The Makarov File

by Peter Kozmar

  Andy didn’t protest and climbed into the back seat of the cab which had been made into a bed. He studied the interior; the driver’s home while on the road. There were photos of what Andy assumed to be the driver’s wife and three young children smiling at the camera while having a picnic. He also had individual portrait pictures of each of them.

  Andy noticed a shrine, in the centre of which there were two large photographs of President Putin. That’s a bit unusual. He took a closer look: one was a close up of the President wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt and red tie, against the backdrop of the Russian flag; and, the other was of the President wearing camouflage clothing holding a hunting rifle in one hand and, in the other, the head of a large trophy stag which lay dead at his feet.

  “How did you end up out here?” the driver enquired.

  “It’s a long story, but we had a car accident and want to get back to the city,” Luba replied politely. Andy left the small talk to her, he was too tired to respond and, at this moment, talking in Russian with an American accent wasn’t a good idea.

  “You’re both very lucky, the roads around here are narrow and not kind if you have an accident. It was also fortunate that I was coming along this is quite an isolated area and it’s cold at this time of the year. Where can I drop you off?” he asked.

  “Vasileostrovsky District, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “Okay, that’s not a problem, buckle up and make yourselves at home we have a bit of drive ahead.”

  The driver pushed down on the gas and pumped the gears as the heavy transporter picked up speed.

  ***

  Luba led Andy up the steps to the entrance of the FSB offices. The grey marble interior looked identical to the Police station they’d visited in the city. Andy looked at his reflection in a glass cabinet and realized he looked dirty, unkempt and shabby. Thankfully, from behind thick ballistic glass the receptionist wouldn’t be able to smell his unpleasant odour.

  Luba approached the reception window and produced her ID card. Andy instinctively tapped his trouser pocket and felt the electronic cardkey for his hotel room. They wanted the bodies from the crash easily identified, hence the ID and room key. Smart move, like Bruce Chester’s murder, they wanted us found and identified quickly.

  “I’d like to meet with the Regional Director. I’m Luba Gamzova from Moscow, here is my ID,” she said and slid it through the small gap for the guard to check.

  “Do you have an appointment with Colonel Volkov?” the guard asked as he looked at Luba’s ID.

  “No, but he’ll see me.”

  “You’re from Moscow. You’re a long way from home. What is your business with him?” Andy could see that Luba’s patience was wearing thin.

  “I’m here on a matter of national security and I need to see Colonel Volkov. I’m not at liberty to discuss the matter here with you.”

  “The Colonel is a busy man, let me see,” the guard typed into his computer and frowned, “No, sorry, he’s busy all day.” He slid the ID back through the small gap.

  “If I could I speak with his assistant and make an appointment please?”

  The guard looked behind Luba and stared into space for a few moments with a blank expression across his face as he thought about her request. He snapped back to life and picked up his desk phone punching in four digits. He spun in his swivel chair, turning his back on them. Luba strained to hear the guard’s side of the conversation, but picked up only the occasional word. The guard laughed loudly, spun back to face them and hung up the phone.

  “You are in luck. His assistant will see you. She’ll be here shortly.” They didn’t have to wait long as a petite blond woman opened the door. She wore a grey jacket, knee length skirt and knee-high black boots.

  “Ms Gamzova? Please come with me.” Luba and Andy went with her through the door. “I’m Lenya Akulova, Colonel Volkov’s Assistant, let me take you to my office, we’ll use the elevator. What brings you to Saint Petersburg?” Akulova enquired, as they waited for the elevator to arrive.

  “We are running an investigation and it leads us to your beautiful city,” Luba informed her. The elevator arrived and, after they were all inside, Akulova touched her security card against the sensor pad and hit the button to the fifth floor. The doors closed and the elevator gently ascended.

  “What has this to do with Colonel Volkov?” Akulova pressed.

  “I can only discuss this sensitive matter with him directly,” Luba replied politely.

  “And, who is this?” Akulova asked, looking directly at Andy.

  “He’s helping me. He doesn’t say much. The less he says, the better.” The two women laughed and Andy smiled. Even though his Russian was good, he knew his accent would set off alarm bells and they didn’t need that, for now at least. The doors opened, and they were led a short distance down the wood panelled corridor to her office.

  “Please come in and sit,” Akulova said directing them to chairs arranged around a solid wooden desk. They sat facing Akulova. “Let me look at the Colonel’s diary and find a time for you.” Akulova used the computer and typed a message. Andy figured she was messaging her boss. She stretched her head over to her left shoulder. “Hmmm.” She typed some more between pauses, as though she was having a conversation via messaging, she straightened her head and flashed a brief smile, “The earliest time I can find is in three days at four in the afternoon for half-an-hour.”

  Luba stood. “Is the Colonel in his office?” she demanded.

  “He’s a very busy man. Just finding a time with him is a challenge at such short notice. I’m sorry this is not the news you wanted. Maybe you should go back to Moscow and deal with it from there with your boss.”

  Luba looked livid. Andy hadn’t seen her this angry and he could see she fought to hold her composure. “Do you have a phone with an external line which I can use in private?” she asked calmly.

  Akulova smiled, “Of course. You can use it to call for a cab to the airport and arrange your flights back to Moscow. Let me take you to an unoccupied office.”

  She stood and led Luba out of her office and gently tapped on the door opposite. With no reply, Akulova pushed the door open, “Please use this phone. Dial nine for an outside line. When you’re finished, just come back to my office and I’ll show you out.” Akulova closed the door and returned to her office where she looked at Andy.

  “You’re not with your colleague to make the call?”

  Andy had a brief answer, “No.”

  “I’m not being funny, but this isn’t Moscow, and you people can’t barge in here and tell us what to do. How would you like it?”

  Andy shrugged, looked at the floor and folded his arms. He hoped Akulova would take the hint and wouldn’t continue with her conversation. A few minutes later Luba returned.

  “Are you finished?” Akulova asked and, before Luba could reply, she stood and walked to the door, “Let me show you the way out.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to wait here for a few minutes,” Luba said as she sat down next to Andy.

  “Yes, that’s okay, the cabs can take some time and it saves you waiting outside in the cold. Let me know when you would like to leave,” Akulova smiled.

  CHAPTER 43

  The ringing phone on his private line disturbed his reading of the Novaya Gazeta. Few people knew his private number and the call made him curious. He took his feet off the desk, threw the paper down and picked up the handset.

  “Colonel Volkov, Regional Head of Security,” he barked down the phone.

  “Colonel Volkov, thank you for answering my call. I hear you are a busy man.” Volkov looked puzzled, “This is General Bunin.” Volkov’s mouth went dry and he automatically sat to attention. “You attended my seminar last month on the opportunities of social media in asymmetric operations to create political change.”

  “I did. I did. I found it very interesting” Volkov knew the General hadn’t called to discuss his address to the leadership te
am of the FSB, “General, how can I help you?”

  “There is an FSB agent, Luba Gamzova, and an American sitting in your assistant’s office who have been trying to see you in person. I understand they have not been granted their meeting. Ms Gamzova is working on an important project for the office of the President which involves our national security. Any hindrance to her is a hindrance to the President.”

  Volkov shook. He couldn’t speak.

  “When I hang up you’ll receive another call on this line. Think carefully before you open your mouth.”

  The line went dead. Volkov felt sick. To receive an unexpected call from the head of the FSB about someone sat outside his office meant his visitor wielded real power and he was in trouble for ignoring them. His head started to spin as the phone rang. He froze. He didn’t want to pick it up. The sound of the ringing phone burned his ears. Volkov wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs before picking up the handset.

  “Colonel Volkov, Regional Head of Security.” Volkov was less assured and concentrated to stop himself from stammering.

