The Atlantis Stone

CHAPTER 16

Valentina Antipov cast a critical eye at her reflection. She brushed a speck of dust from her uniform. The four small gold stars on her shoulder boards marked her recent promotion to captain. In the mostly male world of Russian security, it was high acknowledgment.

The dark olive green color of her uniform went well with her deep green eyes. Her long, dark hair was coiled tightly at the back of her head in accordance with regulations. The jacket felt tight across her chest but that couldn't be helped. She picked up the hat, careful not to touch the gleaming visor, admiring the gold and red badge and red piping. It added a touch of color and elegance to the uniform and spoke of authority and tradition.

Today was a special occasion. She was to receive the Medal of the Fatherland, First Class, with Swords. It was an important award, about as good as it got in peacetime. President Vladimir Orlov himself would pin it on. Like the promotion, the medal was an acknowledgment of her work in the Balkans and Germany during the winter just past.

With a final quick check in the mirror, Valentina left her apartment and locked the door behind her. She went down the stairs to the street. A black Lincoln limousine waited to take her to the ceremony in the Kremlin. Modern American cars had taken the place of the aging Zils that once shepherded the elite of Russia around Moscow. A young corporal saluted and held the rear door open for her. Valentina wasn't surprised to see General Vysotsky sitting in the backseat.

"Good morning, Valentina."

"General."

Valentina's mother had been KGB, like Vysotsky. She'd died when Valentina was nine years old. Vysotsky had watched over her after that, supervising her progress and training. He'd never shown her affection that she could remember. She would not have known how to respond if he had. Valentina had long ago clamped down on her emotions, burying her desires for something more than the approval of her instructors.

Vysotsky looked her over and nodded, once.

"Good. Our president appreciates attention to detail."

"I haven't thanked you for recommending me for this decoration," she said.

"Much as I would like to take credit, it's not me you have to thank."

"Who, then?"

"President Orlov. He decided to give you this after I explained to him how your actions in Germany revealed the plot against us."

Valentina's long history with Vysotsky allowed her to address him with familiarity, at least in private. A glass window separated the driver's compartment from the rear. Even so, Valentina suspected everything said in the car would be recorded. She kept her voice neutral and her thoughts to herself.

"It is good that our president was able to call back the forces he was forced to deploy."

The truth was that Orlov had launched an unprovoked invasion of the Baltic states. He'd been tricked into thinking NATO and the West were too weak and too unwilling to respond. Anyone who made the mistake of pointing out that Orlov had been duped would soon find themselves spending time in Lefortovo prison.

Vysotsky, just as aware as Valentina that the car might be bugged, nodded agreement.

"President Orlov only wants peace with the West."

The car entered the Kremlin grounds.

"Where are we going?"

"The president has chosen the Armory for the presentation."

Valentina had expected to be taken to the Senate building, where Orlov had his office and where many official functions took place. Instead, the driver guided them toward the Kremlin Armory and stopped at the entrance. An officer wearing the rank badges of a major waited for them outside. He saluted as Vysotsky got out of the car.

"General. Captain. Please follow me. The president is waiting."

Construction of the current Armory building had started in 1844. It had always been a museum housing prized artifacts of Russian history.

They found President Orlov standing in front of the ivory throne of Ivan the Terrible, the first Czar of Russia. An aide and a photographer stood not far away. Orlov had his hands clasped behind his back, contemplating the elaborate carving on the throne.

A brilliant diplomat and a ruthless general, Ivan the Terrible had single-handedly created the Russian Empire. His nickname was well deserved. Paranoid and mentally unstable, Ivan was remembered as much for barbaric cruelty as for diplomatic successes.

Valentina had never been in the museum. She looked at the magnificent throne and then at Orlov. His expression was rapt. Nearby was a display case holding the Imperial Crown of Czarist Russia. The magnificent crown glittered with gold and priceless jewels.

He'd like to be sitting on that throne, she thought, wearing that crown.

Orlov turned to her and smiled. His flat, blue eyes almost twinkled. He could have been someone's favorite relative, but Valentina was not fooled. Behind the twinkle was a shrewd and calculating presence. Having Orlov turn his attention to you was like being in a room with a half domesticated wolf. You could never be quite sure what the wolf was going to do.

"Look at that, Captain." He gestured at the throne. "The man who sat there is an inspiration for us all. His vision founded our nation."

"Yes, Mister President. A man to admire."

The lie came easily. Valentina thought Ivan the Terrible was a butcher, a madman like Stalin. She didn't share the thought out loud. Everyone knew Orlov admired Stalin.

For such a powerful man, the Russian president was not impressive in size, not even as tall as Valentina. She knew he was much stronger than he looked. The Russian media liked to point out Orlov's physical prowess, his ability to swim long distances and lift heavy weights.

Briefly, she wondered what he'd be like in bed.

Probably quick to finish and quick to leave.

His mind still on Ivan, Orlov said, "More than admire. He is a man we should strive to emulate, committed to Mother Russia and her role as the greatest power in the world."

"Yes, Mister President," Valentina said again.

"It is young officers like you who are the future of our country, Captain," Orlov said. He turned to Vysotsky. "Do you not agree, General?"

"Yes, Mister President. Captain Antipov is one of our best."

"I knew your mother, Captain. We were in the KGB together."

Orlov had reached the rank of Lieutenant Colonel before resigning to enter politics.

He knew my mother. He must know everything about her. Everything about me.

It was not a comfortable thought.

Orlov gestured and the aide stepped forward, holding an open box with Valentina's medal. It was round and gold, the size of a large coin. The ribbon was a dark, earth red. In the center was a double-headed Russian eagle, overlaid on an enameled knight's cross that matched the color of the ribbon. The medal was topped with two crossed swords. Orlov lifted it from its silk cushion.

"Captain Antipov." Orlov's voice turned formal.

"Sir." Valentina stiffened to attention.

"You are awarded the Medal of the Order for Merit to the Fatherland, 1st Class with Swords, for exceptional service. Your courageous actions have strengthened our nation and contributed to public order and safety. Wear it with pride."

Orlov reached up and pinned it over her left breast. The camera flashed as the photographer took his shots. She felt Orlov's hand linger on her breast. He stepped back.

"Thank you, Mister President. I will try to live up to this honor."

"I am sure you will, Captain."

The aide said, "Mister President, it is almost time to meet with the ambassador from Burundi."

"Captain, you must excuse me. General."

Vysotsky and Valentina saluted.

When he had left the room, Vysotsky said, "I think he likes you."

Valentina remembered the feel of Orlov's hand on her breast.

I hope he doesn't like me too much.