High Alert

CHAPTER 15

It was late in the afternoon in Moscow. Outside the windows of General Alexei Vysotsky's fourth floor corner office at SVR Headquarters, the first serious snow of the winter season blanketed the city. The director of Russia's Foreign Intelligence Service reached down into a desk drawer and took out a bottle of vodka and two glasses. On his desk, a small black box that blocked electronic eavesdropping flashed with a blinking green light. He poured, then pushed one across the desk toward Valentina.

She wore a tailored, olive green uniform that contrasted with the vivid green of her eyes. Her shoulder boards bore the two stars and two red stripes of a Lieutenant Colonel. The uniform couldn't suppress her ample breasts. Her dark hair was cropped short to the sides, bringing out her high cheekbones and full lips. Uniform or not, Valentina Antipov was an attractive woman.

"Na'zdrovnya" Alexei held up his glass.

"Na'zdrovnya." Valentina's left hand was wrapped in flesh colored bandage where it had been burned. She raised her glass with her good hand and drank with him.

Vysotsky smacked his lips. "You were careless in Kiev, Valentina."

"With all due respect, you were not there, General."

"I might take that as insubordination, if not for the fact that President Orlov is pleased with the result of your assignment. The gun you left has raised suspicion we were responsible."

"They would have suspected us no matter what," Valentina said. "If the gun hadn't jammed, they wouldn't have anything. I was lucky to escape."

"Still, you might have found a less obvious way to get rid of our problem."

"Oh? The security surrounding the conference center was superb. Attempting anything except a direct approach would have failed. It was bad luck that one of Sirco's bodyguards had his eye on the blinis."

"Perhaps he was hungry," Alexei said. "In any event, your presence is requested this evening at the Kremlin for a private dinner. Orlov wishes to thank you personally for your work."

Valentina thought about the last time she'd been in close proximity to President Vladimir Orlov. He'd pinned a medal on her tunic and allowed his hand to linger on her breast.

"I'll bet he does," Valentina said. "I don't think dinner is what he has in mind."

"Now, Valentina, our beloved President has been very good to you. It is to him that you owe your new promotion. Not that I tried to dissuade him. The least you can do is give him the pleasure of your company at dinner."

"And after?"

"That is up to you, but I'm sure you will do what is best for the service."

"You want me to play the whore with him."

She drained her glass. Without asking, she poured herself a second drink.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Vysotsky said. "Don't play innocent with me, I know you too well. Consider it another assignment."

"I admit, there is a certain attraction to seducing a man of such power. At least he's reasonably attractive."

"He has a reputation of sexual prowess, as I'm sure you've heard."

"Why are you determined that I should become his mistress?"

"If you succeed in involving him beyond simple sexual satisfaction, he will eventually begin to tell you things. You will have an inside track on what he is thinking."

"And you wish me to keep you informed of his thoughts."

"Naturally."

"You are placing me in a difficult position," Valentina said, "assuming a relationship develops in the first place."

"Because I'm asking you to take advantage of his lust?"

"Because he will insist on absolute loyalty. If he thinks I am betraying him by reporting to you, both of us will end up in a courtyard with a bullet in the back of our heads."

"Then you must make sure he has no need to be suspicious," Vysotsky said.