The Oracle Code (24 page)

43

Museum of the University of Athens

Plaka, Athens

Hellenic Republic (Greece)

February 20, 2013

It was almost closing time when Lourds and Captain Fitrat and his team finally made it to the museum. At the door, Lourds asked to speak to Dr. Adonis Marias, the president of the museum. He had called earlier, and Marias was expecting him. They stood in the shade of the palm trees out front while the docent went to send word to Marias that his guests had arrived.

The museum had begun life as a large three-story dating back to the Ottoman period, making it easily one of the oldest buildings in Athens. Colloquially, it was known as the House of Kleanthis, named after one of its two previous owners, Stamatios Kleanthis, a famous architect. The other man was Eduard Schaubert, another architect. In 1833, the two had developed the first city plans for a modern Athens. Houseguests, artists, and intellectuals came and went the whole time, and Lourds had sometimes fantasized about what meals at the house must have been like.

Fitrat looked at the museum. “It is a lot smaller than I had imagined.”

“At one time, this was the University of Athens. That lasted for six years, until the university was moved to its present location in 1841.”

The matronly docent Lourds talked to at the door quickly returned. “Professor Lourds? President Marias said to show you right up.”

“I know the way, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Enjoy your visit.”

Fitrat stationed three men outside the building and two more remained with their rented SUVs. Two of the men and Fitrat accompanied Lourds as he led the way into the museum.

***

Dr. Adonis Marias waited for Lourds on the third floor of the building. The room was filled with antiquities from the time of Jason and the Argonauts. One of the
kraters
, large vases used to mix wine and water, depicted images of warriors armed with spears. Lourds had helped validate the
krater
and translated the writing on the bottom. The engraving was simply a prayer to Poseidon, but it named two ships and a captain. Lourds still didn’t know the stories of those ships and that captain. They were just details swallowed up in the inexorable march of history.

Marias was a couple inches taller than Lourds and had a shaved head and a neat, trim goatee that was black as coal. He wore a suit that fit him well, but his jacket hung over one arm. His hazel eyes raked Captain Fitrat and the two soldiers with him.

Marias smiled at Lourds. “Military?” He knew military because he had been a soldier for a time.

He spoke in Greek. Neither Fitrat nor the soldiers knew the language. Lourds nodded. “They’re a personal security detachment. Layla sent them to watch over me.”

“You’re still seeing her?”

“I’d be an idiot not to be.”

“Upon that, we can agree. They speak English?”

“Quite well.”

“Good.” Marias stepped forward, offered his hand to Fitrat, and switched to English. “Dr. Adonis Marias.”

“Captain Jamshid Fitrat, at your service.” Fitrat pointed to the other two men. “Corporals Rahimi and Salih.”

The two young soldiers stepped forward and shook hands with Marias.

Marias turned to Lourds. “You said you had a document you wanted me to look over.”

“I do, but we’re going to need some space to work.”

“I have a rather large office in the back we can use. And some good Turkish coffee. Or wine, if you’re in the mood.”

Lourds smiled. “Coffee. I have missed that the past few days.” He looked at Fitrat. “Nothing against tea, but I have a preference for what I grew up with.”

Fitrat nodded and smiled. “Will there be tea?”

Marias strode across the room, dodging the displays. “Of course there will be tea. And cakes, if you’d like something to nosh on.”

***

General Anton Cherkshan Residence

Patriarshiye Ponds

Moscow, Russian Federation

February 20, 2013

“I have managed to go beyond your father’s computer, Anna. These things you are seeing now, they are from somewhere inside military command. I had to hack through more than a few firewalls to get this far, but I am nothing short of incredible. I have told you this before.”

Anna’s stomach knotted up at Spaso’s revelation. What she had seen so far was astounding. Evidently, the general had worked on the preliminary invasion of the Ukraine from his study, and he had drawn on sources within the military complex to do it.

“None of these files are on your father’s computer. In fact, I do not know if they ever were. I could find nothing of these on his hard drive.”

“Perhaps he used a portable drive.”

“It would not matter. There would still be traces. I would have found them. No, he was very careful about what he was doing there. The path I have found back into the military computers? That came from a program someone put on his computer to spy on him.”

“He was being spied on?” That frightened Anna. It was one thing to imagine the general as an unwavering force, but to know that he was vulnerable to someone outside was upsetting.

“This is Russia. I have told you. Everyone spies on everyone.”

“I do not.”

Spaso tsked. “Even if that were true before today, it is no longer true, is it?”

Silently, Anna admitted that it was not. Her guilt was overwhelming, but her need to know was stronger.

