The Russian Deception

CHAPTER 7

Valentina Antipov was working out in the gym and thinking about Alexei Vysotsky. The general was the closest thing to a father Valentina had ever known. That didn't mean she confused her feelings about him with a normal family relationship, whatever that was. It was more like a relationship between a stern taskmaster and a brilliant student. Valentina's feelings toward Vysotsky were a bitter stew of love and resentment, seasoned with grudging admiration.

Recently the relationship had become more complicated. She'd discovered that Vysotsky had murdered her father.

Her mother, Sofia, had been an officer in the KGB. Valentina had never known her father. She hadn't even known who her father was until she discovered it by accident. The information was on the computer in Vysotsky's office.

The details in the file had shocked her.

Her father had been a spy for the Americans, a CIA agent stationed in West Germany in the days of the Cold War, when divided Germany was a hotbed of espionage. Valentina's mother had seduced him as part of an assignment to compromise him. But then the relationship had gone beyond two spies trying to manipulate each other. Sofia had gotten pregnant. She'd refused to abort the child and her handlers had called her back to Moscow. Her CIA lover had been reprimanded and sent home to his American family.

Valentina's father was marked for termination. Alexei Vysotsky had carried out the sanction. Her father, his American wife and his son had died in the crash. There was a daughter. She hadn't been in the car.

Valentina's mind had reeled as she'd tried to absorb all the information I have a sister. Who is she? What's she like? Then, Vysotsky killed my father. He's been lying to me all these years.

Vysotsky had told Valentina that her mother died in a car wreck engineered by the CIA. That she was a hero of the Soviet Union. It wasn't until Valentina read the file that she learned the truth. Her mother had been drunk. She'd driven off the road without any help from the opposition.

There was a reference to another file on the sister, Selena Connor. Valentina pulled it up on the computer.

As she read, her anger had begun to grow. Her sister was a spy as well, an active agent, working for a secretive intelligence unit answering to the U.S. president.

Maybe there's something in the genes, she thought.

More than a spy, her sister was wealthy on a level that would have made even a Russian oligarch take notice. She was accomplished, famous in her own right in academic circles. Newly married to her team leader. A woman who had everything.

Why had this woman enjoyed the warmth and comfort of a father, her father, as a child when Valentina had not?

It was unfair.

It had been a simple task to memorize the photograph of her sister and the information on the file before she shut it down. When Vysotsky returned he'd found Valentina standing by the window of his office, looking out toward the spires of Moscow.

That had been three weeks ago.

She thought about the sister she'd never met and pulled the handles of the exercise machine viciously together, the weights clanking at the ends of their cables.

Her phone signaled a call from Vysotsky.

"Valentina. Where are you?"

"In the gym."

"Finish whatever you are doing and come to my office."

He ended the call. Valentina looked at the phone and thought about hurling it across the room. She stepped away from the machine and headed for the locker room. She hadn't decided what she was going to do about Vysotsky, or if she was going to do anything. Until she did, everything had to appear normal.

Valentina was an attractive woman, with high cheekbones and intense green eyes. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders in gleaming waves. She had a body that made men look twice but her beauty concealed a mind deeply scarred by the absence of love. Under the calm exterior she showed to the world, Valentina simmered with rage. She'd been taught how to kill but no one had bothered to teach her the art of compassion. Her hands seemed as innocent as a child's but she could deliver a blow with either one that could break an oaken board or an opponent's bones.

She came into Vysotsky's office dressed in black walking shoes, black slacks and a long-sleeved black top, open at the collar. Her long hair was piled on top of her head. She wore no jewelry or makeup. She moved with the unconscious ease of an Alpha predator. Her eyes radiated a singular focused intensity that made Vysotsky think of a beautiful, feral angel.

He rose and came out from behind his desk and greeted her with three quick kisses to her cheeks.

"Valentina. You are looking lovely as always. Come, sit. I have a new assignment for you."

Vysotsky went back behind his desk. "I am sending you to Macedonia on a delicate mission."

"To Greece?" Valentina asked.

"No, to the country. The Republic of Macedonia to the north of Greece."

Valentina waited.

Vysotsky continued. "Macedonia is friendly to us. The Americans are providing covert support to a revolutionary movement in the country that seeks to overthrow the current regime. They want to see someone in power who will allow them to install missile batteries that could be used against us."

"How does this involve me?"

"The movement is called 11 October. The leader is a man named Jerzi Todorovski. Without him the movement would collapse. The different factions would turn on one another. Todorovski is the glue that holds them together."

"And you want me to melt the glue," Valentina said.

"As always, you perceive the heart of the matter."

Vysotsky placed a folder on his desk and pushed it across to her. "Everything you need to know about him is in here."

Valentina opened the folder and looked at the photograph of her target. A dark eyed man with a square jaw and close-set eyes stared back at her.

"He seems young," she said.

"That is one of the things that makes him dangerous. He attracts the students, the young radicals. He's intelligent enough to present ideas that bring in the intellectuals. He's educated and he knows how to talk with them but he comes from common people and speaks their language as well. It makes him a man to be reckoned with."

"When do I leave?"

"Today. The main demonstration takes place tomorrow in Skopje."

"How do you wish it to be done? Do you want visibility? A false trail, perhaps to the CIA?"

"That is an interesting idea, Valentina, but no. Better if it looks natural. A heart attack, for example. Perhaps an undetected anomaly, an aneurysm in the brain that led to his unfortunate death. There should be no indication of anything except natural causes, unless you have no other choice."

Valentina nodded. "I understand. You can leave it to me. All I need to do is get close to him."

"It shouldn't be difficult. He loves to mix with his supporters. It would be a simple matter to embrace him or shake his hand or whatever is needed."

"I understand," Valentina said again.

Vysotsky looked into her eyes and saw something primal and dangerous, as if Valentina scented her prey.

I'm glad it's not me she's coming after, he thought.