The Speculist

Chapter Seven

Part I

Chapter Seven

There stood the old man, looking the same as ever. Or maybe a little tired. He had dark patches under his eyes and his shock of wavy silver hair had flattened somewhat and was a dirtier gray color. He was stout and broad-shouldered as ever, however. And Reuben had almost forgotten how tall he was: the old man stood a good half a head taller than Sergei, who was next to him, smiling broadly.

"Reuben!" he said, stepping into the room. "I am so glad to see you are sitting up. How you are feeling, my friend?"

"I’m better, thanks."

They both approached the bed. The old man took Reuben’s hand.

"We meet again," said Reuben.

"I’m glad you’re all right, son. So is Betty. You had us worried there for a few days."

"How is Betty?"

The old man nodded, seeming not to hear the question. Sergei picked up a chair from against the wall and set it by the bed for the old man. