by L J K Cross
“It has been several years now since Russian President Yeltsin issued a decree that KGB and party archives should be transferred to the repositories of the Russian Federation. The decree placed significant portions of the party archives under the jurisdiction of the newly formed Russian Committee on Archives. Yet despite the KGB no longer being in existence, it appears that strong vested interests are at work to ensure that few files are declassified and that politically sensitive information is not put into the public domain. Even files that are declassified are treated with scepticism. Often more attention is paid to possible political motives in making the files public, as is often the case with the workings of the Kremlin, than the actual content of the files. Nevertheless recently declassified files concerning the KGB past of the Russian billionaire business man, Alexander Sokolenko, makes fascinating, if not unsettling reading.
It has been well documented that prior to acquiring control of his oil company, Vlastneft, Sokolenko was a loyal “apparatchik” (party faithful) working in the KGB. Indeed it is widely credited that such loyalty placed Sokolenko in the unique position to take advantage of the wide scale privatisation of state owned assets that occurred in Russia in the early to mid 1990s. The controversial “loans for share” scheme under which Sokolenko was able to purchase Vlastneft at an extraordinary low price made himself and other Russian business oligarchs the target of much resentment and hostility. It is with this in mind that the recent declassified files should be read. Also the timing of the declassification coincides with a crucial juncture in Vlastneft’s plans to expand into Europe and could be seen as a blatant attempt to discredit Sokolenko.
The principal revelation in the files is that it confirms the KGB’s involvement in the assassination attempt of Pope John Paul II in May 1981. Many have long argued that the assassination attempt originated in Moscow due to the Pope’s vociferous support of Poland’s Solidarity movement, which was viewed by the Kremlin to be a serious threat to Soviet hegemony in Eastern Europe. The files not only confirm KGB involvement but name Sokolenko as the mastermind behind the plot. Handwritten letters by Sokolenko during his time as the head of the KGB station in Dresden incriminate him as the official who coordinated the operation by selecting and giving the orders to the Bulgarian and East German agents. He is further implicated as the official charged with covering up traces of the plot afterwards. He would have been successful and rumours of KGB involvement would have remained as just that, if his letters had been destroyed as he had ordered them to be when he wrote “Unichtozhit” (to be destroyed) at the end of the letters.
Many will find it difficult to associate such criminal activities with the respectable, cultured businessman known throughout the world today. Yet the handwriting has been independently verified to be Sokolenko’s and much of the information detailed in the files has been corroborated by the Soviet defector and former KGB head, Igor Cheryshev.
The files detailing of Sokolenko’s involvement in illegal, state sponsored activities doesn’t end there. Again, during his post in Dresden, Sokolenko is revealed as the principal agent behind the sabotage of the Sandoz agrochemical storehouse in Switzerland in 1986. According to his letters, Sokolenko gave the orders to East German agents to deliberately start a fire at the factory intending to distract world attention from the Chernobyl disaster six months prior. The blaze resulted in the release of toxic agrochemical into the air and tons of pollutants into the Rhine river.”
Steve had read all he needed to read. He couldn’t continue. Who the devil had Amanda got herself involved with? Who the hell could be so cold and ruthless as to authorise an assassination attempt, on someone as pious as the Pope of all people? Could a more sacrilegious act be conceived? And who the hell could be so power crazed as to seek the deliberate and reckless destruction of the environment just to assist their own objectives? Steve jumped up from the computer, bumping into a waitress in his haste and sending her tray of drinks flying. He hardly broke his stride, garbling his apologies over his shoulder. He had to get back to the room to pack. He had to get out of there and he had to find Amanda. At the very least he had to let her know what kind of a fiend she was dealing with. Steve just managed to squeeze into the packed elevator before the doors shut. With his nose pressed up against the cold steel doors and someone’s shopping bag lodged firmly into his lower back, all Steve could think was where in God’s name was Amanda?
