Russian Law (Law Series ) (Volume 1) (21 page)

He
spared a glance at the red granite engravings on the pedestal of the column
that they had almost slammed into. Of the four engravings, ‘Peace and Victory’
was on their side and he thought it quite fitting considering their current
predicament. Along with the engraving was a shield with the dates 1812, 1813
and 1814, a nod to Russia’s victory against France during the Napoleonic War.

He
followed Elena into the sea of people. Lucas could see the Elizabethan Baroque
style pale mint and white palace in front of them. The style had been made
popular in Europe during the 16
^th
and 18
^th
centuries and the
Winter Palace was one of many royal residences that had that particular
architecture. The general size and structure of the palace been used to
illustrate Imperial Russia’s power and was quite impressive.

The
palace was the fourth to stand in the spot, the first constructed in 1711 by
order of Peter the Great and was up until 1917 the official residence of the
royal family and was the shape of an a large elongated rectangle, the onion
dome of the grand church on the far right. Lights lit up the palace and he
could see the amazing beauty of it. The whole thing was quite spectacular and
took his breath away.

It
had taken hardly any time at all to get to the Palace from the station, barely
three kilometers away. It’s amazing how much longer things seemed when you were
dodging traffic and praying for God to spare your life.

Elena
and Lucas made it up to the barrier separating the palace from the protestors
and she tried to hop over when a police officer in his pressed red and blue uniform
came over, stopping her none too gently, pushing her back from the barrier.
Lucas stepped forward, ready for a battle. Elena placed a hand on his arm,
silently asking him to let it go even as she glared at the MDV officer whilst shoving
her badge in his face with her free hand.

“No
unauthorized people are allowed inside,” he replied.

“SVR.”

She
didn’t want to know how long that fact may be, so she may as well abuse the
power while she had it, she thought ruefully. The guard repeated himself and
Elena scowled at him, her face darkening as a storm brewed beneath the surface.
She looked over at the palace entrance and saw a familiar face.

“Alexei,
Alexei!” she yelled over top of the mass of voices threatening to drown hers
out.

Lucas
looked over to where she was looking, waving madly to get the attention of the
tall man who was currently on his cell phone. He watched as the man presumably
Alexei turned and sought out the origin of his name. His eyes wandered over to
Elena and he held up his hand, letting her know he saw her.

“Oh
thank God,” Elena said as Alexei started to walk over to them. His badge and
special pass displayed proudly on his brown suit.

“Elena?”
he said, although it came out more like a question. “Let her through,” he told
the officer in a tone that dared him to argue. Very few people ever did, she
knew and in the past had been one of them.

Elena
jumped over the barrier, Lucas followed. Alexei held out his hand and she took
it. They began moving away from the crowd and back towards the palace. His face
was full of concern as he asked, “What are you doing here? The entire SVR is
out looking for you.”

She
took a deep breath. “Tell me a man by the name of James Fitzgibbon got a hold
of you?”

They
made their way through the gates marking the entrance to the Palace. The gilded
emblems of Imperial Russia glowing as a beam of light hit them. Alexei led them
through the War Gallery and turned right heading to the eastern side of the
Palace.

Alexei
nodded. “I just got off the phone with him,” he held up his cell phone. “At
first I thought it was a prank but when he mentioned you and Nikolai. I had to
take him at his word. I’ve already radioed for back up and closed the exits.
The Presidents are getting to safety as we speak.”

She
felt instantly relieved, all the worry and fear that had been locked inside her
body evaporated leaving her euphoric. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to
hear that Alexei.”

She
turned to Lucas. “Finally something is going right.”

He
smiled at her, his hand going to her waist propelling her forward. Alexei
looked over at Lucas, noting the position of the man’s hand. Lucas looked up
and caught the man’s eyes and wondered if the man was going to comment. He
didn’t.

