Fires of Kiev Read online

  What now? Surely there was something around that could help her escape.

  Taking inventory of the stripped-down room, she noted a small double bed, bolted to the floor, and a square end table. There were sheets, pillows, and a duvet comforter on the bed. Tying the sheets together to rappel down seven stories doesn’t seem likely. Nor does smothering a guard with a pillow.

  Moving to the bathroom, Meredith noticed it included just a small shower, toilet, and sink with exposed plumbing underneath. Come on, not even a plunger? There was no phone in the room and no television. A small window allowed light in, but it faced the brick façade of another building and overlooked an alley full of dumpsters. The sash was painted shut, and would not budge. So much for flagging someone down for help.

  She flopped down on the bed, reeling with frustration and without a plan. So much depended on what was Kostya going to do. If he fixed the encoder, the missile could be launched and hundreds of thousands of people would die. If he didn’t fix the encoder, and Vlasenko followed through with his threat, she would be killed. Although the idea of trading her life to save others was the heroic thing to do, in reality, feeling her own mortality was scary and surreal, especially when the outcome was in the hands of the man she loved.

  She scooted back on the bed and propped some pillows to lean against the headboard. She had nothing to do but wait. Her mind was still spinning through possible scenarios when there was a hesitant knock at the door. A petite young lady in uniform peered into the room.

  “Miss? I have been asked to get you something to eat. Can I bring you anything from the kitchen?” Her brown eyes darted around the room as if she were afraid something would jump out at her.

  Meredith’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since morning. She scooted to the edge of the bed and answered in Ukrainian. “Yes, please. I would love some bottled water and some food. What is good in the kitchen today?”

  The girl stepped forward. “Cook made a delicious beef stew, if you would like.” Meredith nodded and the girl slid up another step. “Miss, are you in trouble?”

  Meredith made eye contact with the girl and nodded slowly. The girl’s eyes arced around the room, making sure Meredith was conscious that they were being overheard.

  “The stew sounds wonderful,” Meredith clearly answered.

  The girl nodded. “I will return in just a few minutes, Miss.” She reached across Meredith and opened the drawer next to the bed and pointed to the paper and the pen left there.

  “Thank you.” Meredith smiled and nodded, and the girl stepped toward the door.

  As she was leaving, she heard the girl greet Vlasenko, likely louder than she normally would, to alert Meredith he was coming in. Meredith pushed the drawer closed and sat up just as Vlasenko was entering the room.

  He leaned against the wall, just observing her and chuckling to himself. It was as if he were delighted to be there and to have Meredith as his prisoner.

  “Stand up for me, dear.” Meredith looked at him, puzzled, so he repeated more insistently. “Stand up, Meredith.”

  Meredith stood slowly, trying to look as defiant and as brave as she could.

  “Turn.” He gestured with his fingers in a circle. “I want to see what an American woman looks like when she’s yielding herself to me.” He laughed again.

  Standing still, Meredith defiantly glared at him. Vlasenko just returned the stare then held up his pistol, cocking and aiming it at her head. “I said turn.”

  She took a breath, held her shoulders high, and rotated slowly around. She could feel his eyes examining every inch of her. God help her if he was going to force himself on her. Frightened but angry, she faced him again and purposefully focused on his eyes, forcing him to look at her face.

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded.

  Stepping in front of her, he grabbed her upper arm roughly forcing her inches from his face. His sour breath assaulted her as he bruised her arm with his tight hold.

  “Be careful how you ask what I want, Meredith. I may take more than you want to give.”

  Meredith’s face reddened and she jerked her arm away and backed away from him. “Take your hands off me,” she forced through clenched teeth. “You will pay if any harm comes to me.”

  Vlasenko folded his arms casually and leaned against the wall, shaking his head and chuckling in amusement. “Meredith, or shall I call you Dr. St. Claire? Hmm?” He was mocking her now. “No harm will come to you as long as I get what I have been promised.” He reached out and put a lock of her hair between his thumb and fingers.

  “Until then, I won’t harm a single hair on your head. Not. One. Single. Hair.” Breathing harder, he pushed the lock behind her ear in a strangely intimate way. After gazing at her for a moment, he regained his posture, turned, and stood at the front of the room. “Now, we must handle logistics. Since you will be with me for a while, we need to go over the rules.”

  “Oh, this should be fun,” Meredith said under her breath.

  “Silence.” Vlasenko raised his arm like he might backhand her. When Meredith flinched, he softened his voice and continued. “You may not have items in your possession that I have not approved. No electronics, no television, no telephones, no money…”

  “What about clothing, toiletries, tampons?” She added the last item just to get a reaction, and she was rewarded with a small grunt that was shaken off quickly.

  “Your bag has been taken out of the car downstairs, but we took the liberty of going through it and your purse and destroying anything that could be used to communicate with our enemies. I’m sure you understand.”

  “When can I get my bags?” Meredith said, frowning.

  “They should be here shortly. We will leave Poltava later this evening.” He glanced at his watch. “Be ready to travel at five o’clock. I will not be delayed if you are not ready.”

