by L. Todd Wood
“Perhaps we should call the cops and have her confronted? Brought in for questioning in New York?” she added.
“No!” replied Rafe. The answer is not in New York. It is here in Europe. It is somewhere in one of these temples. I can feel it! And Clare is still alive! That I can feel as well. No, we continue on and find out whatever it is that I’m supposed to discover. Then we deal with that when it happens!”
“So you go to Kiev and see what you can find,” added Neal.
“Yes, I go to Kiev.”
“You mean we go to Kiev! I’m going with you. I happen to care about you, you know,” said Cecilia.
“You’re welcome to come. I’m sure your expertise will come in handy at some point. And I like having you around as well.” Plus the sex is literally out of this world..
“Well, now that we have that settled, can we break up this little love fest? I have to get back to work. I’ll be in touch. Take care, Cecilia.” With that Neal left the room, shutting the hotel room door behind him.
"Well isn't he charming?" said Cecilia.
After he left, Rafe went straight to his computer and began typing furiously.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“We’re going to take a train to Kiev. I don’t want to announce to the world we are arriving by buying an airline ticket. There are no visa requirements into Ukraine, so we can just arrive and will be passed through immigration. I’m checking the schedule and routing. We’ll pay in cash at the terminal.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she responded. “Do we get a sleeper car?” She put her arms around him from behind and kissed his neck.
Chapter Eight
The train lumbered on methodically during the dead of night, singing its passengers to sleep with a deep, rumbling lullaby, rocking them gently. Rafe and Cecilia lay naked in bed, the sheets pulled down around their waists and entangled between their legs. The cooling system was not working very well on this leg of the trip, and they were sweating together in the warm night air. The full moon shone through the portal and lit up the compartment of the sleeper car. Cecilia had drifted off to sleep some time before, but Rafe was still fully awake as he held her. Her body felt warm and soft. I could get used to this, he thought. They had grown closer over the last two days, making love intensely and often, and talking late into the evening. Rafe had to admit, It was heavenly, although somewhat overwhelming and maybe even a little bit scary. He couldn't match her power in bed and had never felt anything like it before.
They were starting their third day of the journey. Initially they took a bus from Gibraltar to the nearest train station in Spain. Then there was a two-day patchwork of train rides to finally get to Warsaw, Poland. They had arrived at Centralna Station late in the evening and enjoyed a nice dinner in the center of Warsaw before catching the next train out to Kiev the next morning. Rafe was amazed at how much the former communist country had changed since his last trip there years before. The center of Warsaw was modern and booming and covered with neon lights. Crowds of young people lined the streets late into the night, enjoying the night life, oblivious to the horrors their parents had felt before them under the Iron Curtain. Rafe and Cecilia rented a nice, luxurious apartment nearby and slept till mid-morning, before starting the next leg of their journey.
Now they were on the Ukrainian Express bound for Kiev and would arrive later in the day. It had been a pleasant trip with this beautiful woman by his side, but now Rafe felt the need to deal with the business at hand. His mind moved back to his daughter, and he felt guilty for entertaining the pleasure Cecilia gave him. He sat up in bed. The compartment was steadily, rhythmically moving side to side. There was a romantic component to the motion. I wish I could enjoy this, but I just can’t.
Rafe got up, pulled on some clothes, and exited the sleeper chamber. Cecilia stirred briefly and went back to sleep, pulling the covers over her head. He walked out into the hallway and down the passage to the door to the following cabin, which happened to be a dining car. He winced as the noise of the train wheels clanking on the rails increased when he turned the handle and pulled open the door. It took a great deal of force to get the hatch open, but soon he was safe in the other car. He sat down at empty table. The dining area was free of other passengers save an older woman sitting at the other end alone. Food service had ended some time ago. He opened the window next to him to let some of the night air in and stared at the leafy green hills going by in the darkness. Where are you, my little girl? The train droned on and on towards Kiev and the old Kingdom of Rus’.
