Fires of Kiev Read online

  “I take it there’s more to the story than peace-keeping.” Dr. Nichols sat back down.

  “We were supposed to stay out of the politics and simply keep the protests orderly and peaceful. But about half our group had really strong feelings in support of Viktor Yanukovych, the president at the time, and his support of Russian-friendly policies. Vlasenko became the unofficial leader of these soldiers.”

  “The riots turned violent,” Ben recalled.

  “I remember Vlasenko telling me they had a way to cut down the Cossack filth.” Kostya snorted. “He didn’t know I was Cossack filth, born and raised in Cherkasy. When I said no thanks, I went back to my job. It was later that I found out what Vlasenko had done. He and some of the other soldiers had detained or threatened or pushed protesters back to the stables that were on the edge of the grounds. There, Petro Vlasenko turned the work he couldn’t stomach over to his brother, Stas.

  “I arrived after his brother, Stanislav Vlasenko, tortured and killed fifteen Ukrainian prisoners during the uprisings. To escape punishment, he disappeared, probably supported by Petro,” Kostya added. “Rumor says when Stas was asked about Independence Square, he said he didn’t care what people thought, and he would kill when he needed to kill.”

  “Nice guy,” Ethan huffed. “If he admitted to killing fifteen, it’s likely a lot more.”

  “Probably.” Kostya’s eyes became glassy as he remembered. “I never saw Stas. He had disappeared when I arrived to help. I remember one girl, only nine-years-old. Her mother lay over her body, trying to somehow protect her. She had been forced to watch as soldier after soldier raped her daughter—soldiers led by Petro—and she was finally turned over to Stas when she became too bloody and torn to use.” Kostya swallowed, a cry building in his throat. “Stas shot her, but left her mother alive so she could tell the story to others.”

  Staring solemnly, Kostya’s mind flashed the images he would never forget. The room became silent to mourn the end of the innocent lives he witnessed.

  “Would you be able to recognize the Vlasenkos, Kostya?” Dr. Nichols asked.

  “Petro? Yes. I served with him for a few years. But, Stas, I never met. I just saw the blood-bath he left behind.”

  “Despite Stas’s crimes, Petro seems to be the leader, both of Fire of Dawn and between the two brothers. What about targeting Petro Vlasenko?” Will asked. “You know, tear the head off the dragon and all that. If we stop Fire of Dawn’s leader, we stop the missile.”

  Ben shook his head. “The problem is that there is at least a dozen of his followers who could take over. Not to mention if he is being supported by the Russians, we could end up with someone who is even more of a puppet to Moscow.”

  “What about going through diplomatic channels,” Will suggested. We could tip off the United Nations and get an international coalition to go in and check for the presence of nuclear weapons. Kostya, you said you have GPS coordinates?”

  “Yes, but only for four of the weapon silos. They would have to check all of the old silo sites to make sure we got them all,” Kostya said. “Besides, by the time the U.N. mobilized, everything would be hidden.”

  “The U.N. would take time we don’t have and the solution still could be volatile,” Dr. Nichols continued. “Every time the U.N. does inspections for weapons it turns into a huge mess. The party being searched has so much notice they simply move the weapons, and the coalition ends up with nothing—no proof, no weapons, and no real assurances of safety.”

  “Okay, we’ve ruled out a coup d’état and diplomacy,” Ben said. “About the only thing left is a covert operation.”

  “It’s what we’re best at,” Ethan quipped. “Dress me in black and strap a bullet-proof vest to me. I’m ready to roll.”

  “Well, a plan would be nice,” Ben said, smirking. “I mean, even the Packers couldn’t blitz the heck out of the Redskins without a game plan, even if they had been the home team.”

  Ethan snorted and threw a wadded-up piece of paper at Ben.

  “When I went to the silo by our farm, they weren’t heavily guarded, probably because the weapons weren’t armed yet,” Kostya said, “but, one of the guards did mention more guards were coming.”

  “You can be sure that after your visit, Fire of Dawn has gotten a little more careful.” Dr. Nichols walked to the other side of the room and wrote on the whiteboard as he was speaking. “First, we need a cover to get into the country, a process for how to disable the weapons permanently, and protection while there and for the return home.”

