Igor's String Theory

A work in progress

A mad Soviet physicist has been hiding in England for decades. When he finally takes his driving test, the past catches up with him. Now he, a steadfast postmistress and a very confused British motorbike fan are racing for Riga, chased by a relentless KGB colonel and a Kazakh oligarch with a taste for full English breakfasts.

Part spy caper, part road trip, part madcap comedy. I'm publishing it chapter by chapter on Medium, and five parts are up so far. Start with Part 1, or jump in anywhere.

A taste

"Please, sir, you have to get out of the car now." The old man didn't move. He remained slumped over the steering wheel, sobbing quietly, muttering occasionally in a language the examiner didn't understand. […] "Igor!" the old man bellowed, suddenly looking up at the hapless examiner. "My name – Igor! No 'Sir', no nothing! Igor!" The examiner accidentally dropped his cigarette as he backed away from the open door, stumbling on the kerb as he went.

From Part 1 – His Own Set Of Car Keys

Masha was nowhere to be seen at breakfast time. Nor was breakfast, so Igor and Fat Tracy headed out into Riga's old town to find a cafe. Igor continued his strange behaviour of handing her British banknotes and asking her to pay for things with her card. […] "I no have Euro," he said, as if she did. "But why don't you use your card, dear?" she asked. "No work. Card – kaput."

From Part 3 – Breakfast, Guns, & Secrets

"You're, err…" John hesitated. It sounded such a ridiculous thing to come from his mouth. […] "You're not really Interpol, are you?" he finally finished. The two in front glanced at each other and sniggered. "I mean, I imagined they drive around in Fords. Probably don't have Russian accents, either…"

From Part 4 – The Hungry Oligarch

Read it on Medium