"That won't last long," Stephanie said. "We'd better enjoy it while we can."
"We haven't done anything together for fun in quite a while. I thought we could all have lunch at that new restaurant in Georgetown. If we go early enough, we'll get a good table."
"That's a great idea," Nick said through the open door.
He came into the room with Selena. They took seats on a long leather couch facing Elizabeth's desk.
"Where are Ronnie and Lamont?" Selena asked.
"Getting checked out at Walter Reed."
"What are we looking at this morning?" Nick asked.
"I was just telling Steph things are quiet."
Selena said, "This may change that."
She handed Sokolov's letter with the map and photograph to Elizabeth.
Stephanie said, "I told you it wouldn't last long."
Elizabeth examined the photograph.
"A stone pillar? What's that on it?"
"Two kinds of writing. An early version of hieroglyphics and a variation of Linear A. That picture was taken in Egypt. I've only made a partial translation but I think we have to follow up on it."
"What does it say?" Steph asked.
Selena told them what she had gotten so far.
Elizabeth looked at her as if she'd been smoking something.
"That is the most bizarre thing I have ever heard you say. This inscription is about Atlantis?"
"It's possible."
"Why do you think that? It could be about the Minoans. They were surrounded by water."
"That's what Nick said. That would make sense except for the part about moving heavy stones using an unknown force. Judging from the letter, the Russians are taking it seriously. That's why we have to pay attention. We need to look for that pillar."
Stephanie said, "What if this Yuri Sokolov isn't who he claims to be? The letter could be misdirection on the part of the Russians."
"Why send it to Selena?" Nick asked.
"It could be a trick to draw the team out."
"And I thought I was paranoid."
Steph played with gold bracelets on her left wrist. "You know they'd love to create trouble for us."
"Sure, but there are easier ways to do it."
Elizabeth said, "Steph, see what you can find out about Sokolov. Also the friend of the Czar mentioned in the letter. There might be a record of him."
"I'll get right on it."
"Selena, how long will it take you to translate the rest of that inscription in the photograph?"
"I don't know. I'll start working on it right away."
There goes lunch, Elizabeth thought.
"I guess I'll have to settle for that."
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.