"Colonel Moshenko," a soft voice said.
Moshenko looked at a tall, young woman, wearing the Russian winter uniform of a jacket and slacks, both dull green in color with red epaulettes. Her light brown hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her cap was tucked under her arm.
Moshenko wasn't taking any chances with Steiner. He moved toward the German, grabbing hold of his arm with bone-crushing strength. Steiner winced, but quickly regained control of himself.
"And you are?" Moshenko asked of the woman.
"Lieutenant Natasha Ostrova," she replied, coming to attention momentarily, showing her respect to the KGB officer.
Moshenko rolled the name around in his mind. Is it possible? he thought in surprise. Then he remembered Grant's request. He said one word to her: "Black?"
She hesitated briefly then nodded her confirmation. Here, standing before them, was Natasha Ostrova, aka Greta Verner. She shifted her eyes to the East German. "Herr Steiner knows me personally, don't you, Klaus?"
Several Russian officers started making their way toward them. "I think we should find a place to talk. Come with me," Moshenko said, then as he squeezed Steiner’s arm, he added, "I don't have to remind you that you are not among friends. No one can, or will help you, for that matter. Now, let's go."
As they were leaving the room, Natasha gave one last glance around, her eyes making contact briefly with a silver-haired man of medium height, standing behind the head table. He and the two men he was with were dressed in plain, dark suits. He continued his conversation and occasionally sipped his vodka. Until Natasha disappeared behind the door, his dark, solemn eyes never left her, except for a quick glance at the two men leaving with her — one he knew to be Colonel Grigori Moshenko, KGB.
Passing several small groups still lingering along the balcony, Moshenko stayed just off Steiner's left side, Natasha to his right. They descended the staircase, and once on the first floor, Moshenko pushed Steiner through one of the archways then followed the passageway toward the rear wall. Natasha took the lead. She stepped close to the wall under the stairs where the light had diminished somewhat. After checking that no one was watching, she pressed a narrow, half inch wide button concealed beneath the molding. As the panel swung inward, a musty dampness escaped into the air.
Moshenko gave Steiner a rough shove, then immediately drew his Makarov. The East German nearly lost his balance, falling against the passage wall. Immediately, Natasha closed the panel then followed the two men further into the secret passageway, checking her watch as she did so.
Outside the building, Alexei Stoyakova waited for Major Boris Zuyeva to open the door for him then they proceeded into the lobby. He paused by the stairs, looking up toward the balcony. The last few stragglers were entering the meeting hall. Keeping his eyes focused overhead, he removed his leather gloves, put them in his coat pocket then removed his coat, handing it to Zuyeva. He put one foot on the bottom step, taking another look outside. "It appears all the participants are inside, Major." Zuyeva nodded, and followed Stoyakova to the conference.
Overhead, single fluorescent lights, spaced thirty feet apart on the concave ceiling, illuminated the narrow passageway. Natasha stepped closer to Moshenko as he stopped near a small alcove that housed electrical boxes. She removed a Makarov from her side holster.
Moshenko grabbed Steiner's shoulder and spun him around, slamming him face first against the wall. After a quick pat-down, he pulled the Walther from Steiner's back waistband, then slipped it into his own pocket before jerking Steiner back around. He shoved the East German against the wall, pressing a forearm across the man's throat. Reaching inside Steiner's jacket, he felt the case, withdrew it then stepped back before opening it. His eyes settled on two glass vials surrounded by cotton, each filled with a clear liquid. The hard case snapped shut inside Moshenko's broad hand. "You'll no longer have any use for these," he said, holding the case in front of Steiner's face a moment before sliding it into his own jacket pocket.
Steiner fixed an angry stare on Natasha. "You bitch! I should have taken care of you myself."
"We have to go," Moshenko said, while motioning with his free hand, indicating straight ahead.
The sound of their footsteps reverberated in the tunnel as they started down a steep incline. It was one more level that had been built below the earth as an extra measurement of safety.
Steiner seemed more interested in Natasha than the drug or his own fate, and he asked over his shoulder, "And what about your bastard kids?"
"My children are probably safe by now."
Moshenko wondered if he should tell her that her children were safe and with Lampson? She was an intelligent Russian officer and would more than likely make the connection between him and the Americans. He decided to keep the information from her.
Another passageway, feeding in from the Palace of Congresses, joined up with theirs from the left. They kept walking. Moshenko pictured the grounds above, tracking their route. They should be under St. Vladimir Hall. The building was one quarter of the way to Spasskaya Tower.
"And what about Brennar?" Steiner said, as he turned his head slightly, trying to see the woman he knew as Greta. "Don't you know he's a goddamn American?"
"Yes, I know," she answered quietly.
"And you have two bastard children fathered by an American spy!" He laughed a low guttural laugh that was short lived. He'd barely spit the words out, when Natasha swung her arm, delivering a blow to the side of his head with her pistol. He stumbled then fell to his knees.
She stood over him while he wiped blood from a cut near his temple. Her words and behavior reflected a person who’d been consumed by hate. "You're the bastard, Klaus! They're not Eric's children! They're yours! Unless you've forgotten, and I doubt you have, you raped me!" Steiner slowly regained his footing, staggered then steadied himself against the wall.
For a split second, Moshenko's eyes went from Natasha to Steiner, as he remembered Grant suggesting such a possibility, that the children weren't Lampson's. Suddenly, he heard a faint sound but he wasn’t able to distinguish where it was coming from.
She noticed him watching and she took a step back, reached into her pocket and pulled out a small radio. Moshenko's eyebrows lifted in surprise, immediately recognizing the voice of Mikhail Antolov, Director of the KGB.
Antolov repeated, "Come in, N1."
Natasha brought the transmitter toward her mouth, keeping her eyes on Moshenko. "N1."
"Report."
"Goods and courier in hand without incident." She switched off the radio then handed it to Moshenko.
He slipped the radio into his pocket as he asked, "What is happening, Lieutenant Ostrova?"
She turned her head slowly, settling her cold, blue eyes on Steiner. "Comrade Antolov will soon have Minister Stoyakova under arrest, and I have him," she said while gesturing with her pistol toward the East German. She held the Makarov steady, aimed at Steiner's heaving chest.
Moshenko worried. Antolov knew that he part of this game. He motioned forward with his firearm. "We must go." He shoved Steiner ahead of them. "How did all this happen?" he asked Natasha.
For the time being, Natasha didn’t concern herself where Moshenko was leading them and she continued her story. "I had been selected personally by Comrade Antolov to go to East Berlin and monitor the scientists and their progress on the virus and drug. I gave Comrades Antolov and Stoyakova monthly reports on the progress of the experiments. It was when Comrade Stoyakova requested an additional one million roubles to expand the project that Comrade Antolov became suspicious of him.