"Macedonia is an elected democracy with a rule of law," Selena said. "Doesn't that count for something? Don't you think the government could just observe and deal with whatever is said politically?"
"Just because they have elections here doesn't make it a democracy. That's what these protests are about. Your vote doesn't count for a lot when everyone you vote for is corrupt. In the end, things reach a point where revolution is the only answer."
"It doesn't have to be a violent revolution."
"Ideally, no. But unless Mitreski is responsive to the people demanding change there won't be any alternative. Things have gone too far here."
A wave of fatigue hit him. He yawned.
"The jet lag is settling in," Nick said. "Let's get Ronnie and Lamont and go downstairs for something to eat. Then I just want to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."
CHAPTER 6
The new Russia was not so different from the old. Elevation to a position of power brought increased risks as well as rewards. The higher one rose, the farther one had to fall. As First Deputy Director of SVR, Alexei was one spot away from the top job. Some would argue that the Director was the most powerful man in Russia after the president. Alexei Vysotsky looked around his new office on the executive fourth floor of SVR Headquarters in Yasenevo and reflected on Vladimir Orlov's unspoken reasons for his sudden promotion.
It could be the old Russian trick of playing subordinates against one another. Alexei wasn't sure why Orlov wanted him to go after Vishinski. There could be many reasons. When the center of power shifted in Moscow it was always a time of paranoia. Even Orlov was not immune.
Perhaps Vishinski knows something he shouldn't, Alexei thought, something that could be a problem for our new leader.
Whatever the reason, his future depended on finding a way to remove Vishinski. Orlov had lifted Alexei up and he could just as easily knock him down. The sooner he found something the better, but he needed to be careful. Boris Vishinski was no fool. He was a dangerous opponent, unhappy that Alexei had been promoted without consulting him, envious of Orlov's sign of high favor. He would look for any opportunity to thwart his new second in command. If Vishinski found out that Alexei was investigating him there would be serious trouble.
Vysotsky sat behind a scarred wooden desk that had once belonged to Lavrenti Beria, the ruthless head of Stalin's secret police. The desk was a symbol that did not go unnoticed by those who understood. Alexei had ordered it moved to his new office. Now he opened the bottom left drawer and took out a bottle of Moskovskaya vodka, with its green label picturing one of Stalin's wedding cake buildings. He took a glass from the drawer and filled it, replaced the bottle and closed the drawer. He was about to review the latest reports from Macedonia when the intercom on his desk signaled. Alexei depressed a button.
"Yes."
The arrogant voice of Vishinski's aide came through the speaker.
"General, the Director wants you in his office immediately."
When your boss is gone I will enjoy seeing you squirm, Alexei thought.
"Tell the Director I will be there in five minutes."
"Immediately."
"Five minutes." Alexei clicked off the intercom.
Mudak, he thought,asshole. Pereyti yebat' sebya.
He downed the rest of the vodka, got up and walked to the other end of the corridor and Vishinski's office.
The aide sat behind a desk in the outer office. He gave Vysotsky an unfriendly look. Alexei ignored him, knocked on the open door and went into the director's office.
Boris Vishinski was a squat bear of a man. He was reading something and looked up as Alexei came in. He gestured at a chair in front of his desk.
"Sit, General."
He went back to reading. Vysotsky gave no outward sign of his annoyance as he waited. He was going to enjoy Vishinki's fall.
After several minutes Vishinski looked up again. He tapped the papers in front of him. "This is the latest report from Skopje. There is considerable unrest. It's possible that Mitreski's government will be unseated if we don't do something about the demonstrations. Do you agree?"
"Yes, Director, I do." Alexei's voice was pleasant, agreeable, as if to say No problem here. Whatever you think.
"I am glad to hear it. The leader of the 11 October movement has scheduled a rally tomorrow to stir up trouble. I have received instructions from the highest level to prevent further provocations by whatever means necessary. I want you to take care of this. Assign someone to rid us of this troublemaker."
"Extreme termination?"
"Yes. There must be no indication of our involvement."
"I can think of someone who would be perfect for this," Vysotsky said.
Vishinski tapped his fingers on his desk and looked at Alexei.
"I know about your involvement with Gorovsky's sudden heart attack."
Alexei said nothing.
"You may be in Orlov's favor but remember that you work for me. You will carry out any orders I give you. The consequences of not doing so would be unpleasant."
The threat, Alexei thought. Always a threat. Nothing ever changes.
"Of course, Director." Time to throw a little oil on the water. "I know my place. My promotion was as much a surprise to me as to you. I will do my best to support you and the aims of our service. You may count on me."
Vishinski grunted. "Very well. Keep me informed of progress in Macedonia."
It was a dismissal. On the way out Vysotsky caught a whiff of the aide's cheap cologne. It gave him an idea of how to trap Vishinski. He filed it away for later consideration.
Alexei knew who would be perfect for the assignment in Skopje. When he got back to his office he activated the intercom.
"Yes, sir."
"Get Valentina Antipov in here. Now."
CHAPTER 7
Valentina Antipov was working out in the gym and thinking about Alexei Vysotsky. The general was the closest thing to a father Valentina had ever known. That didn't mean she confused her feelings about him with a normal family relationship, whatever that was. It was more like a relationship between a stern taskmaster and a brilliant student. Valentina's feelings toward Vysotsky were a bitter stew of love and resentment, seasoned with grudging admiration.
Recently the relationship had become more complicated. She'd discovered that Vysotsky had murdered her father.
Her mother, Sofia, had been an officer in the KGB. Valentina had never known her father. She hadn't even known who her father was until she discovered it by accident. The information was on the computer in Vysotsky's office.
The details in the file had shocked her.
Her father had been a spy for the Americans, a CIA agent stationed in West Germany in the days of the Cold War, when divided Germany was a hotbed of espionage. Valentina's mother had seduced him as part of an assignment to compromise him. But then the relationship had gone beyond two spies trying to manipulate each other. Sofia had gotten pregnant. She'd refused to abort the child and her handlers had called her back to Moscow. Her CIA lover had been reprimanded and sent home to his American family.
Valentina's father was marked for termination. Alexei Vysotsky had carried out the sanction. Her father, his American wife and his son had died in the crash. There was a daughter. She hadn't been in the car.