Vladimir the Great was the first ruler to unite the various Slavic tribes located in Eastern Europe in the early eleventh century. He ruled from the city of Kiev in what is today Ukraine. He conquered lands from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Once Vladimir had united the Slavic tribes of Kievan Rus', he decided to choose a national religion. He sent out emissaries to the far corners of the earth to learn about the world's different ways of worshipping their gods. This fact finding exercise included Islam, Christianity, Judaism, and the gods of the eastern Mongols. In the end, Vladimir chose to emulate the Orthodox Christianity of the Byzantine Empire. His emissaries reporting that in Constantinople, “We did not know if we were in heaven or on earth, nor such beauty. We know not how to tell of it.” He even married one of their princesses in a first for the Slavic people, who were considered barbarians in Constantinople. The marriage of course took place only after Vladimir converted to Christianity.
The dream of Slavic dominance of Europe however was dashed by the Mongol invasion in the thirteenth century. Kiev was completely destroyed. The seat of Russian power fled to the northern city of Moscow to avoid the barbarian invasions, and the kingdom of Kievan Rus’ was forever gone; however, the Rurik bloodline lived on in the Russian tsars. Ukraine was invaded and conquered over the centuries by the Poles, the Golden Horde, and even the Soviets. Ukraine had only been an independent nation since the fall of the Soviet Union.
Rafe was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder and was jolted out of his slumber. Initially he felt threatened but then realized it was Cecilia gently shaking him. The sun shone through the glass near his face. He had fallen asleep at the dining table.
“Hey stranger, what are you doing here?” she asked caringly. "Why didn't you sleep with me? You know I like that!"
“I couldn’t sleep anywhere.”
“Baby, you need to get your rest; I’ve told you this.”
“Yes I know, but I can’t. Just let me do what I have to do, okay?”
“Hey, I’m on your side. I have an idea. Why don’t we get some coffee and talk about what we are going to do in Kiev? Sound like a plan?”
“Yes, that sounds like a plan.”
Rafe went back to their sleeper compartment to throw some cold water on his face and freshen up. When he returned, Cecilia had ordered fresh espresso and some soup and sandwiches. “Sorry, the menu is pretty limited. I did the best I could.” Rafe was starving and attacked the food.
“Whoa, slow down, cowboy. You are hungry like the wolf.”
Rafe downed some sparkling water and then some more espresso. “Yes, I am.”
“Who do you know in the Ukraine?”
“I know lots of people. But we are not going to talk to them. At least not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think they will be able to help us. Someone wants me to find something. I don’t think I want other people trying to find it as well. If we need to tell people we are here, so be it. But I’m not going to telegraph it all over the country.”
“So, then why don’t you tell me the plan you have in your gorgeous head?” asked Cecilia.
“Okay, I will.” Rafe finished his coffee and then looked at her. “Ah, I feel back among the land of the living. Thank you.” Cecilia just looked at him and said nothing; she waited. “Here is what I am thinking,” Rafe continued. “Let’s start with the icon. The old painters usually came from a monastery or
a village in the Russian bush. My point is they stayed in one place for a long time. In fact, the icons were usually named after them. They were fantastic artists, passing the craft down through the generations.”
“I don’t understand. How does that help us?”
“We find out where this icon was made, and we go there and find out everything we can about the painting, like who was the artist, what was significant about the area, et cetera.”
“What do you think we will find?”
“I have no idea. That’s what’s bothering me. We don’t know what we don’t know. We are coming in blind and whoever wants us there knows that. I don’t like it.”
“So we don’t tell your friends we are here?”
“Well, Neal knows we are here. I can contact him for help if need be. And no, we won’t tell my colleagues in Kiev anything. They have their hands full anyway, and I don’t want the political classes to know we are here. Of course immigration will know soon but I can’t help that.”