Elena
looked up and noticed the two males sizing each other up. Oh spare me, she
thought. The two agents casually took in the other’s assets, guns, muscle and
seniority. That was the only thing they had in common, that and her. One played
by the book the other tended to color outside the lines. She looked from one to
the other. They made a striking contrast, Lucas with his blonde hair and Alexei
with his dark. She made the introductions.

“Alexei
Dmitrovich – Lucas Gates, CIA. Alexei is FSB. You didn’t use your escape plans
did you? He’ll be expecting that.”

Alexei
frowned. “Who is he?”

Lucas
spoke, “Michael Ducane.”

Alexei
scoffed. “Of course a bloody American.”

“Alexei,”
Elena scolded and Alexei had the grace to look apologetic. “Do you know a man
named Igor Zimtovich?”

Alexei
looked taken back. “Of course he was the liaison officer between SVR and FSB.
Why?”

“He
was the one that provided Ducane with the intel.”

Alexei
swore under his breath.

“Yeah.”

They
continued moving quickly through the palace, cutting through Alexander Hall.
“The UN Summit was supposed be in St. George’s Hall down there,” he indicted to
the left as they walked past what were once apartments reserved for guests of
the highest ranks. “Let’s go down below, if you said this Ducane man knows the
layout of the Palace he would most likely hide there where the President’s
escape route was.”

Elena
and Lucas followed Alexei down a set of stairs hidden behind a large Peter Paul
Rubens
painting
at the end of the hall into a tight narrow tunnel. It was lighted by one naked
bulb every few feet but the light still cast shadows along the walls. Elena
widened her eyes, she had never seen this on any map. Doubted that many knew
that the tunnels existed and were still in use today.

Alexei
saw the surprise on her face and explained. “After the assassination attempt on
Alexander the Second’s life in 1880 by the People’s Will, the Czar ordered the
escape tunnels built in case of another attempt but never had a chance to use
them. The existence of the tunnels was until recently only known by members of
the royal family.”

“How
far do these tunnels go?” Lucas asked, looking about the meter and a half wide
tunnel.

“All
over, there are several hidden passageways throughout the Palace. One leading
to the New Hermitage and another under Palace Square. After Alexander the Third’s
coronation he moved his family to Gatchina Palace after  his advisors told him
that it was impossible to secure the palace, so they were never used.”

“Until
now.”

They
continued on in silence, each in their own thoughts.

“What
is his motive?” Alexei asked after some time.

“Ducane
is merely a puppet,” Lucas explained. “A man for hire. Your problem is whoever
is footing the bills.”

“And
who exactly is that?”

Lucas
shrugged. “That is so far undetermined.”

“Whoever
it is has a real taste for anarchy. If he’d been able to pull this off, it would’ve
been the biggest political statement of the century - two Presidents - two
countries one big fucking war. Can you imagine what the United States would do
if their President was killed in our country? It would destroy the peace
between the two countries and set us back years in negotiations and trust.”

Alexei
looked over at her surprised. “She’s right about that.”

In
the next minute he raised his arm and brought the butt of his gun down over her
temple. She felt pain explode in her head and the world went dark as she fell
to the floor. It all happened so fast that Lucas had no time to react. Lucas
went to attack Dimitrovich when the Russian pointed the pistol at his heart.
“Don’t try it. Drop the gun.”

Son-of-a-bitch,
Lucas thought. The bastard, they had been wrong to involve him. They trusted
the wrong man just like Nikolai had, and now they were going to end up like
Nikolai too. He looked down at Elena and saw blood matting her light hair. He
clenched his palms into tight fists, feeling unbelievably useless and a
complete failure. He had promised Dmitry he would take care of Elena, clear her
name. He was breaking that promise.

“Now
turn around,” Alexei ordered.

Lucas
did as he was told, buying time. Maybe it wasn’t over yet. He’d been in some
sticky situations in the past and sometimes all it took was one moment. “So you
were the traitor inside Russian Intelligence?”

