by Haydn Jones
A flash of light lit the cave for a brief moment as the rocket grenade snaked towards the helicopter.
Tsvetaeva reacted, ‘PULL UP — NOW.’
The pilot pulled the stick and the Mi24 jerked skyward.
The Afghan disappeared into the smoky darkness to reload the launcher as the grenade exploded on the mountain side.
‘It’s one of ours, Commander!’ the pilot shouted.
The commander nodded, ‘I know, it’s an RPG and they’re not heat-seekers they’re just grenades, so they can’t track us. Pull back and I’ll hit them with everything we’ve got.’
Tsvetaeva’s thoughts were broken by the sound of an approaching ambulance siren.
In a gruff, monotone voice, he said to himself:
‘Nobody escapes me, monk. I will get you, even if I have to drag you out of the sewers, screaming. Beauty, like Viktoriya’s, is far too good for you.’
Chapter 32
Professor Shastri was sitting alone in the back of a black, s500 Mercedes, heading for the Kremlin.
Today was the day he would get to see the book. And today was the day the Russians would expert answers from him.
He looked tired from lack of sleep and worry about what was expected of him as a professor of antiquity. But he never expected to be tested like this.
This was something else, this wasn’t just some common or garden Egyptian hieroglyphics, this was different, something never attempted before.
He would take his time and not allow them to rush him. It might take months to understand the book.
If it is the correct scroll? He mused.
It suddenly went dark and the professor could see that the Mercedes had entered what he assumed was an underground parking lot. A large metal door opened in front of them and they drove into what must have been a large elevator. The doors closed behind them and in semi darkness they started to descend.
‘Where are we going?’ Shastri asked, but the driver ignored him.
The elevator eventually stopped, a siren rang out and the doors in front of them opened automatically.
The driver eased the gleaming Mercedes out into a man-made, concrete cavern, lit by countless rows of florescent lights.
In the far left corner some thirty yards away the professor noticed Mr. Volodin, waiting patiently. The Mercedes pulled up next to him and the driver got out and opened the rear door for the professor.
‘Good day, Professor,’ Volodin said, holding out his hand to greet him.
The professor exited the car and reluctantly shook hands with Volodin. ‘Where are we?’ he asked, looking around him.
‘Somewhere safe,’ Volodin answered. ‘Please come with me, Professor.’
Safe from what? Shastri thought.
A small electric train was waiting and Volodin and the professor took seats in the front carriage.
‘The ghost train,’ Shastri commented as they headed off into an illuminated tunnel.
Two minutes later they came to a halt at what looked like a platform of some deserted metro station.
Volodin exited the car and Shastri followed.
Ahead of them the professor could see a security check point and a number of armed guards.
Volodin approached one of the guards and showed him his ID. The guard checked it and waved them through.
The sound of bolts releasing echoed in the still air as the metal gate was unlocked.
Volodin smiled. ‘Follow me please, he said, gesturing to the professor.’
Shastri was tense and his palms were moist as they stepped onto a moving walkway.
‘Almost there now, Professor,’ Volodin said, reassuringly.
Shastri forced a tight-lipped smile as he held onto the moving handrail.
‘Our destination,’ Volodin said, pointing ahead to a white, plastic dome that drew ever closer by the second. They exited the moving walkway and approached the structure. Volodin swiped his ID card in a wall reader and, like a scene from Star Trek, a door slid open with a gentle hiss.
They entered an ante-room and a smartly dressed woman wearing a white blouse and red skirt approached them. A photo ID card on a metal chain hung around her neck.
‘Comrade,’ said Volodin, shaking hands with the woman. She smiled confidently.
She was in her late forties, tall and very attractive. Her raven-black hair hung in curls onto her shoulders and she wore red lipstick that contrasted with her perfect, alabaster complexion. Her large, almond-shaped eyes were dark and mysterious.
‘Comrade Zhukov, this is Professor Shastri — He is here to break the cipher.’
The woman offered her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you Professor — I wish you the best of luck.’