****
Amanda was woken by a gentle tapping on the shoulder. She must have drifted off to sleep which was pretty unavoidable in such a spacious and comfortable armchair. Not that there had been much else to distract her during the long flight. Conversation with Alexander had been mute, preferring instead to focus his attention on his laptop. Now, as she woke, he remained in exactly the same position. He hardly seemed to have moved the whole journey. Amanda just hoped that he would be a more genial host once they arrived in St Petersburg. The airhostess who had woken Amanda spoke.
“We are getting ready to land Miss Hearst. If you would be so kind as to fasten your seat belt.” This was the first time during the flight that Amanda had seen her. The tall, willowy figure appeared alongside and then an instant later had faded out of sight; a diaphanous, almost ethereal form carried away on the gentlest of breezes. Amanda was impressed, but not shocked, that Alexander had his staff so highly trained that they silently slipped in and out of his attendance; a legion of loyal minions constantly floating nearby, ready to serve his every need.
Amanda looked across at Alexander and a darkness crossed his face as he looked out of the cabin window. The Jet was descending through a thick layer of cloud which cast the whole cabin into an eerie dullness that seemed to get heavier the further they descended. They dived deep and hard. The plane shook as if it was trying to resist. The painful pressure in Amanda’s ears soared as the plane plummeted. It felt as though they were falling into a dark abyss. Throughout, Alexander continued to stare passively out of the window with barely a trace of emotion on his face. Just the prelude of a curiously cryptic smile started to slice across his face – a subtle, almost imperceptible fine line between delight and distress.
CHAPTER 16
As the hydrofoil raced across the waves that same enigmatic smile continued to play across Alexander’s face. Staring ahead into the gloomy mist that hung over the Neva, it hinted at some perverse hidden pleasure that lay ahead; a future that only Alexander in his omniscience could see. Rather than staring blindly ahead, Amanda swivelled round in her seat to savour the rapidly retreating view of the St Petersburg skyline. The golden dome of St Isaacs was set ablaze, radiant and resplendent, in the rays of the setting sun, showering all around it in its sanctifying light. The thousands of windows of the Winter Palace sparkled. The golden spire of the Peter and Paul Fortress glistened. As Amanda’s eyes fixed on the cross bearing angel flying on top of the Alexander Column which loomed higher than all the others, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving behind civilisation and throwing hope to abandon.
The murkiness was beginning to clear as if under orders from Alexander who was still stood at the helm of his boat, which was bizarrely named “Charon.” He seemed eager to catch those first longed for glimpses of home. The engines were slowing, losing power and Amanda sensed that they were nearing their destination. The hydrofoil coasted close to the shoreline and as it rounded the bend Amanda let out an audible gasp. Words failed. It defied description. It was more majestic than Versailles, more mesmerising than El Dorado, more mythical than Camelot. Even in the dying light of the St Petersburg dusk, its sheer magnitude astounded. Stretching as far as the eye could see in layers of uniform magnificence were gold fountains and eternally flowing waterfalls. Each tier was more impressive than the last and beautifully offset by acres of rolling lush lawn. Out of the corner of her eye Amanda noticed Alexander make a slight motion of the hand as if to conduct a Lilliputian orchestra. On cue, the fountains erupted, ostentatiously jetting their spray high into the night sky
, eager to dazzle and impress. They succeeded as Amanda gazed upon the spectacle, spellbound. She had barely noticed the main residence way off in the distance. From where Amanda stood, along the banks of the river, it appeared as little more than a dolls house; the kind that would have belonged to a Tsarina of old.
Alexander was also enraptured by the view. He reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the spectacle, turning to Amanda and taking her hand in his. A course of electricity ran through her body setting her heart racing.
“Welcome,” he simmered. They were the first words he had spoken to her since they left Las Vegas. Amanda now saw that he had been too consumed with thoughts of returning home to engage in banal banter. Conversation was just a noisy distraction for someone of his overpowering charisma and magnetism. For the first time, Amanda saw a genuine smile cross Alexander’s face. It warmed and invited with its sincerity. The dark depths of his eyes pulled her in. Amanda wasn’t sure how they got from the hydrofoil to the car that had discreetly pulled up. She hadn’t been able to break his gaze, or remove her hand from his. Instead she had relinquished to his guidance. Just to be in such close proximity, to feel the touch of his flesh on hers, disorientated and distracted. Amanda felt utterly powerless as the car door closed behind them and they silently rode off into the dark woods.