“Anna, I did not mean that. It was a jest. All in fun.”

“I know.”

“What you are doing is very brave. The fact that you are your father’s daughter is even more remarkable. No one I know could do what you are doing.”

“Betraying my father?”

“Do not look at it like that. This thing that is being done, Nevsky’s ‘reunification’ effort, must be stopped. Someone has to reveal all the treacheries the man has committed.”

“But my father—the general—has been the architect of the fall of the Ukraine.”

“He was a man simply doing his job, Anna. You have to understand that.”

“I am trying. But I cannot fathom why he would do this, knowing people were going to die.”

“I suspect he sees himself as saving a great many people. Perhaps he even imagines he is saving you by making the Russian Federation stronger.”

“He is taking away freedoms.”

Spaso was silent for a moment, then his voice got harder. “Do you see him as a monster, Anna? Is he a cold-hearted killer?”

Anna thought back to all the things her brother had showed her in the newspaper, all the horrors her father had seen while fighting the Chechens. She remembered how he had been there for her and how he had complained about her generation not knowing the love of their country the way they should.

“No, he is not a monster.”

“Then remember that, and know, too, that Nevsky has sold your father the same bill of goods that he tries to sell everyone through his television spots, his newspaper interviews, and his blog. Nevsky is in this for power. Your father thinks Nevsky is only trying to turn Russia back to the old way.”

“The kind of Russia where my father was more comfortable.” Anna recalled how many times her father had told her that the “new” Russia wasn’t working, how the people were so much worse off than they had been. “He said he was afraid that he would live to see Russia fall and that he would have to leave my mother, my brother, my niece and my nephew, and me all unprotected.”

“So you see, Anna. You see how Nevsky manipulated your father and placed him in the role of protector.”

“Yes.”

“Your father is blind to what is going on. He thinks only of the good he is doing. You have had arguments with him over the pieces you write in the paper. You have told me about them.”

“I know.”

“Then realize this now.”

Anna struggled to.

“Anna, look at this.” Spaso’s voice had changed, taking on a darker, harder tone.

Blinking back tears, Anna looked at the computer screen. She read the document sitting there. “This is about Greece?”

“Yes. There are several files here, all regarding Greece and ways to undermine the government and force the United States out of the area. There are contacts for terrorist organizations here.”

The pages on the screen flipped back and forth. Anna saw maps, photographs, interviews, blueprints, and other documents that looked like they should have been kept somewhere safe.

Spaso cursed and the open screens on the computer began shutting down. “Whoever was spying on your father’s computer has found me.”

Anna’s stomach sank.

“It was nothing I did. Nothing they could find. This was just bad luck.”

“Can they trace you?”

“Yes, but I’m sending them on a wild goose chase. They will think that a CIA agent hacked into them. They will not track this back to you. Or your father. I promise you this.”

“Should I do anything?”

“No. Let me. You are safe. Everything will be fine.”

“What about the documents you discovered?”

“I downloaded them all.”

“I need them.”

Spaso hesitated. “What are you going to do with them?”

“I am a journalist. I am going to report this.”

“Anna, you do know the kind of danger you will be placing yourself in?”

“The danger is greater when you keep this secret. My knowing it—
our
knowing it—will not matter once everyone knows. Besides, the people out there, the Russian people, need to know what Nevsky is doing.”

The computer screen blanked and went back to the request for the passcode.

Spaso breathed out a sigh of relief. “There. I am finished.”

“And they did not trace you?”

“To Langley, Virginia, where the CIA have their offices, perhaps. But not to here. Not to you. We are safe. For now.”

“But there are a lot of people out there who are not.”

“Anna, please listen to me. If you try to tell the story here, you will be locked up as a traitor to the state. Worst-case scenario, someone will come for you, find you, take you out to the Volga, and tie weights to your hands and feet before dropping you in.”

Anna wanted to make a smart remark about his imagination, but she knew his assessment was not fantasy. That was very probably what would happen.

“Then I will not tell the story in Russia. I will tell it in Greece.”

“How will you get there?”

Anna thought furiously, then she remembered Professor Layla Teneen. “I will go to the Afghanistan Embassy. I may be able to get a ride out of the country as part of a diplomatic flight. Can you get me access to the documents you downloaded?”

“Of course. I will set up a website. When you need them, they will be there. You never have to take possession of them.”

“Thank you, Spaso.”

“Do not thank me, Anna. One way or the other, this secret that you stumbled across is going to change your life forever. Later, when you have time to see your regrets, you might not be so generous with your thank-yous.”

The front door of the house opened.

“I have to go. My mother is home, and I cannot allow her to find me in my father’s office.”