Shastri shook her hand in nervous silence as a bead of perspiration trickled down his cheek.
Volodin enthused. ‘I like to think of Dr. Zhukov as a real-life, female equivalent of Dan Brown’s, Robert Landon. But don’t let her beauty fool you, she is an authority on ancient symbolism and I’m sure she will be an invaluable asset to you, Professor.’
Then why have I never heard of you? The professor pondered…Finally, he allowed himself a weak smile before responding:
‘Let’s just hope I don’t need your assistance,’ he said, coldly, staring into Dr. Zhukov’s eyes.
Equally coldly, she replied, ‘That would be very nice. …Shall we make a start, Professor?’ She gestured to a door behind her and swiped her ID card through the reader. A red neon turned green and the door opened.
Volodin said, ‘This is where I take my leave of you. I’ll meet up with you both later in the day for a debrief.’ As he walked away he called out, ‘Good luck — because I really don’t want to involve Victor Canseliet unless it’s absolutely necessary.’
With Volodin’s words ringing in his ears, Shastri followed Dr. Zhukov into the enigmatic dome.
He knew that his professional reputation was about to be tested to the limit.
What he didn’t know was that his destiny had already been decided.
Chapter 33
‘Things have become a bit more complicated, Alexi,’ Rob said, settling onto the cream sofa. ‘But I still promise to get both of you out of here, safely.’
Alexi frowned. ‘I did exactly as you asked me, Robert… I delivered the book and got the FSB off my back. So why are things suddenly… more complicated?’
Viktoriya arrived with a mug of coffee and offered it to Rob.
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking the mug.
Viktoriya sighed, ‘If anything, it’s me that’s causing the problem now, Robert,’ she said, sitting down next to him. ‘After all the FSB are paying for my education and I’ve gone AWOL, as you call it.’
Rob sipped his coffee. ‘Well, that’s partially true Viktoriya…Unfortunately Bishop Remizov has accused Alexi of stealing precious artifacts from the monastery and reported it to the FSB.’
‘WHAT?’ Alexi exclaimed.
Viktoriya raised her hand to her mouth.
Rob said, ‘they’re afraid.’
Distraught, she asked, ‘afraid of what?’
Rob looked at Alexi.
Alexi nodded and said, ‘It’s okay, Rob,…she knows everything.’
Rob looked at Viktoriya. ‘They’re afraid that Alexi will expose them for what they are.’
Viktoriya began to cry and Alexi moved next to her. ‘It’s okay, love,’ he said as he pulled her close.
Rob placed his coffee mug on the smoked-glass table, stood up and walked pensively towards the portrait of Marilyn Monroe.
Eventually, he turned and said, ‘It means that the FSB are hunting you again. This place is no longer safe; we need to get you out of here.’
Viktoriya sobbed. ‘Nowhere is safe if they’re hunting us.’
Alexi walked over to the piano. ‘What I don't understand, Rob, is how you know all these things?’
*
Commander Tsvetaeva knocked on Olga’s dormitory door.
‘Just a minute!�
� she called out.
When the door opened, Olga was standing there wrapped in a large white bath towel and drying her hair with a small hand towel.
‘Yeah…can I help you?’ she said.
‘I’m looking for your room mate,’ the commander said, coldly.
‘So am I,’ Olga replied and tried to close the door.
Tsvetaeva pushed his way into the room. Olga fell backwards onto the bed.
‘Hey! Who the fuck do you think you are? Get out of my fucking room or I’m calling the warden.’
‘…Where is she… Where’s Viktoriya?’
‘Who the hell are you? I’m calling.…’
‘Sit down!’ The commander flashed his ID badge in front of her face.
‘FSB,’ he said. ‘…Now, I will ask you once again, where is she?’
‘I have no idea where she is,’ Olga said, defiantly.
Tsvetaeva smiled as he eyed Olga from head to foot. He lifted his walking stick and gently flicked a curl of Olga’s damp hair while his gaze settled on her breasts.
