Broken Together

by K. S. Ruff

  I tossed my keys on the counter. “We stopped by ZPizza so I wouldn’t have to cook dinner.” Jase lugged all six boxes in behind me.

  “ZPizza!” Brady cheered. “Please tell me there’s a ZBQ Chicken.”

  “ZBQ Chicken, Thai Chicken, Tuscan Mushroom, Italian, Mexican, and Santa Fe,” I bragged. I’d pretty much covered all the bases.

  Oni nearly slammed into Kadyn when she rushed into the kitchen. He caught her when her socks slid across the hard wood floor. She quickly steadied herself. “Oh, good! You’re here. Maxim called. He’s on his way. Can you review this list of bills and congressmen before he arrives?” She handed me a stack of paper.

  I set my purse on the counter. “I need wine.”

  “I’m on it,” Brady replied.

  My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I glanced at the message. “Konstantin and Shae are coming over. Maxim asked them to meet him here. Do I have enough pizza?”

  “Eight people and six pizzas should be fine,” Jase gritted. “Can I speak with you? Privately?” He set the pizza on the counter and pulled me toward the stairs. “How are you going to explain Rafael’s absence for the second night in a row?”

  “He’s still working?” I offered hopefully.

  “Maxim has converted your house into campaign headquarters. Mark my words, you guys are going to be pulling an all-nighter, if not tonight, then tomorrow night. There’s no way you can hide Rafael’s absence under these circumstances. Call Rafael. Tell him to fuel that souped-up jet of his and get over here. Now.”

  “It’s nearly midnight in Portugal,” I objected. “I don’t want to add to his stress.”

  “You call him or I will,” Jase growled.

  I shot him the stink-eye before tapping on my phone. Rafael’s phone transferred me to voicemail. I took a deep breath and forced a chipper tone. “Hi, handsome. Please give me a call when you get a chance. Things are getting a little crazy on this end of the planet. Love you. Bye.”

  Jase nodded his approval before stalking back to the kitchen. I made an attempt to follow him, but the doorbell rang.

  “I got it.” Kadyn muscled past me.

  I crossed my arms, ticked that I couldn’t even answer the door to my own home. “This protective custody routine is getting way out of hand.”

  “Hey, Kadyn! Good to see you.” Shae rolled onto her tiptoes and gave him a hug. “Kri, I hope you don’t mind that we’re crashing your party. I brought wine.”

  “Who needs wine?” Konstantin blustered. He brushed a quick kiss against my cheek before handing me two bottles of Ukrainian vodka.

  “So you do live here,” Maxim ribbed while shaking Kadyn’s hand. “Were you able to schedule a meeting with the Secretary of Defense?”

  “Secretary Gates will meet with you at three o’clock on Friday at the Mayflower Hotel,” Kadyn answered. “He asked me to join you.”

  “That’s perfect. Thank you for arranging the meeting.” Maxim’s eyebrows rose as he surveyed the house. “Where’s Rafael?”

  “Working,” I answered curtly.

  “Your fiancé’s neglect is unforgivable,” Maxim murmured. I offered him my cheek, but he grasped my face with both hands and kissed me squarely on the lips.

  “Rafael’s working. There’s nothing neglectful or unforgivable about that.” I tugged his hands from my neck. “I’m meeting with Senator Rockefeller on Friday. I’d like you to read through my talking points and issue brief to ensure I haven’t misrepresented anything. I’m going to review the bills and the list of congressmen Oni pulled together so we can strategize about the legislation and the congressmen we should lobby for this rider.”

  “We’ll discuss work when the meal is over,” Maxim rebutted firmly.

  We filed into the kitchen. I stopped short when I saw Brady folding a slice of ZBQ Chicken pizza into his mouth. “I’m afraid it’s each man for himself.”

  * * * * *

  “Kri!” Patrick’s voice echoed across the cavernous lobby.

  “Hey stranger!” I gathered my briefcase and the restaurant bag from the conveyor belt before giving him a hug.

  Jase strode through the metal detector clearly agitated. He was used to carrying a gun, but they weren’t allowed inside the Senate Hart Building.

