‘On the way home, perhaps,’ said Natasha, grinning.
‘In eight years’ time, you mean,’ said Charlie.
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ said Sasha. ‘If I become president, we’ll all go on holiday to Amsterdam, when we can do the Van Gogh museum as well as the Rijks.’
‘Russian presidents don’t go on holiday,’ said Elena. ‘Because if they did, when they returned, they’d find that someone else was sitting behind their desk, and they’d been left in the out-tray.’
Sasha laughed. ‘I think you’ll find that’s all changed, Mama.’
‘I wouldn’t count on that, while your old friend Vladimir is still around.’
‘How’s Elena feeling?’ asked Anna when Alex returned to his seat.
‘She wishes she’d gone back to Saint Petersburg years ago, and thanked Kolya properly for risking his life to help us escape.’
‘She invited him to visit Boston several times,’ Anna reminded him, ‘but he never took up the offer.’
‘I suspect Polyakov made sure he couldn’t get a visa,’ said Alex. ‘Elena’s always said she would happily have gone home to attend that man’s funeral.’
‘After all these years, she still thinks of Saint Petersburg as home,’ said Anna. ‘Do you feel the same way?’
Alex didn’t reply.
‘Please fasten your seat belts,’ said the captain, ‘we’ll be landing in Amsterdam in about twenty minutes.’
‘What a pity we don’t have enough time to visit the Rijksmuseum,’ said Anna as the plane began its descent through the clouds.
‘The last time we did something like that,’ said Alex, ‘was after we flew back from Davos and visited the Tate.’
‘That was before Davos, not after,’ Anna reminded him. ‘My abiding memory of that visit is you lying in the hotel bath rehearsing your speech.’
‘When I dropped the script in the water and you had to retype it.’
‘And you fell asleep,’ teased Anna, ‘while I carried on typing.’
‘Seems a fair division of labour to me,’ said Alex.
‘So what are we expected to do now, oh master,’ said Anna as the plane touched down. ‘Check out the airport pizzeria and see what our competitors have to offer?’
‘No, I’ve already discovered there’s nothing to rival Elena’s in Amsterdam. However, when we get off the plane there’ll be a car waiting to take us to the Rijks and then on to the Van Gogh museum. But we can only spend an hour in each as we can’t risk missing our take-off slot.’
Anna threw her arms around him. ‘Thank you, darling, two of Mr Rosenthal’s must-see-before-you-die galleries.’
‘I wasn’t planning on dying for some time,’ said Alex, as the plane taxied to a halt beside a waiting limousine.
Sasha and his family boarded Aeroflot flight 109 to Saint Petersburg just after midday. The captain came out of the cockpit to welcome them.
‘I just wanted to say what an honour it is to have you on board, Mr Karpenko, and I, along with my crew, would like to wish you luck at the election. I will certainly be voting for you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Sasha, as an attentive stewardess showed them to their seats and offered them all a drink. Even Elena was impressed.
The aircraft took off at 12.21, and while the rest of the family dozed, Sasha went over the speech he would deliver on arrival at the airport. He also needed to prepare a eulogy for his uncle’s funeral, but that would have to wait until they checked into their hotel.
‘Let me begin by thanking you all for this overwhelming welcome...’ Sasha leant back in his seat and wondered what Nemtsov had meant by a large turnout. He looked back down at his notes.
‘I may have been away for some time, but my heart has always...’
Alex and his family were driven back to the airport just after 11.30 in the morning, having visited both the Rijks and the Van Gogh museums.
‘The Night Watch and the Sunflowers in under two hours,’ said Anna, as she began looking through all the postcards she’d bought.
Captain Fullerton had secured a take-off slot that would allow them to land in Saint Petersburg around five-thirty that afternoon local time. He was relieved to see Mr Karpenko’s limousine driving through the security gate with a few minutes to spare.
Once the family were safely on board, the captain taxied slowly out to the east runway, where he came to a halt and waited for an Aeroflot flight ahead of him to depart, before air traffic control gave him clearance for take-off.
Book Seven
46
Alexander
En route to Saint Petersburg
They were about 100 kilometres from their destination when the plane began to shudder. Only a little to begin with, and then more violently. At first Alexander assumed it was no more than heavy turbulence, but when he looked out of the cabin window he could see they were losing altitude fairly rapidly. He turned to check on how the rest of his family were coping, to find they were all fast asleep, seemingly oblivious to any problem. He would have gone up front to speak to the captain, but just clung on to his armrest and prayed.
‘Mayday, mayday, mayday. Alpha Foxtrot four zero nine. Number two engine failure, unable to maintain altitude, descending to three thousand metres, request radar vectors to Pulkovo.’
‘Roger, Alpha Foxtrot four zero nine. Make your heading three three zero degrees, the airfield is six zero kilometres ahead, runway ten left is being cleared for landing, three thousand metres available. Will you require emergency services?’
‘Stand by. I am unable to maintain heading or altitude. I can see a range of hills ahead of me.’
‘You’re just about forty-two kilometres away. You are cleared to land runway ten left. Surface wind easterly at five metres per second.’
‘Four zero nine, number one engine failure,’ said the captain, trying not to sound desperate. ‘Unable to reignite either engine. I am now gliding.’
‘You’re now thirty kilometres from the field. Once you’ve cleared those hills, there’s nothing but flat grassland ahead of you. Emergency services are on standby.’
‘Roger. I can see a gap in the hills. If I can’t reach the runway, I’ll make an emergency landing.’ He pressed a button to lower the landing gear, but the wheels didn’t respond. He hit the button again, but they remained stubbornly in place. He flicked another switch as the plane continued to descend.
‘Attention, this is the captain speaking. We are about to make an emergency landing. Fasten your seat belts and assume the brace position now.’
Alexander turned to look at his family, and felt guilty that he’d allowed his ambition to override their safety. But even he hadn’t realized just how far Vladimir would go to ensure he had no serious rivals for the presidency.
The plane was now spinning out of control, down, down, down, in ever decreasing circles, until it finally smashed into the side of the hill, and burst into flames, killing the crew and all its passengers.
An elite team of Russian paratroopers were on the scene within minutes, but then they’d been on standby for several hours. Once they had located the black box, they disappeared back into the forest.
Another aircraft continued on its flight to Saint Petersburg, unaware of the tragedy.
When the plane touched down at Pulkovo airport, Alexander peered out of the cabin window to see acres of flat grassland. In the distance, tall grey concrete blocks dominated the skyline.
The plane swung round and came to a halt in front of the terminal, but it wasn’t until the engines had been turned off that he heard the chanting, ‘Kar-pen-ko! Kar-pen-ko! Kar-pen-ko!’