After a great meal, the ZIL members sat around and discussed their first mission.
“All right, my guess is that our first objective is to evacuate Stacy,” Marilyn said.
…
“The roads, are they safe?”
“I’m not sure how dangerous. But the order to kill Stacy came from the highest levels of the government. And with they must have known by now that their attempt to kill Stacy didn’t succeed.”
“So possibly the roads and airports are being watched.”
“All right, so what should I do next? Am I supposed to stay in hiding?” Stacy asked.
“No. We evacuate you,” Marilyn said. “And ourselves too, of course.”
Evacuation… if airports and roads are being watched… Stacy closed her eyes. The only way out was via the Volga River?
But Stacy had not considered a possible ticket out that was normally unavailable to someone with her resources.
“We drive out normally. That’s what our Rolls Royce is for,” Naz said.
Naz was right. Nobody would think to stop a black Rolls Royce Phantom driven by confident looking young women.
“We’ll take the M2, then turn right and head in the direction of Kirov…”
Stacy was listening. “Wait a moment, the M2 doesn’t lead to Kirov. The M7…”
“Nope,” Naz was smiling. “It doesn’t. M7 heads east, but to Kazan. Missing the Kirov you’re thinking of, by four hundred kilometers.”
Stacy’s country was a big one, and distances in any direction were quite substantial. The wrong road could really take one off course very, very far.
“But M2 heads south.”
“Yes, that’s where we’re heading. First South, then West.”
Stacy was starting to get confused. Kirov and Kirov Oblast…
Oh wait, she was nervous and a little distracted yesterday. The Benefactor was already quite explicit while being vague. Shaykovka air base was an important Russian base, and it was to the West of Kaluga, Kaluga Oblast. The nearest town to Shaykovka air base was also called Kirov. Except it was a small town to the southwest of Moscow, rather than a big city to the northeast of Moscow. So you normally didn’t think of this small Kirov.
It would not be surprising that there would be a Soviet-era airship hangar in this region. Since there was aerospace industry in these parts. Not far to the south was Kyiv, where Antonov had its gigantic production plants that made jet planes for the Soviet Union. Antonov had also produced the Mriya, biggest jet aircraft in the world. Stacy imagined that they might once have planned to build more aircraft in this region.
…
“Even getting there is quite a distance. And the roads, I take it we’re not going to use the best roads?”
“Nope. We will use the best roads. At least for the first hour plus. It’s a Rolls Royce for a good reason,” Naz grinned. “Others are expected to make way for us.”
“This brazen…” Stacy felt impressed, yet was not completely confident that it would work.
“And if they don’t make way, I can handle it,” Naz flexed her arms, suggesting that she had some serious driving skills.
“Don’t forget, we’re armed,” Riley said casually.
“Oh, with your, what’s that?”
“It’s a taser gel pistol. The latest technology,” Riley replied. “Can stun humans and disable electrical devices. Even though I’m the only one using a pistol now, there are more weapons on board for everybody.”
“And you have me,” Angel said with a smile. “Ordinary brute force.”
“I will be following behind,” Marilyn piped up. “In the Lada.”
Stacy turned to look at Marilyn. Somehow she felt that although Marilyn was the most cheerful and least confrontational looking member of this group, she was also the most dangerous.
Marilyn seemed to have picked up the questioning vibe from Stacy.
“I have both nonlethal and lethal weaponry in my Lada,” Marilyn said. “As well as forged credentials from a couple of Central Asian dic- correction, family businesses to choose from. Ordinary police and soldiers in the RF won’t bother friendly allies.”
…
“Let’s get going this morning,” Naz said.
“Nope, our Benefactors have yet to speak to us five collectively. A formal group job offer of some sort I believe. Which they will do so in a day or two. I presume they are discussing among themselves right now.”
“So what do we do in the meantime?” Someone asked.
“You could see the sights and sounds of Moscow?” Stacy asked cautiously.
“Not you, Stacy. We really don’t want you to get spotted and killed,” Marilyn said.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stacy said. “And I have to be making phone calls on that internet phone. Got to tell my editor what’s going on with me. Then social calls to my relatives to tell them I’m fine. We’ve just had breakfast and I don’t want to spoil my relatives’ day, so I was planning to call from afternoon onwards.”
Then Stacy asked a leading question.
“You can leave me here alone; I won’t go out. But are you expecting an attack?”
Angel came and sat down opposite Stacy. Once again she did not bother to sit with legs together, so her pink panties showed up quite clearly under her cheerleading skirt.
“I don’t feel like seeing the sights of Moscow,” Angel said flatly. “Some folks are not nice to people with my looks, and I can’t fight with everyone.”
