by Mark Spaid
“And here we are, at it again, my American friend.” They each took a sip of tea then leaned back and smiled for a moment before getting serious.
“Good to see you, Yuri.”
“Good to see you, now what’s this matter of urgency that sent your Mr. Baylor to roust me from my abode?” Landon chuckled then sighed and gave Yuri the look that signaled the small talk was over and the time for substance had arrived.
“I’m not sure what it is but I couldn’t just let it go.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“An American citizen came to the embassy a few hours ago and said he had something important. They all say that but I listen to every one of them. I have to say this one has me concerned.”
“Well, now I am interested.”
“He’s a reporter.” Yuri turned his head away and moaned. “I know but this kid is different and he is just a kid…maybe twenty-two. He and his fellow reporter were over here from a weekly paper to do a story about a favorite of mine and yours, one Andrei Kulagin.” Yuri sat up at the mention of that name.
“What about Kulagin.”
“I thought that’d get your attention. I was bored too until he mentioned Kulagin.”
“Okay, go on, my friend.”
“He and his buddy were spying on a meeting that Kulagin was holding in Volgograd.”
“What kind of meeting?”
“A rally actually, a pep rally where Kulagin was whipping up his Stalinist fervor and calling for restoration of the old Soviet Union.”
“What happened?”
“He was trashing Deniken and Lexington of course, and the weak-kneed people on both sides who are willing to give things away for peace?”
“Did he make any threats or reveal any specifics?”
“No, he’s too smart for that.”
“So, this is nothing new, what makes this kid think something is in the works more than bluster?”
“Kulagin said something about grabbing the two Presidents. Later, they ran them down and killed his partner.”
“Whoa, that is different and they chased him no doubt.”
“Yes, he was lucky to get away.”
“You’re thinking something might happen at the summit like a kidnapping?”
“He does and so do I,” Landon said and Yuri sighed and nodded.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with this.”
“You don’t trust the higher ups do you?”
“Not all of them.”
“Is Deniken safe at his summit. You know it’d be Kulagin’s style to do something for publicity. He knows the whole world will be watching.”
“Yeah and security for Deniken is light, it always has been. You Americans protect your Presidents.”
“Well, not always; we’ve had four assassinated, one shot but survived and others who were shot at or plots were in the works.”
“Yeah, I guess there’s plenty of nuts out there and it’s hard to stop them all,” Yuri remarked.
“What can you do?”
“Everything and nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can order dozens of men to provide security for anyone but that would alert the wrong people and Kulagin would know he’d been had,” Yuri said.
“That won’t do, he’d just lay low and strike again when it was right.” Yuri sat back and thought for a moment. “What?”
“I can’t help Deniken but Berelenov worries me.”
“The Prime Minister…his status as second in line makes him vulnerable.”
“Very vulnerable.
“Is he with Deniken?”
“No, he stayed away from the summit.”
“Why…shouldn’t he be there?” Landon asked.
“He and Deniken are very close friends and he didn’t want to steal any of the thunder from the President.”
“Where is Berenelov?”
“That’s the problem. He’s at his country place and he has very little security.”
“You think Kulagin would target him too?”
“Kulagin wouldn’t leave anything to chance.”
“So, who would take over if both Deniken and Berelenov were out of the way?” Yuri shook his head and groaned.
“Melenkov.”
“Oh, God, no. He’s as bad as Kulagin.” Landon commented.
“Yes, and they are close. Everyone knows Melenkov does Kulagin’s bidding and if he were in power, he’d be a puppet for Kulagin and the Stalinists would have their coup.”
“But Melenkov is only an opposition leader in the legislature.” Yuri nodded with an expression that foretold doom.
“Oh brother, you’re talking about a full-blown rebellion. A takeover…will the military support Kulagin?”
“I don’t know but I think he already has a gauge on that because like I said he doesn’t miss anything.”
“What are you going to do, Yuri?”
“I have two people that I can trust without any reservation whatsoever. I’m going to see them immediately and formulate a plan.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, keep that kid safe in the embassy. Kulagin will have men looking for him since they know he was at the meeting in Volgograd.
“Consider it done.”
“I’m not optimistic about the outcome of this thing but if it turns out alright, I’m going to take you to the opera then we’ll go back to your embassy and drink a bottle of Cherry Brandy I’ve had for thirty years…good stuff.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Landon said and Yuri nodded. They left at fifteen-minute intervals with one out the back and the other using the front.
“Catherine, get Yesikov and Kornilov back here as soon as you can,” Yuri said as he walked into his office where his secretary was typing.
“Yes, sir.”
“Haven’t I told you to stop calling me sir?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“You’re my superior, you deserve a title of respect.”
“But I…never mind just get those two here immediately, please.”
“Yes, sir,” Catherine said and Yuri walked into his office shaking his head.