He
already knew the truth but he wanted the admission. His mind was working a mile
a minute while he tried to think of a way to get free. He had no doubt that
Alexei had lied to them about having moved the Presidents. No, they were where
they were supposed to be and if he didn’t come up with a plan, both of them
will be dead along with him and Elena and who knows how many others.

“You
know, you actually helped me out,” Alexei said as he patted Lucas down,
discovering his weapon and pocketing it along with the spare magazine. “I was
wondering how this was going to end but you ‘Mr. Arrogant American’ going around
shooting SVR agents – evading the law. You are perfect as the man who suddenly
flips out and kills his President along with Russia’s – no one will be the
wiser.”

Lucas
looked down at the prone form of Elena lying on the cold concrete floor,
unconscious. Alexei followed his gaze for a second then turned his full
attention back to Lucas. “Don’t worry about Elena. I’ll take good care of her 
- until I don’t need her anymore of course.”

Lucas
could feel the rage burning inside him. If this bastard touched one hair on
Elena’s head he was going to rip him limb from limb. Diplomatic relations be
damned.

Alexei
pushed the end of the pistol into Lucas’s back. “Let’s go.”

Using
the barrel of the gun he prodded Lucas forward, directing him where he wanted
Lucas to go. They went down several more tunnels before coming to an opening.
Alexei pushed Lucas into the room recently carved out of the concrete. Michael
Ducane looked down from his place on a ladder, his hands reaching towards the
ceiling as he pressed the compliant C4 plastic explosive into the concrete.

“About
fucking time,” he muttered loudly as he spotted Alexei coming towards him.

“Is
there a problem?”

Michael
looked at Lucas, his eyebrow raised. “You tell me.”

“Nothing
that concerns you. Are you almost done?”

“Ten
more minutes and I’ll be on my way.”

“Can
you speed things up. I have some other matters to attend to.”

Lucas
knew Dimitrovich was speaking about Elena, who would soon regain consciousness.

Ducane
grunted and returned his focus to the dark grey square. “I’m not exactly baking
a cake here you know.”

 He
retrieved some wires from a tool box precariously balanced on the top step. He
imbedded the wire into the plastique.

“Just
do your job Ducane.”

Above
them, Lucas heard the sounds of a man talking into a microphone. He could just
make out the words: “
Introducing the President of the Russian Federation,
Sergei Smirnov
”.

Lucas
went cold. They were directly under St. George’s Hall. This is what they had
planned all along. This was why Nikolai Nagregor had uploaded the blueprints
for the Winter Palace. He watched as Michael Ducane attached to wires to the
small electronic timer. It was all getting too real.

He
thought of the men above them, the men trying to make the world a better place
and here he was standing beside two men who wanted to destroy that.

Not
while he was still alive, he thought. He elbowed Alexei, the man, unprepared
for the attack, dropped his gun and lost his balance, falling to the floor.
Lucas didn’t wait to watch him land. He took off down the labyrinth of
passageways under the Palace. He heard Alexei yell at Ducane to stop him.

Lucas
could hear Ducane’s footsteps behind him as he navigated the halls. He was at a
distinct disadvantage at not having had time to peruse the schematics of the
structure. Ducane came up behind him and tackled him, they rolled about the
floor. Lucas used his strength to push Ducane away so that his fist could connect
with Michael’s jaw before untangling himself and finding the exit out of the
tunnels and into St. George’s Hall.

“Bomb,
evacuate, bomb. Evacuate!” he yelled at the room. The Secret Service were
immediately on the President like bees on honey. Michael followed him into the
room and produced a gun. He raised it up and took a shot at Lucas. Lucas hit the
floor hard. Several screams of terror filled the room and the Diplomat’s began
to panic, pushing at each other so that they could escape the room, some being knocked
over in an effort to get out. Lucas thought fleetingly about the irony of the
situation. Apparently diplomatic relations go out the window when their own
lives were in jeopardy.