  “Patrick is a friend from Senator Rockefeller’s office,” I explained. “Patrick, this is my bodyguard, Jase.”

  Patrick’s eyes widened when he catalogued Jase’s six foot three frame. “Bodyguard?”

  “Long story.” We walked toward the stairs.

  Patrick eyed the sack nestled in my arms. “Jamie said you were meeting with Senator Rockefeller. Are you buying him lunch?”

  “I’ve got two nigirizushi sets, rainbow rolls, and miso soup,” I recited. “One of the nigirizushi sets is for you.”

  He nodded his approval. “Sushi. Smart girl. What prompted this meeting with the Senator?”

  I shifted the bag to my other arm. “I’m looking for money just like everyone else.”

  He glanced at me, surprised. “Money? For what?”

  “A friend of mine is running for President of Ukraine. I’m trying to help him win the election by securing funds to extend an oil pipeline into Poland.”

  Patrick froze mid-step. “You’re doing what?”

  I nudged him up the stairs. “I’m trying to help the government of Ukraine extend their oil pipeline into Poland so they can improve their economy and lift their people out of poverty.”

  “That’s a far cry from health policy,” he noted admiringly.

  A secretive smile tugged at my lips. “That it is.”

  He opened the door to the Senator’s suite. “Clearly, we have some catching up to do.”

  I pulled one of the nigirizushi sets from the bag and handed it to him. “I’ll stop by your cubicle after I meet with the Senator.”

  He gave me a hug. “Thanks for thinking of me, Kri.”

  Jamie leapt from behind her desk when I neared the Senator’s private office. “Kri! I’m so happy to see you.”

  Jase took the bag so she wouldn’t squish the food.

  I gave her a hug. “Thanks for getting me in to see the Senator so quickly.”

  Jamie gasped as she grabbed my hand. “Kadyn proposed?”

  Jase and I shared an awkward glance. “No. I’m engaged to Rafael.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’m so sorry. You must be Rafael.”

  Jase offered a sympathetic smile. “No. I’m Kristine’s bodyguard, Jase.”

  Her jaw fell slack.

  I patted her back. “I’ll be offering the CliffsNotes to Patrick after my meeting with the Senator. Maybe you should join us.”

  She nodded before lifting the handset on her desk. “Ms. Stone is here to see you, sir.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?” Jase asked. “I’d like to hear what he thinks of this plan.”

  “The Senator doesn’t know you, you’re kind of intimidating, and I’m worried that could impact his willingness to get involved.” This was the very same argument I’d presented to Maxim and Konstantin. I felt my odds of winning the Senator over were better if I approached him alone.

  He handed me the sushi.

  Jamie opened the Senator’s door. “Good luck,” she whispered for my ears only.

  I took a deep breath before approaching his desk. Senator Rockefeller was one of the kindest but also one of the most intimidating men I knew. His position on the Senate Finance Committee; the Subcommittee on International Trade, Customs, and Global Competitiveness; and the Select Committee on Intelligence rendered him the single most influential congressman I could possibly recruit. This rider would die without his support.

  Senator Rockefeller towered over his desk. “Kristine. What a pleasant surprise.” He clasped my hand in his. “Let’s sit over here.” He motioned toward a group of chairs nestled beneath a large ink wash painting. The painting depicted a whimsical Japanese landscape.

  “Thank you so much for squeezing me in. I’
ve missed eating at Yamato, so I stopped for sushi on my way over. Would you like to eat while we visit or should I put this in the refrigerator?” He had a small refrigerator in his office.

  “We should eat the sushi while it’s fresh.” He strode toward the refrigerator. “What would you like to drink?”

  I pulled the soup and sushi containers from the bag. “Sprite, please.”

  Senator Rockefeller set two Sprites on top of the coffee table before settling into the chair next to me. “I reviewed the issue brief you e-mailed to Jamie yesterday. Would you mind explaining your interest in Ukraine?”