“We’ll have to be discreet. If the wrong people get wind of what we’re doing, they’ll tip off Kulagin and he’ll order either a murder of Berelenov or have him taken in deep where we’ll never find him,” Yuri said softly to himself as he waited at his desk staring at his two heroes; his grandfather and father. Mikhail Petrovsky was Yuri’s grandfather and he was murdered by Stalin’s men in 1948. Nikolai, Yuri’s father fell victim to Leonid Brezhnev’s scheme, which was to sentence dissidents to an insane asylum. It was always for life and Nikolai Petrovsky died inside. Yuri grew up an angry young man and vowed revenge. Bur how does one get revenge in the Soviet Union with secret police everywhere and the populace under an iron thumb of a brutal dictatorship? Simple; you wait for the regime to collapse and when it did in the early nineties, Yuri was ready and joined the militia. He wanted to protect any of the new leaders who weren’t Communist. His hope was to ultimately blow the whistle on former KGB officials who participated in murders over the decades. That proved difficult and most were able to elude the authorities but he nailed a few and he liked his job even as mundane as it was sometimes. He picked up the photograph and grinned.
“Sir, agents Yesikov and Kornilov are here,” Catherine said into the intercom.
“Send them in, please.”
“Hello, where are we headed?” Pavel Kornilov asked as he and Abram Yesikov sat down in chairs in front of Yuri’s desk.
“Close the door,” and Abram latched it before sitting down again.
“You have that look, Yuri,” Pavel said.
“What look?”
“The we’re up against the world and no one can help us look,” Abram answered. Yuri nodded and let out a deep sigh.
“And a sigh, that is never a good sign,” Pavel said as he leaned back clasping his hands behin
d his head.
“You two think you have me figured out.”
“Not often, just always,” Abram quipped and Yuri chuckled.
“I have something and I don’t like it,” Yuri said.
“Give it to us straight,” Pavel said.
“It’s not definite and the basis is information from an American newspaper reporter.”
“I’d believe their reporters over ours,” Abram posed and Yuri nodded.
“What’d he say?” Pavel asked as he unclasped his hands and leaned forward.
“He and his partner spied on a Kulagin meeting in Volgograd.”
“Are they insane?” Abram asked.
“They were and his partner was killed. The kid escaped and made it to the American embassy.”
“Endicott told you,” Pavel said.
“Yes.”
“I trust him,” Abram added.
“Me too, that’s why you’re both here.”
“Anything concrete?” Pavel asked.
“There never is; that’s the nature of our business but he gathered from the tone of Kulagin’s speech that he seeks to do something at the summit.”
“The two presidents?”
“It’s possible,” Your replied.
“Assassination?” Abram wondered.
“The kid seemed to suggest kidnapping. Who knows but anything is possible with those crazy Stalinists. They’re beyond fanatics.”
“Are we headed to Kerch? That’s kind of out of our territory,” Pavel asked.
“It is and no we’re not headed to Kerch. Officially we’re not to leave Moscow unless the mayor requests our presence,” Yuri reminded them and they nodded.
“Then what are we going to do?” Abram asked.
“It’s kind of tricky and we have to do it without arousing any suspicions.” Pavel held out both palms asking for an explanation.
“Berenelov is at his villa in the country. He didn’t go with Deniken.”
“You think he’s a target?” Abram asked.
“If Kulagin intends to move against Deniken then Berenelov has to be neutralized,” Yuri said softly.
“I don’t like the way you said neutralized,” Abram said.
“I don’t either so we need to move but we have to do it very cautiously,” Yuri said.
“When?” Pavel asked.
“Tonight.”
“How?” Abram asked.
“I have your instructions written down. We can’t leave Moscow together. We’ll meet up again out of the city and proceed to the target,” Yuri said.
“See you tonight,” Pavel said as he and Abram left the office. When they were gone Yuri cleaned his .38. He preferred it to a larger gun for the simplicity and ease of concealment. He packed a small duffel bag then sat down and wrote a note to his wife explaining why he wouldn’t be coming home again. He gave it to Catherine with instructions to deliver it to his wife if he should be killed. He then told her good-bye and left.
CHAPTER TWO
The White House in Washington D.C. is home to the President and his/her family. It was completed in 1800 and has been the residence of the President from John Adams until today. George Washington selected the site for the White House but never actually lived there. It has undergone many additions and restorations over the years and today it covers 55,000 square feet with 132 rooms including 35 bathrooms, 412 doors, 147 windows, 28 fireplaces, 8 staircases and 3 elevators. It covers 18 acres and is 70 feet high, 170 wide and 85 feet deep. Inside on a daily basis is a flurry of activity as dozens of White House staffers work feverishly for the President. On this day there is rapid movement and a hundred things are being done to prepare for the President’s trip to The Ukraine.
“Ma’am, we have everything you asked for packed and ready to go,” Bonnie Fletcher said out of breath as she spoke with President Lexington in the Oval Office. She’d been on the run since six am making sure everything was perfect for the trip.
“That’s fine, Bonnie, but you need to relax, it’s just a trip abroad. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Ma’am, this is a crucial meeting between Russia and the United States. It is a big deal.”