“Go then, and be safe.”

“You, too. Will this number still be good for a while?”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye.” Anna snatched the USB device from her father’s computer, powered it down, and headed for the door. Just as she was about to close it, she noticed the line of new books on her father’s bookshelves where he kept his newest acquisitions. Usually he stored them there until he could get to them, but these had bookmarks and Post-Its all through them.

She scanned the titles, surprised to find that all of them dealt with Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic civilization. She had never seen her father read anything on that subject before. Quickly, she surveyed other titles in the history section of her father’s library. Most of those had to do with military things and histories of Russia.

This was something new.

“Anna?” Her mother was calling from the front of the house. “If you are here, I could use some help with the groceries.”

Anna locked the door before pulling it closed then went to help her mother. “I am coming, Mother.” She just hoped that she could weather dinner with her mother without getting trapped in one lie or another. Her mother always caught her when she tried to lie.

44

General Anton Cherkshan Residence

Patriarshiye Ponds

Moscow, Russian Federation

February 20, 2013

Dinner with her mother reminded Anna of the meals they’d had in her years before going off to university. Her father had usually been home during those years, but sometimes he’d had to stay and work on projects that he couldn’t talk about.

This was like one of those nights. Anna helped her mother in the kitchen, made small talk, and dashed off to make telephone calls that she didn’t want her mother to hear.

The kitchen was smaller than Anna remembered. It seemed like everything had gotten smaller since the last time she had visited. Even her mother seemed smaller.

Katrina Cherkshan was only a couple inches above five feet and always looked tiny next to her husband. Anna’s family on her father’s side talked about Katrina and claimed that she had gypsy blood, like it was some kind of bad thing.

Her mother’s family were smaller and darker than the Cherkshan side, but they didn’t look like the Romani or act like them. They were just small and quiet, like her mother. If there was Romani blood there, it had been generations since the family had wandered and been virtually homeless. Anna’s grandparents on that side had lived in the small house that had been passed down from her great-grandmother.

“Why do you have to make so many phone calls?” Her mother didn’t complain, actually, but she
noticed
things with true passion.

“Because it’s my job.”

“This is for the newspaper?”

“This is for a story I’m working on.” Anna chopped iceberg lettuce and wished for the tenth time that she’d never agreed to dinner. She should have gone to her apartment. Better yet, she should have stayed at the newspaper office.

Then she wouldn’t have known about her father and the planned revolution in Greece.

“What story could be so important that you cannot simply fix a meal and eat it?” Her mother stood at the stove stirring
lapsha
, noodle soup with mushrooms.

The smell was delicious, and despite her confusion and terror, Anna’s stomach growled in anticipation. “The Ukraine was invaded, Mother. Perhaps you heard?”

Her mother shot her a hard glance. “Do not take a tone with me, little princess.” That had been her mother’s nickname for her as a child. Little princess. Because her father had treated her like one.

“I apologize. I am tired. It was a long trip.”

Her mother sighed. “No, it is I who must apologize. Make your phone calls. You have work to do. I know this.” She smiled. “I see you here, I just want my little girl back.”

Anna went to her mother and hugged her. “It is good to be home.”

Her mother held her tightly. “These times are troubled, Anna. Your father’s business worries me. I do not know how he is doing.”

“What do you mean?”

Her mother shrugged. “We talk sometimes. Not much. You know he cannot talk much when he is away from home. The military has too many secrets.”

Anna agreed.

“He would rather talk to me about his feelings and what he thinks when he is home. But I know he is troubled by everything that has happened in the Ukraine. The decisions he has made have not been easy for him.”

“But he made them.”

“No. Not the decision to see reunification for the Ukraine.”

Anna stopped herself short of challenging the term.

“That decision was made by President Nevsky. Your father only figured out the best ways to do this thing. Being your father has never been easy.”

In a little while, the soup was ready. Her mother heated up
pirozhki,
small buns stuffed with meat, rice, and onion, and boiled eggs with dill—which were Anna’s favorite—that she had made earlier in anticipation of the dinner. They sat and ate and pretended nothing was wrong in the world as they made small talk about the neighbors that Anna remembered.

As they were clearing dishes, Layla Teneen called. Anna excused herself and stepped around the corner.

“I have gotten you listed as an Afghani diplomatic courier, which will make your travel easier. It was the best I could do on such short notice.” Layla sounded as tired as Anna felt.

“You’re a miracle worker, Layla. Thank you. How soon can I leave?”

“There is a flight leaving in a couple hours if you want to try for that one. Otherwise, there is another tomorrow afternoon. Your credentials will be waiting for you at the airport.”

