Power Play

CHAPTER 10 MOSCOW, RUSSIA

Elena Krayev entered the lobby of Hotel Metropol, a short walk from the Kremlin and Red Square, wearing a red dress hugging her curves, with a slit to the top of her right thigh, accentuating her long legs. Heads turned, both male and female, following the Russian as she entered Metropol Hall, a three-story-tall grand dining room. The hall’s opulent interior, replete with marble Ionic pillars supporting a stained-glass ceiling, was reminiscent of other grand hotels of the era — the Plaza in New York, Claridge’s in London, and the Ritz in Paris.

Passing through Metropol Hall, Elena entered Savva, the hotel’s five-star restaurant offering a balcony view of the Bolshoi Theater. She moved through the crowded establishment, not bothering to check with the hostess before entering a private dining room in the back. Inside the small room, capable of seating twenty, was a single table covered with a white-starched tablecloth set for two. On one side of the table sat retired Fleet Admiral Georgiy Ivanov, former commander-in-chief of the Russian Navy, wearing a dark gray suit and tie.

Following the debacle at Ice Station Nautilus, the Russian president had relieved Ivanov of command. Ivanov resented his abrupt dismissal, and America’s CIA had identified an opportunity. This wasn’t Elena’s first meeting with Ivanov. They’d dined and spent the night together on several occasions. Unfortunately, Elena’s relationship with Ivanov hadn’t produced the windfall the CIA had hoped for. He apparently knew what was happening and remained tight-lipped, but Elena had managed to pry several useful nuggets from him during their previous encounters.

Ivanov rose from his chair when Elena entered, helping her into her seat before returning to his. A waiter, standing nearby, approached with the menu and Ivanov offered to order for both of them, to which Elena agreed. Ivanov selected a bottle of her favorite wine and ordered the duck, with wild cherry sauce and baked apple, for both.

Dinner was superb and the conversation remained light and enjoyable, with Elena catching up on Ivanov’s endeavors and Elena filling him in on hers — she was a Russian translator contracted to several American Fortune 500 companies. Of course, Elena didn’t reveal that translating wasn’t her only job; she was also employed by the CIA.

Both passed on dessert, and after Ivanov paid for dinner, he escorted Elena out a back exit where a black sedan awaited, car running and chauffer inside. After opening the door for Elena, he joined her in the backseat and the car traveled through the alley, turning right onto Teatral’nyy Proyezd, headed to Ivanov’s residence not far from the Kremlin. Neither spoke during the short drive, although Elena placed her hand on Ivanov’s thigh and he placed his hand on hers.

The car pulled to a halt in front of Ivanov’s townhouse, and after Elena followed Ivanov inside, she made her move. She pushed Ivanov against the wall and pressed her body against his, offering a passionate kiss, which he eagerly accepted. She was nearly six feet tall — the same height as Ivanov — and she used her body to pin him against the wall, her hands placed against it on either side of him while she let his hands wander.

After a long moment, Elena stepped back and grabbed Ivanov by his tie, guiding him toward the dining room, where she pushed him down into a chair. She hiked her skirt up and sat in his lap facing him, her thighs straddling his waist, resting her forearms on his shoulders while she leaned in for another kiss.

When she pulled back, Ivanov smiled and said, “So, Miss Krayev, what brings you here tonight? What is it you want to learn?” He placed his hands on her bare thighs.

Ivanov had never voiced his suspicion about her, but there was no doubt he’d suspected for some time. She decided to be direct. “The Americans have learned that Russia has developed a new torpedo. Kazan is test-firing it against Alexander.”

Ivanov belted out a hearty laugh, its intensity surprising Elena. Something was awry; she hadn’t said anything remotely funny.

With a smile still on his face, he said, “This is why Russia will win a war against the Americans. Even with their sophisticated intelligence agencies and the billions of dollars they pour into espionage, the single most important development in submarine warfare has eluded them. We are not testing a new torpedo. We are testing Alexander!”

Elena locked on to Ivanov’s revelation. The Americans had gotten it backwards. Alexander was testing some sort of torpedo defense.

Ivanov continued, “We have been developing this technology for ten years and the Americans don’t have a clue. Even if they discover what we have developed, they will be a decade behind us. In the meantime, the Russian Navy will rule the world’s oceans.”

Elena leaned in again, stopping an inch away from his face. “What kind of technology?”

The smile faded from Ivanov’s face. “I have said too much already. You will have to be satisfied with what you have learned thus far.”

He cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes still on hers as he waited expectantly for her answer. As Elena pondered whether she’d garnered enough information, Ivanov added, “I offer tidbits only. I keep myself useful and you interested, coming back for more.”

He moved his hands up to her slender waist, waiting for her response. Finally, Elena replied, “That’ll do for tonight.”

Ivanov smiled again as he reached up and slowly unzipped the back of her dress.