  “Volkov, this is President Putin. I have one of my team sat outside your office and is unable to see you. She has been told she can’t see you for three days, but she can pick up the phone and reach me within minutes. You must think you are very important. Are you more important than your President?” before Volkov could mutter a sound, the President continued, “Stop fucking around. Help her or I’ll have you immediately arrested and on trial for obstructing the Office of the President and interfering with a case involving our national security. I will personally see you serve at least thirty years hard labour.”

  “Yes, Mr President, I will see her now and give her all the support and assistance she needs.” The line went dead leaving Volkov staring at the phone wondering how an FSB Agent had so much influence.

  CHAPTER 44

  The solid connecting door flew open as Volkov rushed into Akulova’s office. He appeared pale, flustered and embarrassed. Akulova couldn’t conceal her look of surprise as she’d never seen her boss like this. He had a tendency to be calm, calculating and controlling, but not today.

  “Is everything okay?” Akulova asked as she approached him.

  “Ms Gamzova, I’m sorry, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. A complete misunderstanding on my part, I can only apologise.”

  “Thank you, Colonel, I accept your … misunderstanding.”

  With an open mouth Akulova stood watching her boss grovel to the young woman in their presence. “Clear my diary for the day,” he barked in her direction while still maintaining eye contact with Luba. “Please, come into my office,” he said and indicated to Andy that the invitation included him. He turned towards his office and paused, then turned to Akulova. “Bring tea and coffee for our guests,” he instructed before he closed the connecting door to his office.

  Inside, Volkov gestured to the seats around a large oak table which had a dark green leather cover. “Please, take a seat”. They sat down again but this time it was Volkov who sat opposite them. Andy looked around the room, there were maps on one wall. A ceiling-mounted projector pointed to the opposite wall where there was a projector screen sandwiched between two large whiteboards.

  “Ms Gamzova. What can I do to help you?” Volkov asked.

  “I need you to immediately conduct a raid to free at least one kidnap victim, Vladim Martirossian. The address is, Bakery Number Fourteen on Basseynaya Ulista.”

  “Isn’t this a police matter?”

  “From what we have seen, the police are involved, we can’t go to them.”

  “How certain are you of this?”

  “We saw video footage of them kidnapping some Americans a few weeks ago.”

  “That’s quite an accusation,” Volkov rubbed his chin as he considered the implications of what he’d been told.

  “We watched the video, they were wearing police uniforms and drove police vehicles, one of the kidnappers could clearly be seen. We had been to the Central Police station and met with the officer who led the kidnapping, Sergeant Medyedov.”

  “Okay, let’s park that. How can you be certain of the location of the hostage?”

  “We had been working on locating Mr Martirossian, from clues he left us following a call to his wife, and had narrowed it down to one of two bakeries in the area he disappeared. We are certain they are holding him in the bakery on Basseynaya Ulista. We were taken there after we were abducted from our hotel. Mr Flint was held in the same cell as Martirossian.” Andy put his hand up to show he was still there.

  “You’re certain they had Mr Martirossian?” Volkov addressed the question to Andy.

  “One hundred per cent,” Andy replied, “I’ve known him for many years. No mistake.”

  A gentle knocking on the door put the question and answer session on hold. In walked Akulova carrying a silver service tray with a pot of tea and a plunger of steaming black coffee. There were three cups as well as sugar and milk together with a plate piled high with chocolate cookies. Although Andy really needed a more substantial meal, the cookies were welcome sight. Akulova put the tray on the table and scuttled out without looking back.

  “I know my questioning may sound sceptical. I need to be certain of what you’re telling me and the credibility of your sources. You have given me a first-hand account, thank you, I appreciate your honesty. I’ll need to bring in Major Nardin, he commands our Tactical Response Group and leads the Quick Reaction Force.” Luba and Andy nodded.

  Volkov walked around to his desk, lifted his phone handset and punched four buttons and waited a few seconds. “Major Nardin, my office, now!” He hung up. He turned to see Luba and Andy tucking into the chocolate cookie, the sweet smell of the chocolate amplifying their feelings of hunger. Volkov walked back to his seat.