As the car drove through the dense wood, Amanda’s feeling of disorientation heightened. She could have sworn that they were driving in circles. Each concentric layer wound deeper into the concentrated darkness of the wood as they snaked towards its epicentre. Peering out into the darkness, Amanda noticed that every now and then they would drive through imposing stone walled gateways with what appeared to be grotesque monstrous statues on guard on either side. As they approached the next gateway Amanda paid closer attention. The statue looked to be a bull’s head on a man’s body; a Minotaur. Carved into the thick stone plinth below was the word violence. Ten minutes later they approached the next statue; a curious winged monster with traits of a human, a beast and a reptile. Again there was an inscription in the stone below – Fraud.
Amanda found the statues and their inscriptions perplexing. She may even have found them frightening if she hadn’t caught sight of light, a roaring golden fire of light, bursting through the branches of the trees. The house struck Amanda as looking like the most lavish wedding cake she had ever seen with its ornate edging and columns, supporting tier upon golden tier. Palace, rather than house, seemed a much more apt description. The car swept to a stop in front of the imposing staircase and as Amanda stepped from the car she was momentarily beaten back by the searing heat of a thousand flames licking at her face. Lining the sides of the staircase and stretching along the entire facade of the building were huge golden torches burning fierce against the night sky. It was an imposing sight. A fortress of fire designed to keep out unwanted elements. Yet as she ran the flaming gauntlet under Alexander’s protective shield the thought never occurred to Amanda that the blazing wall might be to ensure that once within its confines you were unable to leave.
Stepping into the vast entrance hall, Amanda felt its cool interior to be a welcome relief to the harsh heat outside. Indeed the chill wind that swept through as the front doors slammed shut behind them made the temperature plummet to below freezing. If any of the candles in the hall had been lit, the icy wind would have extinguished them. Instead the only movement was of the dusty grey sheets draped eerily over statues and furniture – a welcoming committee of ghouls. Looking around her, it struck Amanda that these soulless spectres were the closest sign to life that this godforsaken place had seen in a long time. A combination of growing alarm and dropping temperature caused Amanda to shudder. A reassuring squeeze of the hand and a resolute look from Alexander was all it took for Amanda to restore her composure. He instinctively seemed to know what she was thinking.
“You must excuse the state of the place,” apologised Alexander unconvincingly. “As you can see I have not been back here in such a long time.” A knowing look passed between Alexander and Koroviev, a sort of surreptitious, private joke.
“You must be tired after the long journey. I’m sure you need some time to settle in and freshen up.” From Alexander’s ambiguous tone Amanda couldn’t be sure if he was asking her a question or giving her an order. Either way he gave her no time to reply.
“I’ll ask for dinner to be ready in an hours time but in the mean time Koroviev will show you to your rooms. Till then.” With a theatrical sweeping bow, Alexander leant forward and kissed her hand. Koroviev wasn’t quite so gracious. He merely yanked the handle of Amanda’s valise from her hand, grunted and headed towards one of the labyrinth of corridors leading from the hall. Unsure whether to follow she looked to Alexander but with the blink of an eye he had disappeared like just another ghostly apparition in that haunted hall. Amanda hastily retreated after Koroviev eager not to be left alone in that lifeless crypt. Koroviev spirited on ahead. Every time Amanda thought she had almost caught up he disappeared around yet another corner as they twisted and turned through the maze of mirrored corridors that seemingly stretched on for infinity. Amanda couldn’t imagine ever being able to find her way back out. In her haste she had paid little attention to the circuitous route or her surroundings. It felt like she was on the world’s fastest tour through a dusty, defunct museum.