“We have six more hours. We also are going to have to be shunted into the gauge-changing shed at Yagodin on the Ukrainian border and jacked up to have our wheels changed from standard European gauge to Russian gauge. The border guards will also be checking our identification during that period. I suggest you try and get some sleep.”
“Okay, that sounds like a good idea. This coffee is already starting to wear off and I'm starting to feel like crap again.”
“Thank you,” Rafe said softly.
“For what?” Cecilia asked as they lay naked together again in the bed.
“For helping me. For loving me. I apologize for not trusting you earlier. It was a mistake. I’m sorry and thank you.”
“Honey, you just need some special attention. It’s okay. You’re driving yourself mad over Clare, and I don’t blame you. I’d probably do the same. I’m just trying to take the edge off a little bit for you. It’s my way of helping. I’m here for you. Just trying to be good to you and return the favor of letting me stay with you for a while.”
“Well, believe it or not, I’d like you to stay with me for a good deal longer. That is, if it’s okay with you?”
“I’m not going anywhere. We have a few more hours to go to until we get to Kiev. Get some sleep. Doctor’s orders.” Rafe closed his eyes.
The noise awoke Rafe first. For a minute he didn’t know where he was. Then he realized the rocking of the train back and forth had stopped. We must be at the border. He reached for Cecilia; she was no longer next to him in bed. The sun was beaming into the cabin. Groggily he sat up after sleeping hard, a deep REM state. “Cece?” he asked. There was no response. Rafe realized something was wrong. He noticed the door to the cabin was ajar and had been broken open; the wood around the doorjamb was splintered. There were signs of a recent struggle; the mirror above the sink was cracked, as if something had slammed against it. Her clothes were strewn on the floor. Rafe was fully awake now. “Cecilia?” he cried out loudly.
Rafe stood up and started throwing on his jeans and a shirt.
“Rafe!” he heard her scream, and then someone put something over her mouth, muffling her shouts for help. Rafe burst from the cabin door in time to see Cecilia being dragged down the far end of the sleeper car hallway towards the door to the next cabin.
“Hey, let her go!” he cried and started after her. Then something hit him in the back of the head, and everything went black. As he fell to the floor, Rafe thought he recognized her assailant. It was the man from the market in Barcelona.
Rafe came to lying again in his bed as the train pulled in to Pasazhyrs'kyi Central Railway Station in the center of Kiev. His head hurt really bad and he didn’t feel like moving. Then he thought of Cecilia and also Clare. I don’t understand what’s going on! I’ve got to figure this out! Get up! Rafe turned to a sitting position and found his clothes and dressed. His vision was slightly impaired from the blow to the head and slowly returned. All of Cecilia’s things had been removed. There was no evidence left that she had ever been with him at all. It wasn’t a dream. My head can attest to that. Going to the authorities would be no use. He was sure of this fact. This is all on you, Rafe, figure it out.
He felt the back of his skull. There was a large, tender, painful lump. I’ve got to get moving. Rafe put all of his clothes in his small backpack that he had brought, freshened up his face and hair, and left the compartment. He looked all around. No one was watching him that he could see. He moved several cars ahead internally on the train before exiting, in case someone was watching his sleeper car. Then he prepared to leave the train with the throngs of people heading out onto the platform in Kiev.
Chapter Nine
Rafe quickly exited as the train doors opened, fighting his way through the people attempting to board at the same time, and tried to blend into the crowd as best he could. That meant not staring at the beautiful, young, Ukrainian women walking by him or gazing at the bustling interior of the train station itself. He just hurried along with the large group of travelers, massing toward the exit.
He had left the sleeper car in the relatively new southern railway terminal. This building connected through an overhead tunnel across the main set of tracks to the old Central Station, built in the early twentieth century. The tunnel was wide and complete with multiple eating and shopping outlets. It seemed to be a gathering place for young Ukrainian nationals. The tables at the coffee houses and restaurants were full and walking to the other side of the tunnel was difficult as the crowd was thick. Young girls in high heels stood talking on their pink iPhones, oblivious to the human activity around them.