“If you say so.”
“Ma’am…”
“Bonnie, I get it. It’s important but I’m not one to get flustered over things.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Bonnie was the President’s personal assistant. It was Bonnie who saw that the President was ready for meetings, ready for lunch, ready to meet with congressional people and finally ready for bed. Bonnie’s residence was in the White House. She’d been an aide to the President when she was Governor of Maine. Ellen had brought her along to Washington because quite frankly she’d be lost without Bonnie.
“Madam President, we have a problem,” Kent Bridger said as he stuck his head into the Oval Office. He was the press secretary and was responsible for projecting the right image for the public to see and hear.
“What is it, Kent?” She said not looking up from her desk where she was reading something.
“Senator Miles wants to ride on Air Force One.”
“Well, he can’t. He was told months ago that his place was on the second plane with the baggage.”
“He won’t be happy.”
“He’s never happy, all he does is whine about one thing or another.”
“I’ll tell him, Ma’am.” Kent started to leave.
“Kent, tell him nicely and praise him for his service. He likes to be petted as much as my Boston terrier.” Kent smiled.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Ma’am, can I interrupt?” Appointments secretary Carmen Hernandez asked as she poked her head into the office.
“There’s nothing to interrupt, Carmen, come on in and have a seat.”
“You have a visitor.” Ellen cringed because she thought she knew who it was.
“Who?”
“Valerie Jensen.”
“Oh, God, not again. She does know that this is my office and not hers.”
“I hope so, Ma’am.”
“Send her in,” Ellen said with a sigh.”
“You can see the President now, Madam Speaker.” Valerie Jensen was the Speak of the House and thus had a very powerful position in the government. She projected herself as all powerful and that was her way. She was a self-appointed megalomaniac and didn’t care who knew it.
“Hello, Madam President,” Valerie said as she strutted into the room. She was fifty and had worked her way up to Speaker after twenty-four years in the house. She was ruthless, ambitious, an egomaniac and the wrong person to alienate. Ellen didn’t like her…no one liked her but they respected her power. Ellen, Valerie and Charley Miles were all Republicans but they didn’t see eye to eye on much of anything.
“Come in, Valerie.” There was a professional courtesy that they showed each other but nothing approaching friendship or even mutual respect.
“I read the itinerary.”
“And,” Ellen said as she waited for Valerie’s latest complaint.
“Where am I on the program?”
“An interested visitor.”
“Why am I not giving a speech?”
“Because it’s a meeting between the two chief executives.”
“But surely my position of power in the congress merits some recognition.”
“And we recognize you every day, Valerie, for your service and dedication.”
“Cut the crap, Ellen, we all know how you got here.”
“Yes, we do, Valerie, as you never tire of reminding me and the rest of the country.” Ellen had been the running mate of Amos Clark. He was a Republican Senator from Indiana, a hard-core conservative. He needed a balance and he chose the progressive governor of Maine, Ellen Lexington. They barely saw one another during the campaign as there was a mutual distrust. After the election they saw less of each other. She was invited to one state dinner during the two plus years she was vice-president and she was never in the Oval Office while Amos Clark was President. H
e died of a heart attack after two years and one month in office. Suddenly the one term governor from Maine was President. Not surprisingly, the press dubbed her “Her Accidency.”
“Just reminding you.”
“As you do frequently.”
“Yes, because I think the U.S. should be represented by someone with experience, a track record of success and a series of election victories on their own.”
“I see, well, that’s quite a clever argument but I am the President. However, it happened I am the chief executive and you are not so, no you won’t give a speech,” Ellen pronounced and Valerie stood up fuming.
“You’ll regret this.”
“I have no doubt but the issue is settled. You’ll be glad to know that you can still ride on Air Force One if you like.”
“Good at least there’ll be someone on board who deserves to be there.”
“Good-bye, Valerie.” The Speaker left in a hurry and Ellen sat down at her desk.
“Trent would like a word, Ma’am,” Carmen said. Trent Wilson was the head of the White House Secret Service detail.
“Send him in, Carmen.”
“Ma’am, I don’t like the arrangements at the meeting in Kerch. There are too many people around and we won’t have a large enough presence. I don’t trust your security to foreign protection.”
“We’re limited to the number of secret service people we can bring. That was part of the agreement.”
“I know that Ma’am, but I’m worried. There are renegade elements in Russia and we’re just across the border and to add to it, the feeling in the Eastern Ukraine is very pro-Russian.”
“I’m aware of that but I think it’ll be okay.”
“If you say so, Ma’am, but I’m still worried.”
“We’ll get through it, Trent.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He left but was still unsure.
“Bonnie, am I still on for my appointment with Clarise Wallace this afternoon?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good, I need to speak with someone who has something positive to say…even if they’re wrong.”
“What do you mean wrong?”
“Just kidding.” The President had lunch and waited for Clarise to show up. She was a domestic advisor and did have a Pollyanna view of the world.
“Clarise is here, Ma’am,” Bonnie said.