Koroviev slowed as they reached a more modern part of the house. It wasn’t quite so grey and dusty here, not quite so antiquated and old fashioned. It was a little less soulless. At the far end of the corridor he stopped abruptly outside a set of heavy double doors. Amanda assumed that her rooms were behind these doors and was anxious to see the luxurious lodgings she imagined lay waiting for her on the other side. With growing impatience she waited as Koroviev fumbled to find the right key amongst the multitude he had hung from his belt. A jailer in the Bastille wouldn’t have needed as many. The heavy lock resisted as if decrepit with age. The huge doors at first refused to yield to Koroviev’s forceful shove but as he stepped aside and ushered Amanda in, she felt like she was stepping into Shangri la.
The room was bursting with ornate arrangements of white lilies. Their intoxicating aroma filled Amanda’s nostrils, making her feel slightly delirious. Amanda gasped at the exotic elegance of the room and turned to share her elation with Koroviev but the morbid expression that he permanently wore killed her enthusiasm dead. He seemed incapable of emotion and any sign of happiness seemed to repulse him.
“I return in one hour,” he stated and shut off any further discussion by closing the doors firmly behind him. Amanda heard the doors lock but was too distracted by her new surroundings to give it much thought. The sound of gently cascading water drew her attention to a delicate waterfall trickling down the far wall; a perfect finishing touch to this garden of Eden. The entire lounge area was white making it feel even more spacious and minimalist than it already was. The thought struck Amanda that the room was devoid of any gadgets until she remembered that Koroviev had used a control panel just inside the door to turn on the lights. Amanda saw that from here she could control the lights, the TV, music, the heating, the blinds. Yes the blinds, thought Amanda not being able to resist the temptation to see what lay on the other side of the opaque blinds that stretched the entire length of the room. They silently slid apart and as they opened further and further, so did Amanda’s mouth. The nighttime view of the fountains, lit up in all their theatrical glory, with the twinkling lights of St Petersburg from across the Neva providing a most dramatic backdrop was breathtaking. Amanda didn’t even look to be breathing she was stood there so still for so long.
When Amanda was finally able to divert her gaze from such an unsurpassable panorama she went off to explore the rest of the rooms. Climbing the glass spiral staircase that seemed to float in mid air, Amanda found herself in a bedroom befitting the harem of an Ottoman Sultan. With all its deep red and rich golds, the room felt heavy and sultry. The only light came from lanterns set in alcoves deep within the recesses of t
he wall. The deliciously rich darkness invited her to curl up on the cushion-strewn bed and allow the fatigues of travel to be erased. Looking down on the plush comfort of the cushions Amanda saw the note with her name written in that instantly recognisable spidery scrawl.
“I hope your new surroundings are to your liking and that you will be most comfortable and settled in them. I look forward to meeting you for dinner at 9pm sharp. As you might be pressed for time, I have taken the liberty of selecting a dress for you to wear. You will find it in your closet. It would please me greatly if you wore it, as I know the green will match your eyes perfectly. Alexander.”
Amanda dropped the note as if afraid it would burst into flames upon reading. How had Alexander had time to place the note on her bed when they had both only just arrived back? It was as disconcerting as him picking out clothes for her to wear was impertinent. How did he even know what size she was when Amanda wasn’t too sure herself? But Amanda’s main concern was finding this closet he had mentioned. If the rest of the apartment was anything to go by, Amanda couldn’t wait to see it.
She didn’t have to go far, just the next room, or the next two rooms to be more precise. The room that opened off to the right was wall to wall mahogany doors that concealed a treasure trove of the most exquisite outfits Amanda had ever set her eyes on. The room to the left was a kaleidoscope of mirrors so that Amanda could inspect herself from every angle and in the centre, hung on a mannequin, was the dress that Alexander had chosen. His tastes surpassed Amanda’s wildest imaginings. The elegantly simple lines of the dress were reflected in the mirage of mirrors: endless waves of ocean green overlaid with the finest sparkling diamonds. As Amanda removed the dress from the mannequin, its delicate fabric seemed to evaporate upon her touch. It seemed almost too delicate, too expensive to wear but not quite. Amanda couldn’t wait to see how she looked in it. She could already feel herself getting accustomed to such finer things in life.
