The Ring of the Queen (The Lost Tsar Trilogy Book 1)

by Terri Dixon

  Part XXII

  Confidentially, the type of male I find most enjoyable for a friend is one who has enough fire and assurance to speak up for his convictions.

  -Marilyn Monroe

 

  I started to pull his sweater off over his head. I couldn’t wait to see the chest that lay underneath it. I wanted to see and feel every inch of his body. I couldn’t get close enough to him.

  “Are you sure about this?” Peter asked me, as he lay on me, looking me straight in the eyes.

  I smiled. “Yes.”

  “I don’t want you to feel like a one-night stand,” he said.

  “I won’t,” I replied.

  “What if I never see you again?”

  “Hopefully you’ll remember me for the rest of your life.”

  “I already will. This won’t be the reason for me remembering you.”

  “I bet I can change your opinion on that.”

  He smiled and turned down the light. The rest of the night is somewhat a blur. I’ve never lusted so recklessly after a man in my life, and I didn’t care if I never did again. Everything felt right. I do mean everything. Every kiss, every touch, every thrust, and every whisper, made me feel alive like I’ve never felt before. It was as though all the things that were happening to me in Russia from rings of Tsars to the President chasing me down disappeared. I never thought for a moment about whether or not Peter thought I was a slut, or where the relationship might go. It was pure animal magnetism. I’ve never regretted that night. Not for a single second. There was something about Peter from the moment I laid eyes on him. He was like no other man I’d ever known. He was strong and smart. He was confident and vulnerable. He was unique. I still had to work to figure out what it was about him that made me want to be with him. Love didn’t happen in a day, at least not as far as I knew.

  When I woke in the morning, I rolled over to see that there was nothing left of Peter in my bed except for the indentation in the pillow next to me. I looked at the clock on the mantel over the fireplace. I couldn’t believe that I’d slept so late. It was nearly 9:00. It would start to get light soon. January in Russia was very dark and very cold. I don’t know which part was more intensive, the cold or the night. It was also quiet. Tish lived 9 kilometers from Dubna. I’m not sure how far that is in miles. I’m guessing it wasn’t very far, but it was extremely silent in the country. The winter snow made certain that virtually no one was out and about, so the silence was deafening. In a way, it reminded me of home.

  I had barely had time to wonder where Peter had gone and why, when I heard a noise. I didn’t know much about Russian life, but in Indiana, that sound meant a snow machine. I rushed to the window. I saw the little tiny taillights that safety freaks had recommended decades ago for snow machines. They’d said that it would help them on the roads with cars. I have no idea if anyone driving a car during or shortly after a snowstorm could even see the lights, but as long as the safety freaks were happy, politicians could keep their jobs in the Senate and the House. I had many digressional thoughts that morning. That was only the first.

  So, I sat watching this snow machine speed away from the mansion dacha, wondering who it was, and where they were going. I was sure that it had to be someone that was staying there at Grandma Tish’s mansion. I wondered who and why. I guessed that I should put on some clothes and go downstairs to find out.

  I made my way down the stairs to the eating and living wing of the house. When I got there, Tania and Dr. Zemecki were eating pancakes at the kitchen table. Tania was smiling. Dr. Zemecki was laughing out loud and scarfing down his food at the same time. I wondered if they’d gotten together last night like Peter and I had. They’d gotten along from the second they’d met. Tania, who didn’t seem to trust anyone, seemed to trust Steve. Maybe there was something going on between them. All I could think was that I would be thrilled for them both. They seemed very compatible to me. Dr. Zemecki wasn’t that much older than us. I realized that I’d only known the both of them for a very short time, but it seemed as though it had been years. I thought that I was getting to see many sides of them in a short period of time given the situation that we were all now in.

  They both abruptly stopped whatever was going on when they noticed me. Then I was sure about the night before. They had hooked up. I could tell from the looks on their faces. Cool. I guess I was getting to know them both pretty well. I didn’t want to start a conversation about it. Sometimes it ruined everything with new couples if you made things too public for them. Celebrities have that problem. Once again, I digress.

  Tish hadn’t come from her room yet I guessed. That was probably good. She did kind of make me nervous. I didn’t really want to be in a room with her unless Peter was present, especially if she had the slightest clue where her grandson spent the night.

  Steve stood to greet me. “Hi there.” He pulled out a chair for me to sit down. “Let me get you some breakfast.” He walked over to the stove and pulled a plate of pancakes from inside of the oven below it, where he was keeping them warm. He put the whole plate in front of me. “I thought you would be good and hungry this morning.”