“Yes, what do you expect of Moskalis?” Riley said derisively. “Chauvinistic, imperialistic, overbearing…”
Riley was going to rant some more, but stopped suddenly when she remembered she was sitting in the presence of somebody who lived in Moscow – the person who had just been appointed her leader.
Stacy didn’t do or say anything. As a journalist, she was used to erasing her presence and making others feel relaxed with her around. That was undoubtedly what her Benefactors had meant about her Tranquility Aura. Her calming presence had dual purposes: Stacy could avoid being the target of any anger when the interviewee got emotional; it also made people comfortable enough to let down their guard and reveal their true feelings.
Riley sat back, not sure what to say or do next. She could certainly apologize for making nasty remarks, but she didn’t want to. And Stacy had shown no signs of taking offense. But now they were stuck in an awkward place…
Stacy noticed Naz wanting to say something, so she thought she should rescue Riley by shifting the speaker.
“Naz, are we expecting to be attacked?”
“No, I’m quite sure we weren’t followed,” Naz said. “And this facility is very low profile. Nobody pays it any attention. We also have high quality security features like perimeter alarms and reinforced doors…”
Marilyn was standing, and now she made a gesture with one palm pointing up and one hand on her hip.
“The assassins we foiled yesterday are contract killers, not secret agents with the resources of the state behind them. There’s no reason to expect an attack on this facility. I guess we’re staying in because we know our Benefactors want us to lie low, and because we’ve been in Moscow for a couple of weeks by now and don’t really care to go around anymore.”
Naz gestured with one hand at Marilyn and Angel. “I’m afraid the indigenous folks aren’t that nice to some of our teammates.”
Stacy stirred, remembering various incidents in Moscow. “You’ve been here for 2 weeks, and already ordinary people have been mean to you?”
Stacy sat still in her chair, relaxed yet not too comfortable. She maintained a still position with her hands held in front of her on her lap. This was a very neutral position that invited other people to take the initiative – such as saying what they wanted to say.
There was a moment of silence. Then Angel said, “it’s the militsya. They’ve asked me for identification two times. So far I’ve passed, but I don’t feel comfortable. Sooner or later they might figure out that these are fake documents.”
Riley nodded, her light blonde head bobbing up and down. “Angel’s been the only one to get that treatment thus far.”
Marilyn was sufficiently European looking that she would not always be identified as Central Asian.
“If she stays longer in Moscow, I’m sure she’ll run into more meanness soon,” Naz said diffidently. As somebody who looked entirely indigenous to European Russia, she hadn’t been bothered by the police. But she was not that comfortable walking around either, seeing her teammate being asked questions.
Stacy’s eyes narrowed slightly as she reflected on what to do next. This was the first time in her life she had been allocated a leadership role like this. The best role model she had was Dima, the lead editor at the New Paper. Dima handled a diverse workplace very well. What would he have done…
…
“Say, I can’t help wondering,” Naz asked. “Do you wear an overcoat indoors? Is it that cold?” Naz’s eyes shifted to something on the wall behind Stacy.
“There’s no need to turn up the heating,” Marilyn said hastily. “I’m also in a coat, and I’m fine.”
Stacy looked at her teammates.
This was quite curious. Why didn’t Marilyn want the heating turned up? She could just remove her coat. But then again, Stacy didn’t want to take her coat off either, so she was happy with the current, modest level of heating. It was not too warm.
Also she had noticed by now that although Riley, Naz and Angel were wearing extremely short skirts, they were all wearing skin colored leggings. So there was no need to turn up the heating.
Moscow heating season was from October to May. An overheated apartment in April was common. But the fact that they could control heating, suggested that this facility was not just new looking inside, it also had some modern work done. If this building still relied on Soviet era heating it wouldn’t be so easily adjustable.
This was another of many significant little details that Stacy added to her impression of the Benefactors. They didn’t just change the outside of the building. They overhauled the interior as well.
In Russia, a lot of authority figures – local governments, military base commanders, factory bosses – were good at making their facilities look good when subject to inspection. But this was really a Mind spell supposedly developed by a famous Russian, Grigory Potemkin. The interiors of a lot of ‘new’ or ‘cutting edge’ facilities were often in a state of severe disrepair, except that journalists and photographers didn’t get to see these.
It had been part of Stacy’s job to dig into the truth, so she was quite aware of such possibilities. She had thus developed a substantial resistance to Potemkin Mind spells.
…
Riley touched her head idly after another minute of silence. “Maybe we should just do our own thing for now. I don’t think we will be attacked, and I have made sure our alarms and sensors are working. Marilyn?”
“Everything is locked down and tight,” Marilyn said. “Really do not think a bunch of thugs can just rush us without us knowing, or at least having a few minutes’ notice.”
“We won’t be able to stand up to a sustained attack, of course,” Naz said. “And I am a bit – just a bit – concerned about that.”
