The Owls rescued me,” she said proudly. “They found out where I was and came and got me. They’re heroes.”

“I was the one who figured out how to get in,” said Nish proudly, almost as if he expected any minute to be spelling his name for the newspaper reporters.

“But that’s impossible,” Mr. D sputtered. “We just met with the embassy people, and then Mr. Petrov and the Russian media showed up and he announced he had paid the ransom. He said you’d be released by the kidnappers tomorrow.”

“Where were you?” Muck asked.

As best she could, Sarah explained. She told
them about the arena, about the tests, the scientists, the coaches, the girls. She told them how she’d been studied like she was some alien species. She said she hadn’t been treated badly and that, in fact, one of the young Russian coaches had been the one to get them the key and set her free. He was a hero, she said.

The others filled in the blanks with shouts and boasts and laughter. Travis told about how they’d used Data’s phone and the
GPS
. Dmitri told how he had reasoned with Pavel, and how Pavel said he had come to respect Sarah so much he couldn’t stop them, how he decided, instead, to help.

Nish just wanted to talk about his own role in the adventure, how he had been the one who figured out how they could get into the rink when all the doors were locked.

“But who
were
they?” Mr. D asked. “Who would do such a thing?”

“There was one guy who seemed to be in charge,” said Sarah. “I kept trying to see him, but I could never get close enough. He wore a hat really
tight over his eyes. But I have this,” she added. From her pack she pulled out Data’s phone.

“I’ll give it back to Data,” Travis said.

“No,” Sarah said. “Wait.”

She fiddled with the phone and then held out the screen for all to see.

“I smuggled it into the last practice. I pretended I’d had the wind knocked out of me and went to the bench to loosen my equipment and catch my breath. I managed to sneak a picture of him watching. It’s not very good, but that’s him.”

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