Suddenly, she felt vulnerable.
‘When did you see her last?’ he enquired calmly, moving awkwardly to peer out of the window.
‘A few days ago, she replied.’
‘Did she say where she was going?’
Olga reached for her cigarettes and lit one with a trembling hand. ‘…No… she didn’t. What do you want her for anyway? She’s just a student like me.’
The commander turned slowly and walked out of the room.
In the hallway he barked an instruction at two uniformed guards.
‘Take her away!’ he yelled. ‘I have a way of improving her memory.’
Chapter 34
Victor Canseliet had one more full day left in Moscow before his flight back to France.
Over breakfast he’d decided that the morning would be taken up with a visit to the nearby Danilov Monastery, having remembered Rob’s fascinating story about the bells; followed by the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, and then in the afternoon, after a spot of lunch, a visit to the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts.
As he walked through the hotel gardens he reflected on his visit to Moscow. It had been fun but soon it would be just another memory. He pondered Rob’s words:
‘The Russians are going to approach you to decipher the code, which you will agree to do, for a very fat fee, of course.’
Well, I guess you got that one wrong, Rob, he thought, as he neared the monastery with its golden domes gleaming in the morning sunshine.
‘Mr. Canseliet?’ A voice said, from behind him.
Victor stopped and turned in surprise to see a very smartly dressed man wearing a long dark overcoat.
‘Yes, I’m Victor Canseliet.’
‘It is an honor to meet you, sir. My name is Sergey Volodin and I work for the Russian government…We have a proposition for you that I think you will find very attractive indeed. I wonder if you would be good enough to join me for lunch?’
Robert, you’ve done it again, Victor thought.
‘What kind of proposition, Mr. Volodin?’
‘For now, let’s just say it’s a very lucrative one. I will fill you in on the details later. Shall we say midday? I do hope you like caviar?’
Victor smiled. ‘I think you should be aware that I fly back to France tomorrow, Mr. Volodin.’
‘Yes,… I’m aware of that, but I very much doubt that you will want to when you hear what’s on offer. As a matter of fact, Mr.Canseliet, I’m so confident I’ve already arranged for you to stay at the prestigious National Hotel in one of its finest suites for as long as it takes. The hotel is very close to Red Square with wonderful views of the Kremlin. I have also taken the liberty of booking the best seats in the house at the Bolshoi Ballet for tomorrow night’s performance of Swan Lake. I hope you approve? All of your expenses will be taken care of; there is no need to worry about a thing. We have a lot to talk about over lunch, Mr. Canseliet. So, midday it is then. I’ll meet you in the foyer of your hotel.’
Volodin held out his hand and the two men shook hands.
Victor watched the Russian as he strode briskly to a nearby limousine. The chauffeur opened the rear door for him and moments later the sleek black limo vanished into the Moscow traffic.
‘Mon Dieu!’ Victor exclaimed. ‘Paris will just have to wait.’
12.30pm — The National Hotel, Moscow
‘May I call you Victor?’ Volodin asked.
‘Please do.’
‘We believe, Victor, that your unique skills match our requirements perfectly.’
Victor raised his eyebrows. ‘And your requirements are?’
Volodin poured more vodka into his glass. ‘We want you to decipher an ancient book.’
‘My expertise is in esoteric script, not ancient books, Mr. Volodin,’ Victor said.
‘Exactly, Victor; but this book is no ordinary book. Have you ever heard of the Nine Men?’
Victor’s mouth opened. ‘Are you telling me you have one of the nine books?’
Volodin smiled smugly. ‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. We also have an ancient script, recently found in India, that will allow you to decode the book.’
‘Is this the script found by Professor Shastri at the Badami Cave Temples?’ Victor asked.
‘Yes, it is.’ Volodin said, excitedly.
‘Mon Dieu!’ Victor exclaimed; quietly enjoying the performance of his life. ‘So it’s all true, The Nine Men and the nine books really exist!’
‘But we only have one book, Victor.’