  The men talked and brainstormed for the next two hours. By lunchtime they had a plan in place. There were two keys to their success: Kostya and Meredith.

  Chapter 14

  Will and Kostya were waiting at a table to meet Meredith in the hospital cafeteria during her three a.m. lunch break. Scanning the room, Kostya smiled when he saw her, even though she arrived five minutes late. She felt plain wearing blue scrubs over a long sleeved white tee and sneakers, but he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  Meredith made a beeline for the Starbucks stand, waving to them on her way, and when she sat down, she was happily sipping on a caramel latte. The place was deserted except for a few hospital staff picking over the cold case of sandwiches and salads, the only prepared food available from the cafeteria at this time. Will had promised something better, and she grinned widely when he opened a bag and unpacked a pint of tomato bisque and a grilled cheese on sourdough.

  “I take it you stopped by the Washington Mans tonight,” Meredith said, referring to her parents’ house in Georgetown.

  “I have to in order to get Mrs. Farley’s soup and grilled cheese,” Will said. “She said to tell you tomorrow night is cream of chicken and rice. She’ll keep it in the crockpot if you want to stop by after your shift.”

  “She is the best.” Meredith took a bite of her sandwich dipped in the savory soup. “So, what do you guys need? It sounded important on the phone.” Her mouth full, she focused on Will and Kostya.

  Will looked around them. The three of them sat in a corner of the room and were out of earshot of anyone else. “We have a proposition for you. TRUST needs your help. It may be outside of your comfort zone, but in the end, it will be for the greater good.”

  “Okay,” Meredith said carefully, glancing at the empty tables around them. “Is this one of those, ‘I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you’ things?”

  Kostya laughed, recognizing his line from last night. “Sort of, except this is ‘we’re going to tell you, but we may have to shoot anyone else you tell’.”

  “Seriously?” Meredith rolled her eyes, sure that he was joking. She paused, waiting for the punchline but neither man spoke. “You’re serious?” She glanced at each of their somber expressions and immediately got nervous.

  “Yeah, this is serious. Nuclear bomb serious,” Will said.

  “You want me to be a spy?” She lifted her eyebrows incredulously. Nuh-uh. No way. No how. There was no way that she could do anything that might result in her torture or death.

  “Not exactly a spy,” Will said. “We want you to do what you’ve done before and go into the Ukraine as a medical aid worker.”

  “Okay…” Meredith sipped her coffee and eyed them suspiciously. “Where do the nuclear missiles come in?”

  “You won’t be working any clinics this trip. You’ll be the front to get me to the silos again,” Kostya explained.

  Meredith studied them, unconvinced. “You guys better have a good explanation and a better plan.”

  Forty-five minutes later, the three of them sat with their heads close together and Meredith held her hands up for them to stop and listen to her.

  “Let me just clarify what I’m hearing.” Meredith lowered her empty coffee cup and tapped the lid with her fingernail as she gathered her thoughts. “You want me to lead a medical aid group into the Ukraine as a front for getting Kostya in so TRUST can defuse bombs?”

&nbs
p; “It’s not really defusing,” Kostya said with a crooked smile. “It’s more like disabling.”

  “Okay, disabling.” Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. “I don’t even know where to begin with the problems we’re going to face. I mean, let’s start with the basics. I am a resident in a busy hospital in Washington D.C. How am I going to get the time off work to go on this adventure?”

  “Hannigan at INS is part of our team for getting papers and such. He’s friends with Dr. Singh and he’ll arrange things,” Will explained. “You’ll be doing a service for the country.”

  “What about getting in to the Ukraine, especially with Kostya, who is a wanted man there?” Meredith asked.

  “I’ll have a new identity,” he said. “Dr. Nichols says he can get me papers with any name I want. I’ll have medical credentials as well.”

  “Will those papers keep you alive if you are discovered by Fire of Dawn?” Meredith whispered. “Will they keep me alive if I’m caught with you?”