  I eased back into my seat. “I spent some time in Ukraine last June, teaching conflict resolution at the Tavrida National Vernadsky University for Seeds for Peace. I witnessed Russia’s meddling in Ukraine’s governance while I was there. I met with Prime Minister Azarov. I know how much he and the Ukrainian people want to end Putin’s stranglehold on them. The Odessa-Brody pipeline will enable them to do so, but they need help funding the extension up to Plock, especially now that Yanukovych has absconded with billions in public funds.”

  He sipped a spoonful of miso soup. “When you say you witnessed this meddling…”

  Tears threatened to fall. I blinked them back forcefully. “The SVR kidnapped me and a colleague the day after Prime Minister Azarov offered me a job with their ministry of foreign affairs. The SVR accused us of being spies. They injected us with truth serum and tried to force a false confession by subjecting us to electric-shock torture. They refused to release us until Prime Minister Azarov and President Yanukovych agreed to extend the lease allowing the Russian naval fleet to remain in Sevastopol. They were renegotiating the terms of that treaty the day we were seized. We had to pay ten million dollars to secure our release even though they signed the treaty.”

  Senator Rockefeller set his soup aside. “I’m sorry, Kristine. I didn’t know.”

  I nodded stiffly. “With the ousting of President Yanukovych and the upcoming elections, we have a unique opportunity to improve human rights and human security in Ukraine. Maxim Markov, the man nominated by The People’s Front, is the same man who negotiated my release from the SVR. His entire family was killed by the KGB. He wants to end these human rights violations, end Russia’s meddling in their governance, improve democracy, strengthen civil liberties, lift his people out of poverty, join NATO, and strengthen ties with the EU. This pipeline will help him achieve those goals, but Ukraine is not the only country that would benefit from this economic aid package.”

  “This pipeline would help reduce the EU’s reliance on Russian oil,” the Senator observed.

  “Precisely,” I agreed. “If we can secure this alternative fuel source for the EU, we can reduce their dependence on Russian fuel. This would limit Putin’s ability to manipulate them in international politics.”

  He stirred wasabi into his soy sauce. “While this economic aid package clearly benefits the EU and the United States, you’re going to have a difficult time securing funds from Congress in this economic environment. I think you’d fare better with the IMF, the European Investment Bank, or the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development.”

  “There’s another potential benefit to the United States, which I didn’t mentioned in the briefing,” I confessed.

  He arched a single eyebrow while savoring the sushi.

  “Mr. Markov has expressed an interest in allowing the United States to position the missile defense shield we had planned for Poland in Ukraine. He’s meeting with Secretary Gates this afternoon.”

  The Senator nearly choked on his food. “Mr. Markov is meeting with Secretary Gates?”

  I slathered wasabi across the top of my sushi. “Kadyn arranged the meeting after Maxim requested his assistance in securing their eastern border.”

  “He’s worried Putin will bomb the pipeline,” he noted astutely. “Do you think Mr. Markov can win the election?”

  “He’s been working with Prime Minister Azarov for years. He’s highly respected. The media treats him like a celebrity. He’s got the support of The People’s Front, a pro-Western, anti-Russian, pro-democracy movement. These are the same people who forced Yanukovych out of office. So, yes. I think he can win this election, especially if he secures funding for the pipeline.”

  “Seven hundred eighty million dollars’ worth of economic aid wouldn’t be all that unreasonable for a country willing to house our missile defense system,” Senator Rockefeller mused. He pushed his lanky frame from the chair and strode toward his desk. “What time did you say that meeting was?”

  I tried not to smile. “They’re meeting at the Mayflower Hotel at three o’clock.”

  He lifted the handset on his phone. “Jamie, clear my schedule for this afternoon, secure a driver for two-thirty, and get Secretary Gates on the phone.” He returned the handset before folding himself in the chair next to me. “I want to know everything you know about Maxim Markov.”

  My heart plummeted. This was the part of our conversation I’d been dreading most. “Maxim Markov saved my life. He also saved Kadyn’s life. He loathes Putin and everything he stands for. He values democracy. He is fiercely protective and loyal to the citizens of Ukraine, but…” I swallowed nervously, “he used to work for the Russian mafia.”

  Senator Rockefeller’s disappointment was nearly palpable. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “He severed ties with the Russian mafia when he was asked to run for president,” I added hopefully.

