Second Strike

CHAPTER 55

^MOSCOW,

^{AUGUST 17, 4:15 P.M. MSK}

Major Valeri Volkov was appropriately terrified.

Seated outside the tyrant’s office for the last fifteen minutes, he’d searched his memory for every possible mistake, offense, or indiscretion he may have committed in his career. The problem with conducting such a search was that it was nearly impossible to determine what Aleksandr Stetchkin considered a mistake, offense, or indiscretion. As far as the tyrant was concerned, Volkov having been born to his parents might qualify as a mistake, having coffee instead of tea could be an offense, and saying hello to the doorman may have been an indiscretion.

The face of the aide who sat at the desk revealed nothing. He simply looked at Volkov impassively. Maybe the aide gazed that way at everyone who entered the office. Or maybe the look was reserved only for the doomed. Volkov resisted the urge to ask, afraid the question itself might be the very thing that would tip the scales against him.

The phone on the aide’s desk buzzed and he lifted the receiver to his ear. After replacing the receiver in the cradle, he stood and motioned for Volkov to enter Stetchkin’s office.

Volkov took a breath to compose himself and proceeded through the door and into an anteroom beyond which Stetchkin was standing at his desk with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Major Volkov. Please sit down.”

Volkov did as told. Stetchkin strode slowly from behind the desk and stood to Volkov’s right, towering over him.

“Thank you for coming, Major. It is most considerate of you.”

The comment bewildered Volkov. Of course Volkov was going to come. He had been commanded to come. No doubt he’d have been shot if he hadn’t come. “Thank you, sir.”

“Your file is quite interesting. Impressive. Consistently at the top of your class at university. Exceptional evaluations. When you substitute for Colonel Egorshin the unit appears to function at least as efficiently.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Your career path was not as smooth as Colonel Egorshin’s. Whereas he seems to have had to overcome comparatively few obstacles, you have had to work hard for your attainments.” Stetchkin strode back behind his desk. Volkov exhaled quietly.

“What are your ambitions, Major?”

“Sir?”

“Your personal ambitions, Major. Someone with your talents often seeks a specific command.”

Volkov grew more uncomfortable. Discussing personal ambitions with any superior was risky. With Stetchkin, it was treacherous. Volkov felt as if he were being lured into a trap. When in doubt, Volkov thought, be obsequious.

“My ambition at this point is to do my job as well as I can, sir. Where that may take me is up to others. And ultimately, you, sir.”

The answer pleased Stetchkin. “Tell me about Colonel Egorshin, Major. How do you assess his performance?”

“Outstanding, sir. Colonel Egorshin’s knowledge and capabilities are unsurpassed. He is the primary reason we are about to achieve a great success. Those under his command aspire to be as accomplished.”

Stetchkin strode around his desk and stood next to Volkov again.

“Your loyalty to your superior is noted, Major. And admirable. Yet I hear differently.”

Volkov looked straight ahead. He had no idea where Stetchkin was going and didn’t want to say something wrong. He waited for Stetchkin to continue.

“He seems to prevail upon you whenever something important must be done. He is rather impudent whenever I give a directive. I note that he often delegates matters to you. This causes me concern about his competence, not to mention his loyalty.” Stetchkin rubbed the back of his neck in a display of deliberation. “It strikes me as prudent to consider a reorganization of the unit. Understand, this is no slight to Colonel Egorshin, for whom it is clear you have a great deal of regard. But going forward—especially given the continuing importance of the unit—I think it wise that someone with unimpeachable dedication and loyalty take command. Most importantly, someone who does not equivocate.”

Volkov remained silent. Was he actually suggesting Volkov would be given command? Was this a test to judge Volkov’s loyalty to his superior? A response, any response, could be a misstep.

Again Stetchkin strode to the other side of his desk. He stood behind the high-backed leather chair, resting his forearms across the top.

“I need your frank assessment on a very specific matter, Major. This is critical. It reflects not only on Colonel Egorshin, but on your entire unit, including yourself, since you have had such an instrumental role. The operation is scheduled to begin shortly and President Mikhailov expects that it be flawless. In fact, he insists he be provided one hundred percent certainty that it move forward as scheduled. I gather from what you have just told me that it will move forward as scheduled—that your unit has completed all preparations and needs only to initiate the process. Correct?”

Volkov felt as if he were in a vise. No one could guarantee one hundred percent success of the operation, and he didn’t want to be held responsible should it not achieve that goal. But he had just touted its imminent success. And, in truth, the preparations were one hundred percent complete. There was nothing left to be done. Colonel Egorshin had covered every contingency and the unit’s work was astonishingly good.

Stetchkin added, “Of course, I understand no one can guarantee with one hundred percent certainty that all aspects of the operation will conclude successfully. But am I correct that you believe it is one hundred percent ready to proceed?”

“Yes, all preparations are, indeed, complete and it is one hundred percent ready to proceed.”

“Good. Very good. It is that type of straightforwardness that is the hallmark of a leader ready to command.” Stetchkin smiled. “And you will certify such?”

“Absolutely.”

“Outstanding, Major Volkov. President Mikhailov will be pleased.” Stetchkin again walked to Volkov’s side, placing a hand on the major’s shoulder. “Your clarity is refreshing, a departure from the temerity and obfuscation I get from Egorshin. I do not mean to be overly critical of him. By your own account, he has done a good job. Clearly, the pressure of the impending event has taken a toll. But he seems unduly distracted. Tired. I’m not sure he is budgeting his time well. Is he, to your knowledge, preoccupied with something?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir.”

“Perhaps he is having financial problems; problems with a woman? I am told he has been seeing Tatiana Palinieva, the television hostess, for some time now. Has he expressed any problems with their relationship?”

“Not to me, sir.”

“Has he discussed her at all with you?”

“Our relationship is professional, sir. Colonel Egorshin does not discuss his social life with me.”

“Have you met Palinieva?”

“I have spoken to her a few times at official functions, sir.”

“And what are your observations regarding her?”

“She is very pleasant. She seems to be interested and even knowledgeable about a range of matters—from politics to science to sports.”

“Did you discern any dissatisfaction with her personal affairs? Any signs of frustration, discontent?”

“No, sir, I did not.”

Stetchkin nodded and walked behind his desk again. “You have been very helpful, once again, Major. You have a bright future. You are dismissed.”

Volkov rose and walked out of Stetchkin’s office more than relieved. He was almost ebullient.