Marilyn quashed that immediately. “Our mission was quite clear. Opponents are a small group of criminals assembled from different places, who didn’t know each other. We are not expecting to be stormed by a hundred riot police with armored trucks and helicopters.
And now that we know our new leader – Stacy – has United States citizenship, we know that’s not going to happen. Any flashy official action will bring too much scrutiny. So I think this place is safe. You can leave me and Angel to defend it if you want to go sightseeing, Naz.”
“Nah, I’m good indoors,” Riley said.
“Don’t like treading on the enemy’s ground?” Naz asked with a grin. “You know, it’s not all dictatorship and tyranny out there, you know. There are plenty of perfectly decent people, lots of culture and history too.”
“Like that Lenin State Library of the USSR?” Riley grouched. “Having to show ID to get in…”
“The facade for the Leninka didn’t get changed since it would have been expensive,” Naz replied. “People have.”
Stacy was listening to all these, her hazel eyes shifting left and right rapidly and appearing to change color because of the way they caught the light.
Now this was interesting. The Russian State Library was quite an important place in Stacy’s mind. Despite censorship, tyranny and dictatorship, Russians did maintain a reading culture. Books and information was still very important to people in these parts. It was nearly on par with the New York Public Library, a place that Stacy had not visited in some years…
And the fact that Riley mentioned the library was also interesting. Despite her general attitude of dislike towards Russia, she had made the effort to visit the library. Which your average European tourist would not. And the fact that Naz seemed to know about the Leninka…
A sound came from the next room, where Stacy had met her Benefactors electronically.
“That’s an extra loud alert,” Riley noted. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t set that.”
“I did,” Marilyn said. “And it’s only for a select few communications. Might be a mission.”
Marilyn went off, leaving Stacy with three teammates.
Angel stretched. “I’m going to the gym,” she said and departed.
“There is a gym?” Stacy could not help asking.
“Very small, just a couple of machines, a treadmill and one rowing machine. But plenty of weights.” Angel looked as though she only cared about the weights, while she was assuming Stacy would care more about the machines.
Actually Stacy wasn’t even the type who might use gym machines. Her main exercise was yoga. Which was impossible to do without taking off her coat, and she didn’t want that.
Silence followed for about a minute, then Riley excused herself. She went to a computer. Naz headed towards the garage.
Stacy sighed. It was still morning and she didn’t want to spoil anybody’s day. Except of course Dima. She had to call him soon… just not too early in the morning when surely he had other things to do… Oh wait, Babushka would be already awake. She should call Babushka first to see if the nasty men in her apartment had left…
But Marilyn’s voice started calling everyone to come back. So they assembled again.
Marilyn was holding some pieces of paper in her hand.
“We have just been offered a mission near Moscow!” Marilyn announced happily.
“Can I see what’s printed there?” Stacy asked. As an academic and journalist, Stacy was very good at reading quickly. It would take her much less time to read than it would take Marilyn to read out the text.
“Sorry,” Marilyn handed over the papers. “By the way, you should be doing this the next time. Once our team is formally set up, they told me it is the Leader who is supposed to receive mission proposals.”
“Then I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” Stacy replied. “Wait! What are those ridiculously fake names?”
“That’s my handiwork,” Marilyn grinned. “The Benefactors or whoever set the mission redacted the original names, leaving nothing but black areas. But we can’t possibly refer to our own missions as black spot 10 pixels, broad black line for 50 pixels, black patch 20 pixels. So I added my own names!”
Naz came over and read out the names Marilyn had subsituted for the redacted black areas.
“Stealsky Oligarchenko Corruptovich Kleptocratov?” Naz started laughing.
“Let’s not have something so awkward,” Riley said.
“We could call him SOCK if you like,” Angel suggested. “I do like the idea of socking bad people.”
“No, let’s just shorten it to Stealsky for our internal reference. We’ll rotate to the next name in sequence if the next mission also has redacted names. So this will be called the Stealsky mission from now on, all right?”
Everyone agreed by nodding their heads.
(This leads to ZIL Side Stories 001b How the Bad Guys got their Names. If you’d like to read more about how ZIL members name their opponents, just click here. If not, just read on.)
[Because this Side Story contains spoilers, the link will not be active until the right time.]
Riley frowned. “All right, so our first mission is to take on Stealsky? Even before we get out of the Moscow area?”
“Yes and no. We will still be in the Moscow metro area, but outside the Moscow Ring Road.”
“Does it involve any more violence?” Riley asked cautiously.
“It’s basically a sneak in and photograph mission.”
Riley didn’t reply, but her body language relaxed.
Standing next to Stacy, Naz read more slowly, but she was just as engaged with the material. She paid particular attention to the pictures of a big house taken from the outside.