  “Why?” I asked, sure that they could tell that I’d spent the night with Peter by the look on my face. Oh my God, these people barely knew me. Now they would think I was a slut.

  Tania almost choked on her forkful of pancakes. She giggled. “What’s wrong with you?” She asked. “You look guilty. Did you do something that we should know about?”

  “No.” I answered immediately, knowing that I had just made myself sound guiltier. “I just wondered why so many pancakes.”

  “I realized when I got up this morning that it had been a long time since any of us had eaten.” Dr. Zemecki said. “I was famished. I thought that maybe you would be too.” He looked sideways at me. “Did you get any sleep?” He asked.

  Then I relaxed a little. They didn’t have the slightest clue about me and Peter. Good. “I got enough.” I said. “It’s almost too quiet out here. It reminds me of being snowed in on my mom’s farm. It gets really quiet on the farm in Indiana after a snowstorm.”

  “Well it sure as hell is quiet here.” Tania agreed. “I haven’t heard this much silence, well, ever. Boston is noisy and bustling. You hear sirens and traffic and yelling and screaming and loud music all night long there. This is like being in a whole other world.”

  “I welcome the quiet.” Steve said. “I get sick and tired of the sirens and the bustle in Moscow. I’ve always liked it out here. I’ve always liked Tish’s dacha.”

  “So, you’ve been here before and you know her and Peter.” I commented. I’d wanted to ask him about how they all knew each other.

  “My first year of teaching at the University, Peter was one of my students in my Western European history class. It was my first year teaching. I wasn't even a professor yet. I was still working on my dissertation. I was really nervous, and he was a nice guy. We got to talking, found out we had a lot in common on political views and such, and we became fast friends. We’ve been pretty tight since then. I would have gotten you in touch with him in the first place, but I thought he was still out of town on business for his grandma’s company. I guess it all worked out for the best anyway. You got hooked up with him anyway, so he can help.”

  “So, you didn’t know that he was in town until last night?” I asked.

  “No. Funny huh? I knew by the time that we got to my apartment, but you insisted on leaving. Who knew you would run right into him when he was coming over anyway? He always stays at my place when he’s in Moscow. He and Tish are my landlords. He probably would have come back in the middle of the night and accidentally laid down on the sofa right on me. Can you imagine?”

  I found that I wanted to giggle to myself about the irony of Peter lying down on people. “No, not really.” I said. “So, has anybody seen Peter this
morning?”

  “Yeah, he took off on his snow machine. He said he was going into town on business.” Tania told me.

  “What business?” I asked.

  “My guess is he’s trying to find a way to get you girls home without having to go back for your passports.” Steve replied.

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  "I suppose he's trying to make forgeries," Steve answered. "He's good at making copies of about anything in that lab of his."

  “Passports are impossible to forge," I said. "They put all kinds of encrypted chips in them and God knows what. Mine is more hologram than anything else.”

  “He works for one of the biggest computer labs at one of the largest computer companies in Russia,” Steve answered. “He’s a top notch programmer. He’s also done a lot of less than official work. I’m sure he can come up with something that will work for you girls.”

  “What do you mean less than official work?” I asked.

  “He’s a great hacker, not to mention a great design engineer.” Steve said. He saw the shocked look on my face. “Oh, now don’t be so surprised. The world is full of grey areas. Not everything is black and white. I would think that your naiveté would be fading by now. You must have known that Peter is somewhat of a rebel at heart.”

  “Yeah, I got that. I thought that hacking was against the law,” I commented.

  “Of course it is,” Steve scoffed. “I feel it’s a grey area. Peter would never steal anything like bank funds or secret military correspondence unless it was for a good cause. He puts out what the government here calls negative propaganda. He puts pop ups on websites where they don’t belong, so that people can hear his views on politics. It’s more brave than wrong.”

  I could see Peter reveling in the fallout of one of his improper ads on the local government website. I knew that people in many countries had taken to putting pop ups on these sites to make a point about politics. In America, it may as well be legal. It was considered part of the freedom of speech amendment. I was forever seeing things online that shouldn’t be there, and no one in America seemed to care enough to do anything about it.

  The Ring of the Queen

  Part XXIII

  I have the heart of a man, not a woman, and I am not afraid of anything.

  -Elizabeth I