‘The ninth book to be precise, the one that’s been missing for centuries; the rules for the evolution of societies and the means for foretelling their futures. Powerful stuff, Mr. Volodin.’
‘Very powerful! Do you happen to know the whereabouts of the other books?’
Victor placed his empty wine glass on the table.
‘Only the Nine Men know that. Legend has it that Book Nine was once owned by Pope Sylvester ll, no less.’
Volodin leaned over and topped up Victor’s wine glass. ‘How’s the wine?’ he enquired.
Victor smiled, ‘It doesn’t get much better than Château Margaux 2011, Mr. Volodin.’
‘I’m a vodka man myself, Victor; good wine is wasted on me, I’m afraid,’ he said, downing his drink and immediately refilling his glass with the best vodka Russia had to offer.
Volodin stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘…We realize it won’t be easy, but we are prepared to reward you handsomely for your efforts.’
Victor sipped his wine and looked out of the hotel window at the Kremlin. ‘You understand that I cannot give you any guarantees?’ he said, pensively. ‘It’s never been done before.’
‘We will pay you fifty-thousand dollars now and a further fifty-thousand if you succeed in decoding the book.’
Stay cool, Victor, stay cool, he thought. They need you… and they know it.
‘If you want Victor Canseliet’s services then I’m afraid you’ll have to double your offer.’
Volodin finished his vodka and theatrically stroked his bearded chin with his thumb and index finger.
‘…Okay…we have a deal, Victor, he said, and offered his hand.’
Victor shook on the deal. ‘Good — When do I start?’
‘First thing in the morning; please be ready at eight o’clock.’ Volodin stood up and walked off, followed by his two bodyguards.
Victor called out. ‘One question, Mr. Volodin. Why didn’t you approach Professor Shastri to decode the book?’
Volodin stopped, turned and looked at Victor.
‘Why talk to the monkey when you can talk to the organ-grinder?’ he replied, before walking out.
Victor allowed himself a wry smile.
An attractive, young waitress approached his table and topped up his wine glass. After she’d walked away, Victor picked up the wine bottle and inspected the label. I wonder just how much they were prepared to pay for my services?
&n
bsp; He swirled the exquisite wine around his glass before sipping it.
‘Layers of complexity and exceptional depth,’ he said to himself.
Chapter 35
Commander Tsvetaeva finished his cigarette and ground the butt into the floor with the sole of his boot.
‘I’m going to report you for this.’ Olga said, trembling uncontrollably. ‘I am not a fucking soldier, I am a university student.’
‘Report me for what?’ the commander asked calmly.
‘TORTURE, you sick fucker.’
‘My methods are a very effective way of getting information from people who are reluctant to give it. As soon as you tell me where your room mate is, you can leave. Or is it that you like being hosed down with ice-cold water?’
Olga slumped against the tiled wall and as her head dropped she began to sob.
Tsvetaeva saw his opportunity and approached her. He jerked her hair back so that she was forced to look at him and smell his rancid breath.
‘Well, where is she?’ he insisted.
‘…Odessa…They’ve gone to Odessa to escape from you; you EVIL piece of SHIT!’
The commander smiled. ‘Where in Odessa?’
‘WHERE? I don’t know WHERE. She told me they had things to sell and Odessa was a good place to get rid of the stuff.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘I don’t know, she didn’t say.’
‘When did they leave?’
‘A few days ago, I think; I can’t be sure.’
‘Let’s hope, for your sake you’re telling me the truth; because if you’re not, I will call on you again — do you understand?’
Olga slid down the wet wall tiles onto the cold floor and vomited over herself.
The commander watched as her naked body started to convulse.
‘Clean yourself up, get dressed and get out of here!’ the commander snarled.
*
The phone on Mr. Volodin’s desk began to ring as he walked into his office. He picked it up, ‘Yes, Anna?’
‘There’s a woman on the line, sir, and she sounds very upset. She refuses to give her name but she says it’s very important that she speaks to you.’