  “Tea or coffee while we wait for the Major? I see you’ve made a start on the cookies.”

  “Black coffee, four sugars, please,” Luba replied.

  “Just black for me, please,” Andy added.

  “We’ve not eaten for a while,” Luba chipped in by way of an explanation.

  Volkov pressed the plunger on the thick black liquid, “I’ll get Lenya to order something more substantial from the canteen, it’s going to be a long day.” Volkov heaped four teaspoons of sugar into one of the cups and heaped two teaspoons into another, then poured the strong coffee into the three cups. He slowly stirred the coffee in the two cups before handing them their cups.

  Andy broke the silence, “Thank you.”

  Volkov nodded, took a sip from his coffee and placed it down on a coaster before walking to the connecting door and disappearing from view. Andy could hear his instructions through the open door. “Lenya can you go to the canteen and get some food for our guests. Also ask for a plate of sandwiches as I have Major Nardin joining us. We are going to be busy so arrange for more coffee.” Volkov returned and sat facing Luba and Andy. “You have friends in very high places Ms Gamzova, how did you get to know the President?” Volkov asked.

  “It’s a long story. I was posted to the Kremlin and that’s where I work.”

  Before Volkov could pry further a knock at the connecting door interrupted him.

  “Come!” Volkov bellowed.

  A tall shaven-headed officer dressed in combat fatigues walked in, followed in his wake by two senior NCO’s, who were similarly dressed. Andy noticed all three wore side arms on their right thighs. The stood to attention and saluted Volkov.

  “Ah, Major Nardin,” Volkov got up to acknowledge the show of respect.

  “Thank you, Colonel. I’ve brought Sergeants Konin and Yeryomin.” The two senior NCOs nodded when they heard their names.

  “Please take a seat. Ms Gamzova from Moscow is representing the Kremlin and has a hostage rescue mission for us. We can’t engage with the local police as they are compromised. Ms Gamzova, if you could continue.” Nardin and the Sergeants removed note pads and pens and started writing. Luba went through the details of their inves
tigation and how it involved the local police. She described how they located the bakery, their kidnapping and their escape from the staged car accident.

  “What time did you last see Mr Martirossian?” Konin asked.

  “Yesterday afternoon,” Andy answered.

  “Do you believe he is still alive?” Konin continued.

  “Yes. The kidnappers have been told that it will take a few weeks to give them what they want. They need to keep him alive until then, after that he’s expendable, not before.” Andy replied.

  “Could they have moved him since yesterday?” Yeryomin asked.

  “That is possible,” Luba replied.

  “How many targets did you see?” Nardin asked.

  “We know of at least six. They are armed,” Andy answered. Sergeant Yeryomin stood and walked to the street maps and studied it for a few moments before he spoke.

  “We’ll need eyes on the ground. I see four good places for observation posts and we’ll have a few footmen undertake the CTR.”

  “CTR?” Andy asked.

  “Close Target Reconnaissance. We’ll send men to the building who will check it out.”

  “Phone intercepts,” Nardin spoke to the room.

  “Yes boss, I’ll arrange that immediately,” Konin answered.

  Nardin continued, “Colonel, with the police being compromised, I suggest we bring Captain Meledina in to run a counter-intelligence operation while we execute the raid.”

  “Good idea.”

  Andy could feel the intense energy in the room as the team discussed the task and formulated their plan. He felt privileged to be with a foreign intelligence service preparing for a live operation. He knew Vladim had the best chance of getting out alive with this team of experts working on his rescue. A quiet knock at the door halted proceedings.

  “Come!” Volkov bellowed. Akulova appeared at the door with a food cart full of food and more pots of tea and coffee. On the shelf below were two plates stacked with fries, sausages, beans, cabbage and topped with two fried eggs. She pushed the cart into position next to the table. “Lenya, please give Captain Meledina my compliments and ask her to join us.”