The Atlantis Stone

CHAPTER 4

General Alexsandr Volkov looked down from the window of his office on the top floor of FSB Headquarters in the old Lubyanka prison, contemplating the statue of Felix Dzerzhinsky dominating Lubyanka Square. Volkov's hands were clasped behind his back. His fingers moved with restless energy. The Director of the FSB was a broad block of a man, with hairy arms and the build of a wrestler. Behind his back he was called The Gorilla. No one ever called him that when he was within earshot.

Volkov's job as head of the Federal'naya sluzhba bezopasnosti Rossiyskoy Federatsii made him a powerful man in Russia. The old Committee of State Security, the KGB, had been broken up into separate organizations after the fall of the Soviet Union. FSB was in charge of internal state security and intelligence gathering. External security and foreign intelligence was the responsibility of the Sluzhba vneshney razvedki, SVR.

Volkov's world would have been perfect if foreign intelligence was under his control. Since it wasn't, he settled for doing everything he could to undermine SVR and its new director, Alexei Vysotsky. His ambition was to resurrect the KGB as it once was, with himself in command. The name would be different, of course. Whatever the name, the function would be the same. But it would require the blessing of the Federation president, Vladimir Orlov.

Orlov meant eagle in Russian; Volkov meant wolf. There was no doubt in Volkov's mind that one day the wolf would pull the eagle from the sky. In the meantime, he had to play the role of loyal officer and servant of the state.

A report lay on his desk about the interrogation of Yuri Sokolov. His agents had been thorough, if too enthusiastic. Better if the traitor had been brought back to Moscow for more extensive questioning, but the questioning had been too much for the old man. Even so, enough had been learned to justify further action.

Sokolov had talked about the pillar in the photograph he'd given to Volkov's informant. He'd babbled about the writing on it. He'd talked about Atlantis and a power that could lift stones in the air. Volkov didn't give a shit about Atlantis. All he wanted was more information about the artifact that controlled that mysterious power.

Sokolov had told Volkov's interrogators there was a map showing where the pillar had been photographed. He'd sent it with the picture to America.

The FSB was not supposed to intervene on foreign soil. That was the job of SVR. But like the American FBI, the FSB could legally make an exception when a Russian citizen was involved. Sokolov had been a Russian citizen. As he saw it, Volkov was within his mandate to pursue the issue, wherever it took him.

He turned away from the window, sat down at his desk and opened the folder with the report. Sokolov had revealed where he'd sent the picture.

It complicated things.

Selena Connor was part of the Project, red-flagged in the database of every Russian intelligence agency. That was where it got complicated. She wouldn't be easily intimidated into handing over the map and picture. He needed that map.

It might be possible to steal them without confronting her, Volkov thought. If not, I'll have to take extreme measures.

As long as the FSB didn't bring down the wrath of the Americans on the Kremlin, no one in Moscow would mourn the death of an American spy.

Volkov didn't know if the force described on the pillar existed, but if there was any chance it was real he had find it before the Americans did. With the map, he could find the pillar and that might tell him more. If he could discover the secret of the force and how it was controlled, he'd gain allies in the military and among the oligarchs. He'd gain favor with Orlov. It would put him in a better position to make his move against SVR and Vysotsky.

He pressed a button on his intercom.

"Get Major Yeltsin in here."

"Sir."

Five minutes later there was a knock on his door.

"Enter."

Major Borya Yeltsin wore a reasonably good dark suit, white shirt and black tie. Unlike SVR, officers in the FSB wore civilian dress rather than army uniform. Yeltsin was dressed in civilian clothes, but no one would mistake him for a civilian.

His hair was cropped close to his head and high on the sides. He had the kind of unsmiling eyes found in soldiers who have seen the red edge of war. Broad shoulders and chest showed that he worked out on a regular basis. Yeltsin stopped in front of Volkov's desk and snapped to attention.

"You sent for me, sir?"

"I have a mission for you. I want you to take a team to America and retrieve something for me."

"What is it you wish me to obtain?"

"A picture and a map. They were sent to a woman who lives in Washington. She is a member of one of their covert intelligence units. Try to recover the items without involving her in a direct way. If that is not possible, you are to take any action necessary to ensure the success of your mission."

Volkov handed a folder to Yeltsin, along with a copy of the photograph.

"I want you to bring back the original of this photograph and a map that accompanies it. The map will date to the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. It should be easy to identify. The address where everything was sent is in the folder, along with a picture of the woman and a summary of who she is. Do not underestimate her. She is part of a direct action team, highly trained."

"She's a woman. I can handle it."

"Don't let your balls get in the way, Major."

Yeltsin stiffened at the rebuke. "Sir."

"This mission requires discretion. It would be much better if you avoid any wet stuff but if it comes to that, make sure you are not apprehended. There must be no trace of our involvement. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Pick your team and let me know when you are ready to leave. Make it soon."

"I can leave later today."

"Excellent. Dismissed."

Yeltsin snapped his heels together and left the room.

As he walked down the hall he looked at the picture of Selena.

An attractive woman, he thought. It would be interesting to interrogate her.

He thought about how he would question her and began to whistle as he walked.