The entire complex including the metro and other local train access points was called the Vokzal, after the Russian word of the same name. The derivation of Vokzal is presumed to be from the English Vauxhall Station in the center of London. It is rumored that Tsar Nicholas 1 secretly made trips to London to study the English transportation systems in the nineteenth century and got off the train in London at Vauxhall Station. Assuming Vauxhall meant train station, the word made it back to Russia. A competing theory is the word was derived from the English Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, which were mimicked in Saint Petersburg, Russia as early as the eighteenth century.
He fought the throng of people to make it through the overhead tunnel, and a couple minutes later, the crowd dispersed into the old Central Station interior. The opening was massive as the old building boasted a very high, ornate ceiling. He went down the long, central escalator, iignored the stately, Baroque architecture, and soon was outside the huge main entrance. He headed left toward the Vokzalna metro entrance. The walkway was filled with merchant shops and travelers making their way between the two stations. The thoroughfare was lined with shops and small markets of all kinds, trying to grab the attention of travelers making their way between the two buildings.
The central metro station was built during Soviet times and was reminiscent of the Moscow metro with its decorative accoutrements. As with most Soviet metro stations, the pylons were artistically covered with white marble, shining ceramic tiles, and featured depictions of Soviet heroes and symbols. Chandeliers dangled overhead. The station was neat, clean, beautiful, and safe. His timing was good, as a metro train was just arriving in the direction he wanted to proceed. Rafe boarded the train headed east towards the Dnieper River, which ran through the center of the historic city. The station announcements in Ukrainian reinforced to Rafe that he was back in Kiev.
Ancient, medieval Kiev had been a trading post on the massive Dnieper River for centuries, as it was located on the trade route from Constantinople to Scandinavia. Towards the end of the first millennium, Kiev became a center of Slavic civilization as the various tribes were joined together under one ruler for the first time. The mighty river had always been a focal point of the Slavic trade and civilization. The western bank, or right bank as called by the ancients, consisted of woodland hills, rivers, and other bodies of water, currently used by Ukrainians for recreation. Only in t
he last century did building spread to the eastern bank as the metropolis expanded. The buildings were constructed mainly on artificial sand deposit foundations. Kiev was a large, metropolitan, European city and the home to millions of Ukrainians.
Unfortunately Ukraine had not experienced the economic miracle that Poland and other Eastern European nations enjoyed after the fall of the Soviet Union. Ukraine was still in the grip of the Soviet legacy of corruption. Everyone was paid for anything you wanted to get done. Wealthy oligarchs skimmed billions off the production of the main Ukrainian economic resource, natural gas. This restricted the economy and made life miserable for millions. The drab, dull nature of the city reinforced this reality daily to Kiev's residents.
Rafe exited the subway at Zolati Voroda, or Golden Gate metro Station. The immense gate to the old city greeted him as he exited the subway and set out on foot in his new surroundings. The structure was a recreation of the wooden gate through the stone city walls during the kingdom of Kievan Rus', before the Mongols destroyed Kiev and was a monstrous edifice.
The walk to Saint Volodymyr’s Cathedral was not very long. He found himself in a rather wealthy section of the city, complete with high-end boutiques and plenty of expensive vehicles. Rafe had not fully told the truth to Cecilia. He was of course not going to contact most of his acquaintances in Kiev. However, there was one exception. Bishop Kovolenko was worthy of this exception. He was one of the few people in Ukraine that Rafe trusted and was one of the only ones he could turn to for help. The bishop had been an important source of information for the British on Rafe’s previous trips to Ukraine. He would be sensitive to Rafe’s need for secrecy in his desperate search for his daughter and now Cecilia. Soon Rafe left the sidewalk and was walking through the plaza towards the entrance of the Cathedral; the red and gray mosaic path led the way. Parishioners were slowly walking in and out of the structure, crossing themselves and looking upwards, wondering at it's magnificence.