  “Leaving? Where are we going?” Meredith knew that a moving target was much harder to follow than one that stayed in the same place, but she also believed she knew where they were going—Kiev to prepare for the celebration.

  “You should not worry about the details.” Vlasenko waved her off as he turned toward the door. “We are going to a national celebration: a day which will be celebrated for years to come. It is unfortunate that you don’t have that dress you wore for your father’s fundraiser. You could wear it to toast the birth of liberty in Novorossiya, the eruption of fire for liberty.” He headed toward the door.

  “Oh, the hotel’s girl has been instructed to get you anything you would like to eat or drink. I think you’ll find we can be quite civilized if you cooperate.” As he left he whistled the Russian National Anthem.

  Just as Vlasenko left, a black-suited guard set her duffle bag and her purse carefully on the floor by her bed. She unzipped each to assess what was gone, and found that the items Vlasenko promised would be gone were indeed missing. She had clothing and toiletries, but nothing to communicate with the outside world.

  She threw a pillow against the headboard in frustration, but she knew there was little she could do. Her cell phone and computer were gone, Vlasenko was watching her like a convict in prison, and escape didn’t seem likely. She was starving, and worried, and her head was starting to hurt.

  Opening the drawer on the nightstand, Meredith pulled out the paper and pencil. When the girl brought lunch, what message could she send? If she had money, she might be able to convince the girl to get her a cell phone.

  Mama always told me to keep extra cash in case of emergency.

  She lunged back to her purse, digging into the back zippered pocket—the one that could easily be overlooked. Underneath a wad of receipts and two movie ticket stubs, she found it—her emergency cash, one-hundred American dollars.

  Writing a note in broken Ukrainian with the pen and paper from the drawer, Meredith requested a prepaid cell phone. It was risky for sure, but she felt that this might be the only chance she would have to communicate outside.
She folded the money into the note and sat back on the bed to wait.

  After a few minutes, one of the guards opened the door for the girl who was carrying a tray with Meredith’s lunch. The guard kept a watchful eye, so the exchange would have to be clever. Meredith stood, and went toward her.

  “I can take that,” she said as she grabbed onto the tray and brushed the girl’s hands with the note and money.

  The girl’s fingers pressed over the note. “I’ve got it, Miss,” she said, her brown eyes communicating with Meredith.

  “I’m not used to people waiting on me.” Meredith stepped back. She smiled at the girl. “I am very grateful.” The tray was carefully placed on the edge of the bed, in the absence of other furniture in the room, and the girl bowed her head slightly.

  “I will come back with tea around three-thirty, Miss?”

  “Yes, three-thirty will be perfect. We will be leaving around five, so that will give me time to enjoy tea,” Meredith said.

  The guard escorted the girl out of the room and closed and locked the door. Meredith sighed. At this point, it was out of her hands. She propped herself up on the bed and tore into the stew. She ate, knowing she would just have to wait and see what happened.

  Chapter 32

  From Cherkasy, the two guards had procured a Jeep to get Kostya to the silo site. It had snowed the night before, but the main roads were more or less clear. The remote areas toward the silo would not be, however, so taking the Jeep was a good idea. Kostya cooperated with the guards while moving out of the train and into the Jeep and planned to sit quietly on the bench seat in the back as they drove to the silo. By being a compliant hostage, he was getting access to the silo, and he wouldn’t have to go in covertly and disable the missile.

  How he was going to disable it while being watched every moment, he didn’t know.

  One thing was for certain, Meredith would be safe for the next two days. There was no way that Vlasenko would risk losing the leverage she represented before the nuclear missile could be launched on the twenty-first. She may be a hostage, but she would be kept safe until then.

  But after the twenty-first, all bets were off.

  Vlasenko said he would kill her if Kostya didn’t comply and fix the controls to allow a launch, and Kostya had no doubt Vlasenko would kill Meredith if the launch failed. At that point, there would be nothing to lose. The U.N. would rush in and destroy the other silo sites, and he would be arrested and tried in an international court for attempted mass murder of innocent populations. The power of Fire of Dawn would be sucked up in the vacuum of history, and they would be just one of the many rebel groups ruined fighting over the eastern Ukraine. Meredith would be sacrificed as a pawn in Vlasenko’s quest for power.

  Yet, success was not a better option in his mind. Kostya could hook up the encoder, use the algorithm to predict the missile code, switch on the butterfly valves, and enable the launch. And thirty minutes after the missile was launched, ten nuclear warheads, with the power of ten Hiroshimas each, would drop on cities within the seven-thousand-mile range. Vlasenko would take power with the threat of future missile strikes, and the country of Novorossiya would be carved out of the Ukraine.

  Kostya’s compliance would save Meredith at first, but her safety would not be guaranteed, especially under the threat of Vlasenko’s government.

  He needed a work-around. He needed to make Vlasenko think he was winning, when he was actually losing. And he needed help from the people he could not communicate with—TRUST.

  Soon after he made his call to Serhiy, the guards got instructions to take anything that could be used to communicate. His cell phone, credit cards, and laptop were taken. One of the guards even commented that it was a good thing he had already called his friend. Kostya had just smiled. If only he knew.

