The Russian Deception

CHAPTER 5

The airport in Skopje was named after Alexander the Great, one more bone of contention in the ongoing squabbles between the Republic of Macedonia and Greece. The terminal was modern, clean and a long way from Virginia in more ways than one.

They'd flown from Washington to London and from London to Vienna. From Vienna they'd taken a flight on Austrian Airlines that got them to Skopje. Counting layovers, airport transfers and delays they'd been traveling for a full day. Nick consoled himself by thinking that airline seats were a hell of a lot better than riding on webbing in the belly of a C-130 loaded down with a hundred and forty pounds of gear.

They rented a VW Passat from Inter Car Rental. Selena wanted a Mercedes but Nick pointed out that they were supposed to be reporters. A Mercedes was too visible, too luxurious. Most of the rentals were underpowered and small. The VW had enough room and adequate power, if not the several hundred horses Selena would have preferred.

Their hotel was located across from Macedonia Square in the heart of the city, on the bank of a river. The square was the natural rallying point for the protests. At the hotel desk Selena handed over their passports and spoke to the clerk in English. He couldn't find their reservations until she switched to Macedonian and slipped him a fifty dollar bill. Keys to two rooms appeared as if by magic.

Selena was an accomplished linguist, fluent in many languages. Before she joined the Project she'd been a lecturer on the academic circuit and a consultant to NSA. She had a world reputation as an expert in ancient and obscure languages of the Far East.

"I didn't know you spoke Macedonian," Nick said as they headed for the elevator.

"I don't but I can speak Bulgarian. Most people here can speak it. The languages are almost the same. The differences are subtle."

"What was the problem with the clerk?"

"He doesn't like reporters much. There are a lot of them in town to cover the protests and some of them are pretty arrogant. I told him we're working for a Dutch weekly that wants to present a fair account of what's happening here."

"The American passports didn't put him off?"

"No. I told him we're freelance. The U.S. hasn't made as many mistakes here as we have in other places. People are still friendly."

"But not to reporters."

"Not as far as he's concerned."

Their rooms were on the fifth floor in the front of the hotel and provided a bird's eye view of Macedonian Square, reached by a stone bridge spanning the Vardar River. The square was dominated by a colossal brown and white stone column topped with a circular disk and a statue of Alexander the Great on his rearing horse, sword raised high as he rode to conquest.

The column rose from a circular pool marked by statues of four lions at the cardinal points of the compass. Statues of armed soldiers in ancient armor stood guard around the base of the pillar, ready to protect Alexander from anyone who might want to climb to the top and bother him on his horse.

There were a lot of people in the square, surrounding the pool and talking in groups. Tents and makeshift shelters were going up. Microphones and speakers were being set up on a concert stage that bordered one side of the plaza. Armed policemen stood at the edges of the square observing. Nick spotted men in civilian clothes moving through the crowd who had the unmistakable angry look of authority being challenged.

"This has all the makings of trouble," Nick said. "Take a look. Tell me what you see."

Selena scanned the crowd. "A lot of people and more coming. It doesn't look like there's a large police presence."

"Not yet. The big event is scheduled for tomorrow. They'll probably start giving speeches later on this afternoon. If I were planning on breaking up the demonstration, I'd wait until dark before I brought in reinforcements and keep them out of sight until they were needed. I spotted at least five plain clothes agents in that crowd, probably from the Intelligence Agency."

"You seem certain the government is going to interfere," Selena said.

"Count on it. Mitreski isn't about to give up power, no matter how many people tell him he should go."

"Do you think it will turn violent?"

"I'm pretty certain it will. These things follow a pattern. People get worked up by the speakers and then the government steps in. They could just send in the cops. Or they could use provocateurs to start trouble and use that as an excuse to start busting heads."

"Macedonia is an elected democracy with a rule of law," Selena said. "Doesn't that count for something? Don't you think the government could just observe and deal with whatever is said politically?"

"Just because they have elections here doesn't make it a democracy. That's what these protests are about. Your vote doesn't count for a lot when everyone you vote for is corrupt. In the end, things reach a point where revolution is the only answer."

"It doesn't have to be a violent revolution."

"Ideally, no. But unless Mitreski is responsive to the people demanding change there won't be any alternative. Things have gone too far here."

A wave of fatigue hit him. He yawned.

"The jet lag is settling in," Nick said. "Let's get Ronnie and Lamont and go downstairs for something to eat. Then I just want to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."