“All right. This is a pretty big villa. We’re supposed to sneak in, take photos, get out.”
“What’s so special?”
“You know the Amber Room?”
“Oh yes, that story?”
“There was some talk about this being covered up because the Soviet Air Force bombed Koningsberg castle and destroyed the Amber Room by accident?”
“Nope, if this information is true, the cover up was that the Amber Room was destroyed. The castle on top was destroyed, not the deep vaults below. But since ruins were everywhere and the Red Army was in a hurry to take Berlin, nobody spent any serious time or effort trying to dig down to the deepest vaults.
Then after Konigsberg was taken over and renamed Kaliningrad, the Soviets in charge didn’t really care about German ruins. And since this enclave was so militarized, they didn’t have much in the way of construction and excavation equipment. So they just opted for the cheap and easy solution – tell Moscow the Amber Room couldn’t be found. Otherwise their troops would have had to dig out the whole pile of ruins by hand, without the certainty that the Room was actually underneath.”
“Oh yes. In those days, nobody would have wanted to tell Stalin that the Amber Room was underneath, get lots of soldiers to dig nonstop, and wind up with nothing to show Stalin after weeks of digging. No way.”
“Anyway, apparently Stealsky found the Amber Room in a warehouse during the dying days of the Soviet Union. Along with a whole load of other treasures.”
“How did it appear in that warehouse?”
“… nobody knows. The people in charge of the warehouse had been suddenly denounced and sent to Siberia, so all records were lost decades ago.”
“Well, are we supposed to recover it?”
“Nope. We don’t have suitable storage facilities. Nor the expertise to steal and protect the brittle amber properly. And it would also draw attention to us ZIL members.”
“So our job is simple. The tip says Stealsky has set up the Amber Room in his house. So we’re supposed to sneak in. Take lots of photos. Identify the place where it was stored – photos of house close up, number and full address. And let the authorities know about this.”
“Lets’ curry favor with the government by sending this directly to the chairman of the Duma. Something good might come out of it,” Marilyn proposed with a mischievous grin.
“Are you kidding me?” Stacy demanded and Marilyn shrank back a little.
Even though Stacy didn’t consider it appropriate to bring in personal feelings when writing reports, it felt somewhat odd to be writing a report and sending it to the man who had supposedly just ordered her death.
Angel tossed her hair. “This is a mission. Do we need to take a vote?”
“Me, yes,” Naz said. “Sounds fun and doable.”
Marilyn raised a hand to show assent.
“I’ll do it,” Riley said. “Even though I don’t like Russia, the Amber Room is a wonderful piece of world heritage. We can’t let a local Stealsky hog it. Better to put it in a museum for all to view.”
“Reporting this to the government is the right thing to do, even if I don’t like them very much,” Angel said. “It’s definitely worth checking this out.”
Now that four people had voiced their opinions, everyone looked at Stacy.
“So, you want to do it, Stacy?” Naz asked. “If the Amber Room were recovered, I’m sure that Chairman will look good. Even though he didn’t actually do anything.”
Stacy shrugged her shoulders.
“Even if the people at the top are scum, there are some low level state employees – art restorers, professors, craftsmen – who actually do care for valuable works of heritage. I would really like to put this important work of art back into the hands of people who do care, and who can safeguard and preserve it properly for all to enjoy.”
“Looks like we all voted to take this mission,” Riley concluded.
XXX
Before they embarked on the mission, Stacy had to tidy up one matter. And so she called Dima.
“Dima,” she told her editor, “I’m sorry but some people tried to kill me last night. I will need to take an indefinite leave of absence from my job.”
Dimitry didn’t seem fazed. He understood right away. Stacy signalled to her editor that she was free and currently safe but her life was under threat, so she had to go into hiding and would not be back to work or home anytime soon.
As Stacy hung up, she noticed Riley looking at her.
“He’ll take me back if things change. But for now, I’m out,” Stacy said.
“You can still be roving and contributing articles?”
“Well, firstly my Benefactors wanted my total commitment. And I gave it. On board the MMM, we’re still in the business of gathering truth and facts and uncovering lies so I’m completely willing to commit entirely to this new job. And even if I have some spare time, Dima told me, don’t write reports or correspondence that can be tied to specific regions. That’s dangerous. Because it will reveal where I have been, the authorities will start putting one and one together and eventually we will be found out. So he said he will at most accept brief facts or fact checking work from me, but not publish articles with my name or any identification. And he warned me against publishing anything with location – whether for other publications, or on personal blogs or social media.”
“He’s good.”
“Been in the business for years, ever since the twilight of the Soviet Union. He has the extremely unenviable, completely thankless, sometimes unsuccessful job of keeping his journalists alive!”