  Kostya’s eyes darkened with the suggestion of putting her in danger. Holding her eyes with his, he reached out and took her hand. “Meri, this is larger than you and me. This is Hiroshima times ten. Letting this happen is not an option. We have to do something.” His eyes searched hers, gently comforting her. “I didn’t choose to be in this position, but there’s no way I can turn my back on the problem. Too many lives are at stake.”

  “I need time to think about this,” she said to Kostya and then directed at Will. “Can we talk again later?”

  “Of course,” Will replied. “In the meantime, can we start drawing up some plans?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yeah, start the plans.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get back to work. Kostya, will you be home when I get back?”

  “Yes. I’ll make some breakfast, too,” he offered.

  “Okay. I’ll see you around eight-thirty.” Holding Kostya’s gaze until the last moment, her eyes didn’t leave his until she turned to go. The two men watched her as she left, but when she approached the corner, she stopped and turned back to them.

  “I’m probably going to say yes, you know.”

  “You’ll be awesome, too,” Will said, unsurprised.

  “Mm-hmm,” Kostya added. “There’s not much you can’t do.”

  Resigned, she nodded and headed around the corner. She would do it, but she was hardly sure it was a good decision. Meredith, her mind spinning with ideas, ran back to her shift in Emergency.

  Chapter 15

  Petro Vlasenko arrived to the River Side Park in Kiev and sat at the third bench from the avenue reading a paper. Folded inside the paper was Kostya’s dossier. He’d personally prepared it for this mission. He couldn’t trust anyone else to prepare the information accurately. The Assassin needed to know what he was facing.

  Ex-Ukrainian Special Forces. Computer engineering expert. Strong ties to the area where the silos were. Fluent in three languages and conversational in three more. Kostya’s dossier read more like James Bond’s than a man who fled frightened from the country of his birth. Vlasenko knew Kostya wouldn’t stay away any more than his brother Stas would. They both would return home for this fight.

  He flipped to the picture. He hadn’t changed much since they served together in Spetnaz-Alfa. Taken late at night after a party at a Washington D.C. hotel, the paparazzi behind the lens focused on Meredith St. Claire leaving her father’s fundraiser. Vlasenko valued the image of the fugitive next to her. Kostya Dychenko was in Washington D.C. Finding him and getting the chip was crucial to their final plan. Fire of Dawn must have a working missile to be a threat.

  A young man walked swiftly toward him wrapped in a fur-lined trench coat that was popular with many of the businessmen downtown. The man had the build so common of a military sniper: not too tall, but muscular and in total control of each movement. His blond hair was short enough to be acceptable in the military, but stylish enough that it blended into the masses of Kiev citizens walking through the cold, but calm November afternoon. On his wrist, the tattoo of a phoenix fashioned out of flames and a star was visible above his leather gloves.

  He sat on the other side of the bench, and the newspaper in Vlasenko’s hands was pushed toward him. “I trust that the terms are acceptable?” he asked quietly.

  “Fifty-K for a proven kill, and extra twenty-five if I get the chip? In Euros?”

  “Yes. I have routing numbers to facilitate the transfer of money. I ask that you send word of any progress immediately to the email address written on the dossier. The account will be monitored twenty-four-seven.” He looked directly at the Assassin. “The less you and I speak directly, the better.” Vlasenko jutted his chin forward. “You understand.”

  “Yes,” the Assassin said as he slid the newspaper into his hands and quickly left the park.

  Vlasenko sighed and looked out on the Dnieper River as it flowed, unendingly cutting through the Ukraine. The erosion between East and West was symbolized in the icy water, a premonition of the divide that was meant to be.

  Chapter 16

  After a stop at the market, Kostya returned to Meredith’s townhouse just before eight o’clock and began making breakfast. It was relaxing to combine, stir, and heat basic ingredients to make foods that were comforting as well as filling. His mother had taught him to cook, and it had always been one way he felt connected to home, even when he wasn’t there.

  While he whisked a bowl of frothy eggs and cream, Scott shot through the door. Seeing Kostya working in the kitchen, he glared coldly and strode into the kitchen.

  “Is Meredith home?”

  Kostya seasoned the eggs with salt and pepper and stirred again.