“I will take the one tonight.”

“All right, but the flight is a cargo plane. Some of the Afghan museum exhibits there in Moscow are being flown to museums in Athens.”

“That is fine. Do you know where Professor Lourds is?”

“Just that he is in Athens as well.” Layla’s curiosity was piqued. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I have tried his phone several times and he has not answered.”

Layla laughed. “For Thomas, that is not unusual. When he is working, sometimes he forgets to eat. He becomes totally focused.”

Thinking of the diamond engagement ring she’d seen, Anna wondered how that would work out. “It can be awfully hard to live with someone who is so focused.”

“I am afraid I am just as culpable in that. That is why I have a personal assistant to keep me on track.”

Anna laughed. “When I see Professor Lourds, I’ll let him know you’re expecting him to call.”

“No. Not at the moment. I am still putting out fires in my own work. Just tell him I am thinking of him, and when he gets time, he should let me know how he is doing.”

“I will. And thank you.” Anna hung up the phone and went to give her mother the news that she would be leaving, not spending the night as she had thought. After the past few days she’d had, the thought of spending the night in her old bedroom had been appealing.

***

Moscow International Airport

Cargo Area

“This is a ridiculous time of night to be leaving, Anna.” Katrina Cherkshan was clearly not happy with her daughter’s decision. “And to be loaded through the cargo like you are livestock?” She shook her head. “I have a good mind to call your editor and talk to him about the way you are being treated.”

“Mother, this is the first flight out.”

“And why Greece? Why could you not stay in Moscow? You only just got back today.”

“Because I must go where the story takes me, Mother. This is what I do.”

Her mother followed the checkpoint signs and finally arrived at her destination inside the security compound. Russian soldiers stood on duty, their numbers doubled since the “reunification” of the Ukraine had begun.

From what Anna had learned, there were already protests going on inside the city. Most of them were quickly—and harshly—dealt with by military and police forces.

Katrina got out of the car and hugged her daughter goodbye, then held her at arm’s length. She hesitated for a moment, then took a breath. “Be careful, Anna. These are troubled times. Watch your step and return safely to us.”

“I will, Mother.” Anna hugged her mother one last time, then headed for the security gate. When she looked back, her mother was already in the car and driving away.

Steeling herself, ignoring the anxious feeling growing in her stomach, Anna went to retrieve her credentials and check in for her flight.

***

Grand Kremlin Palace

Moscow

Russian Federation

February 21, 2013

Andrew Fremenko hurried through the long halls of the Grand Kremlin Palace to President Nevsky’s suite. Although the Russian presidents usually lived in the Senate Building—called the First Building—not far away, Nevsky had never stayed there. He had chosen the alternate home of the presidents and made no excuse for it.

Fremenko was one of President Nevsky’s personal assistants. More precisely, Fremenko was the president’s spymaster when it came to keeping his eye on everyone that the president wanted watched in his immediate circle.

It was a busy, complicated job. Fremenko had to stay up on all those people, many of whom were spies or in counter-intelligence, without getting caught. He lived every day expecting to catch a bullet from someone on the list.

He knocked on the president’s door, thinking that he was going to wake Nevsky and that could be a painful thing to deal with. But the alternative—not telling the president what he knew until morning—would be worse. That was the only thing that made Fremenko lift his hand and knock again.

“Come in.”

Fremenko waited a beat, just enough time to allow the president’s mistress to clear the room, then opened the door and went inside.

Nevsky stood in the middle of the room in gray pajamas. “What is it?”

Fremenko held up the printouts he’d run off. “Reports, sir. Apparently someone broke into our military databases.”

Nevsky frowned. “Do we know who it was?”

“No, sir. Not yet. The computer security teams are working on it.”

Another frown. Fremenko knew that those teams might not survive the morning. Other people had “vanished” when the president became disenchanted with them.

“Which files were seen?”

“General Cherkshan’s architecture for the Reunification of the Ukraine, sir. And we think they may have gotten into the Greek files as well.”

Nevsky cursed. In all the years that Fremenko had served the man, he had never heard the president lose his temper.

“There is one other thing, sir.”

Nevsky looked at him warily, and Fremenko began to wonder if he was going to get out of the room alive.

“What is it?”

“It is Anna Cherkshan, sir. She just caught a flight out of Moscow with the Afghans.”

Curiosity softened Nevsky’s face. “Where is she off to?”

“I checked the flight manifest, sir. The shipment is from one of the museums. It is taking exhibit pieces back to Athens.”

Nevsky cursed longer this time. When he had finished, he made one request. “Get Colonel Linko for me.”