  “And that was?” he inquired with a sigh.

  I cringed. “Five days ago.”

  He shook his head. “Five days? How do we know he’s truly severed ties? Kristine, what you’re asking is political suicide. I cannot support a former mafioso in his bid for the Ukrainian presidency. I’d be forced out of office.”

  “I’m not asking you to fund Maxim’s campaign, and the money isn’t going to the Russian mafia. This economic aid package would go directly to the Ukrainian government,” I argued softly.

  “Surely, Mr. Markov will take credit for securing this aid. He is weaving this into his campaign?”

  “Yes,” I admitted grudgingly.

  “I’m sorry, Kristine. As much as I’d like to decrease the EU’s reliance on Russian fuel, I cannot sponsor an economic aid package that arguably benefits the Russian mafia.”

  I forced an even tone. “What about the defense shield?”

  He ate another piece of sushi. “Secretary Gates won’t pass up this opportunity, but he will insist on working with the interim government, or he’ll wait until the new president is elected to install the missile defense system.”

  My eyes widened when the solution whacked me upside the head. “What if Maxim was working for the interim government?”

  Senator Rockefeller looked surprised. “Is he… working for the government?”

  I shot to my feet. “Senator, will you excuse me? I need to make a quick phone call.”

  He stood politely. “Of course.”

  My heart raced. I hurried from the room.

  Jase rose from his chair. “Are we leaving?”

  I looked at Jamie. “Is the conference room free?”

  She glanced at her computer screen. “Yes. It’s available until one o’clock.”

  “I just need five minutes to make a phone call,” I promised.

  Jase followed me down the hall. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” I ducked inside the conference room. “Just… give me a minute. Okay?”

  He followed me into the room. “Okay.”

  I scrolled through my list of contacts until I found Maxim’s name. My foot tapped anxiously while I waited for his phone to ring.

  Jase pulled the door closed, folded his arms across his chest, and studied me intently.

  “How was your meeting?” Maxim answered.

  I began pacing. “Is Mykola Azarov still serving as the Prime Minister of Ukraine?”

  �
��Yes,” Maxim replied. The word was drawn out as if he were hesitant to say more.

  My feet slowed, briefly. “Does the Prime Minister support you in this bid for the presidency?”

  “Yes. I am the only candidate Prime Minister Azarov is publically supporting,” Maxim boasted. “Why?”

  “Is Leonid Kozhara still serving as the Minister of Foreign Affairs?” I couldn’t believe I was plotting to get the man who’d previously offered me a job canned.

  “Yes,” he admitted hesitantly. “Why do you ask?”

  I tried to ignore the frustration in his voice. “Is Mr. Kozhara supporting you in this bid for the presidency?”

  “Yes,” Maxim gritted. “Why do you ask all of these questions?”

  “Are you and Mr. Kozhara on good terms?” I continued.

  “Kotyonok,” Maxim warned. “I would not have encouraged you to work for him if we were not on good terms.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay. Can Prime Minister Azarov appoint you the Minister of Foreign Affairs while you are running for president?”

  “No. The Minister of Foreign Affairs is nominated by the President, not the Prime Minister,” Maxim corrected, “and that nomination must be approved by the Ukrainian Parliament.”

  “Would the Chairman of the Ukrainian Parliament be willing to nominate you, since he’s acting as president, and would the Ukrainian Parliament approve this nomination?” I quickly amended.

  “Kristine, why do you ask these questions?” Maxim demanded.

  “Because Senator Rockefeller will not support an aid package that can be perceived as benefitting the Russian mafia. He’s far more likely to support an aid package solicited by the Ukrainian Minister of Foreign Affairs. And, Maxim? I think you’re going to run into the same problem with Secretary Gates this afternoon. He’s clearly interested in positioning that defense shield in Ukraine, or he wouldn’t have agreed to the meeting. But he isn’t going to negotiate a deal with the Russian mafia. He’ll insist on dealing with the interim government, or he’ll wait until the new president is elected.”

  Silence ensued.

  “Maxim?”

  “I’m here,” he answered gruffly.