  “Her shift ended at eight, but she will be a few minutes still.” Kostya frowned while assessing Scott’s look of relief. “Breakfast will just be a few more minutes, if you have time.”

  “Yeah, well, I should go up and shower. It’s been a long night.” He started backing out of the kitchen.

  “They keep you busy at the Senator’s office,” Kostya commented.

  Scott hesitated, watching Kostya, who continued preparing breakfast calmly. “Yes, they do. The business of government never sleeps, and all that.” Scott feigned nonchalance, but Kostya could see he was uncomfortable.

  “I wonder what the Senator would say if he knew the late nights you were keeping.” Kostya was stoic, not giving away anything.

  “I’d imagine he’d be like any other Senator on Capitol Hill,” Scott said defensively. “He’d appreciate the work but would have no idea what hours his staff was keeping to maintain the workload.”

  “Perhaps.” Kostya nodded. “Or maybe he would wonder who else was keeping such long hours.”

  “Exactly what are you implying?” Scott’s voice tensed and his face reddened.

  Kostya stared coolly at him. Putting down the spatula, he stood directly in front of Scott. “I am not implying anything.” Flipping the collar of Scott’s dress shirt, he stopped. “You need a new shade of lipstick, though. Meredith’s colors are more subdued.” Fuming inside, he calmly turned back to cooking.

  “Who do you think you are?” Scott lashed out, grabbing Kostya shoulder to face him. “You’re just a half-breed sniffing around for scraps. Leave my business alone,” he sneered, advancing into Kostya’s face.

  “You’d better go wash the scent of your ‘work’ off before Meredith gets home,” Kostya muttered, his feet unmoving despite Scott’s threating position.

  Scott stayed, glaring at Kostya for a moment. “Piss off,” he muttered and stormed out of the room. Kostya’s narrowed eyes followed Scott up the stairs. A few minutes later, Kostya heard water running upstairs.

  The whole situation made him furious. The man who lived here with Meri was using her. He used her connection to her father, to Washington D.C., and to money, but didn’t love her.

  And Kostya did.

  He had spent less than a week with her in five years’ time, but he loved her as deep
ly as if they had known each other for fifty years. He felt it in Cherkasy when they met, he knew it in Kiev when they made love, and he was awed by the power of it when he found her in Washington D.C. again. He could not envision a future without her.

  But Meredith had committed to Scott, and Kostya knew she would hold her pledge very dear. Her promises were not given lightly. But, if Meredith and Scott were truly in love, why did she wear the key to their lock around her neck? Why did she ignore such obvious clues that Scott was cheating on her?

  He couldn’t imagine having Meredith in his bed and ever wanting anyone else. He often imagined the last night they shared in Kiev—kissing her in the hall of her hotel, hoping the night wouldn’t end, and her inviting him to stay. Then, his entire being was fixated on one thing: Meredith—her desires, her feelings, her needs—she was the only thing that mattered.

  He felt the same focus today. And Scott was in the way.

  The smell of burning pancakes jolted him out of his thoughts. Although only lightly scorched, he quickly scraped the ruined batter off the griddle and started a new batch. He wanted only delicious food for Meri.

  On cue, she came through the door.

  “Something smells delightful,” she said.

  “Breakfast is almost ready. Did you want to clean up before you eat, or eat and then clean up?” Kostya’s stomach flipped as she entered the room.

  “Eat first, definitely,” she said, rushing closer and eyeing Kostya’s cooking. “Oh! Pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes!”

  Kostya couldn’t help smiling while he served up a plate for her. She poured herself a mug of coffee, doctored it with cream and sugar, and sat as Kostya set the plate in front of her. “This is heaven,” she said as she grabbed the maple syrup and liberally poured it over her cakes.

  “Did I hear something about heaven?” Kostya frowned as Scott came down the stairs. “Meredith must be home.” Scott had changed suits and was ready for work. He approached Meredith and kissed her firmly, sending a calculated message to Kostya. “Mmm, sweet maple syrup. That just gives me ideas.” He licked a drop seductively off his finger and winked at Meredith, who was stunned by his blatant innuendo in front of Kostya.