“Mr. McCarthy, hello, I’m Landon Endicott, Ambassador to the Russian Federation.”
“Hello, sir.” They shook hands and the Ambassador offered a chair at a long wooden table and they sat. Baylor sat at the other end.
“Now, what is this matter of urgency?” Chip took a deep breath and looked at Harold Baylor who nodded for him to proceed.
“Okay, here goes. My friend and I, Ronnie Stemweiss was his name.”
“Was?”
“He was killed two nights a go.”
“Where and how?”
“In Volgograd by Kulagin’s men.” Endicott looked at Baylor. They were well aware of Andrei Kulagin and his activities.
“Why?”
“We were reporters here to do a story on the Stalinists.”
“What is your paper?” Chip chuckled.
“It’s a four-page weekly. It’s a paper in name only. The editor, if you can call him that, cashed in a college bond to finance our trip over here from the states. So, you can see it was a shoestring operation but Ronnie was a serious journalist with a degree from Ohio State. For me it was just a lark until something real came along. He said we had to get close to Kulagin and we got too close. We were inside the building in Volgograd.” At this Endicott sat up with wide-eyes and looked again at Baylor.
“What did you hear?”
“Something we weren’t supposed to I’m sure. I think they’re planning something big for the meeting between Deniken and President Lexington. He mentioned capturing the two leaders.” Endicott and Baylor looked at one another with concern.
“What else?” Endicott asked.
“I don’t know but this Kulagin is a fanatic, he had my friend killed and would’ve killed me but I got away.”
“That’s all the details you have?”
“Yes, I’m short on concrete evidence but his attitudes and hatred for the present Russian Government was what scared me. He reminds me of the kamikazes in World War II in the Pacific.”
“That’s strong language.”
“He was talking about restoring the old Soviet Union.” Endicott thought for a moment then stood up.
“Thank you, Mr. McCarthy for this information.”
“Are you going to contact the President?”
“I can’t discuss that with you.”
“Of course, I’m sorry but this business has me jumpy.”
“That’s alright, I wish everyone was a diligent as you are.”
“I have a request.”
“Yes,” Endicott said.
“Ronnie had all of our money and airline tickets home. I don’t have a place to stay or any money for food.”
“You can stay here; we have plenty of room and you’ll be fed. We’ll work on getting you passage back home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador.”
“You’re welcome and we’ll see to your needs.” He was given a room on an upper floor and food was brought up to him. He slept in a bed and didn’t think about being killed, at least not yet.
“What do you make of this business, Mr. Ambassador?” Harold asked as the two men walked into Endicott’s office.
“I’m not sure but I don’t like it.” They discussed what Chip had told them for a few minutes.
“Are you going to call Washington?” Landon picked up the phone then stopped and thought for a moment.
“No, I want to see Yuri first.”
“Petrovsky?”
“Yes, the more I get to know him the more I trust him.”
“Shouldn’t you call the local authorities?”
“They can’t be trusted; I mean as a group they’re fine but there are Stalinists everywhere. Including in their ranks. Call Yuri and get him over here as quick as you can.” Yuri Petrovsky was a colonel in the local Moscow militia. The militia was formed decades ago, ostensibly to protect the mayor of Moscow. There was actually, little need for that but the Russian government was in love with any law enforcement group. The militia in addition to providing security for the mayor, on a ceremonial level, acted as an information clearing house. Landon had met Yuri at an embassy soiree a year ago and they’d struck up a friendship. They had lunch every other week or so and kept in contact through email. They knew their emails were monitored so they spoke in vagaries as a sort of code. Yuri was concerned about the Stalinist movement as was Landon and they shared what they learned.
“I’ll call him.”
“No, you know where his office is. Go there and tell him to meet me at our usual location in thirty minutes. Harold nodded and left. Landon changed into a worker’s uniform and slipped out the back way of the embassy. There was always some kind of a truck delivering things and there were workers out there nearly every day. He blended in then slipped away. Harold delivered the message to Yuri who thanked him. After Harold was gone Yuri changed into a sweat suit, baseball cap and left by the back door as a jogger. A few minutes later he entered a small cafe located a block from the Kremlin. He sat with Landon who had ordered tea for them. They shook then both instinctively looked out the window at the seat of Russian government. The Kremlin dates back to the Thirteenth Century and has undergone several changes, re-buildings and renovations. It became a walled fortress inside the city and was home to the Tsars and the Soviet government in the past. Today it is the residence of the Russian President. It was a hiding in plain sight strategy as they both figured no one would suspect a meeting of international intrigue in view of the Kremlin.
“Welcome my Russian friend,” Landon said as Yuri sat down.
“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?”