  Going down in the silo, he entered an environment of 1960’s machinery. Working on the components he had reverse engineered was like rebuilding an old car. Recreating each part to fit into the whole required a lot of patience and understanding of the technology of the time. A restorer wouldn’t put a modern engine into a Model T Ford unless they expected to change how the entire machine worked. The control center components were the same. He needed to work within the originally engineered parts. And back in the day, communication was done by radio.

  Was it possible that TRUST would monitor radio transmissions from the devices in the control center of the missile? If they did, he could send a message to appear as if the missile codes were being tested back and forth from the missile. It would look like a message from the missile itself, but TRUST would know he was the hand behind the message once it was decoded. TRUST had the algorithm from the chip, and they could plug what he transmitted into the algorithm. It was a long shot, but it was his only hope.

  Leaning his head against the roll bar of the Jeep, Kostya settled in for the drive, silently designing the solution. Once he got to the missile, he would need to be ready.

  Chapter 33

  As promised the girl came with the tea tray at three-thirty. She set it carefully down on the end of the bed.

  “Would you like me to pour, Miss?”

  Meredith was hopeful that she had done something with the message, but the girl gave no hint of it yet. “Yes, a cup of tea with sweetener and lemon would be nice.”

  “I know you asked for sweetener earlier,” she said and poured a cupful, her eyes caught Meredith’s, trying to say more. “Unfortunately, that kind has proven harder to find than I thought. The kitchen should have a packet for you to take with you when you go.” She looked hopefully at Meredith.

  “That is most generous,” Meredith answered. “I should quite enjoy having that for my tea later.” The girl sighed, relieved, and handed Meredith a cup, bowed slightly, and left. Meredith didn’t know how she was going to get it, but at least it seemed the girl was working on getting the phone for her.

  At a quarter until five, Meredith had packed her purse and her bag and was ready to walk out as soon as Vlasenko decided he was ready. Soon, one the guards entered. “I’ve been asked to restrain you until we reach the train.”

  “Is this really necessary?” she complained. He pulled her hands behind her, causing her to wince. “I am going without a fight.”

  “Not my call, Miss,” he replied and held the cuffs as he walked, pushing her in front of him, the other guard leading the way.

  They approached the elevator and the first guard pushed the call button. As they waited, the serving girl came up from behind carrying a heavy tray of dishes, also waiting for the elevator car.

  “Good evening, Miss. Sirs.” She nodded. The guards, recognizing her from earlier, grunted hello and turned to wait. When the car came, they all entered together. The girl, however, hit the tray on the door opening, dropping all her dishes onto the floor with a huge crash.

  “How clumsy of me,” she cried. She knelt on the floor by Meredith’s feet to pick up dishes and the men bent down to help, too. While they scooped up dishes onto the tray, Meredith felt the strap on her purse pull as something was placed inside. She continued looking forward until all the dishes were returned to the tray. The first guard even lifted the tray for her.

  “Thank you,” she said. “If my boss knew how clumsy I was, I would be in trouble.”

  “Don’t worry. We won’t tell anyone,” the second guard said, winking at her. She nodded and smiled to them as she exited the car in front of them on the main floor. Meredith glanced at her purse. It was fully zipped.

  They marched her through the lobby and out to a small blue sedan. The first guard opened the door for her to slide in back while the second guard entered the car on the other side. The first guard took the driver’s side and they sat and waited.

  “What are we waiting for?” Meredith asked. The men stayed silent. She huffed and sat back in her seat. After several minutes, a black SUV pulled around them, and the guard driving followed on the short drive to the train station.

  When they arrived
, the guard sitting next to her took off her handcuffs. “I will be right behind you with a gun pointed at your back. You try to run, I shoot you. You make a scene, I shoot you. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” Meredith said drily. There wasn’t any reason for them to be so crazy. She was being compliant.

  They walked swiftly through the small station, to the platform for the train heading to Kiev. Meredith paid attention to every detail she could. It was the seven twenty-five train leaving at nine o’clock and arriving in Kiev at twelve-oh-two. Judging from the crowd at the platform, it was going to be a full train.

  When the train arrived, they pushed their way to the economy section. The seats were crowded with little leg room, but they would only be on the train for about three hours. One of her escorts pushed Meredith into a row near the middle of the car by the window, and he sat in the aisle seat beside her. The other guard took the window seat in front of her, but placed a large bag in the aisle seat next to him to discourage passengers who still needed a seat. Loading took several minutes as passengers settled into their seats, but before long the car jolted forward and eased out of the station. Her two escorts relaxed slightly once they were underway, the guard next to her reading a newspaper and the one in front nodding off.

  I need to see about the cell phone. Meredith held onto her purse, but didn’t dare open it no matter how distracted the guards were. She shifted in her seat and glanced around the car for ideas.

  The guard next to her put down his newspaper.

  “What is wrong? Why are you moving around so much?”

  “I need to use the restroom,” she said. “I was looking for the lavatory.”

  He sighed. “It’s in the back of the car in front of us. I’ll go with you.”

  “For what reason? To listen to me tinkle?” Meredith rolled her eyes. “I can’t go anywhere. I’m on a train.”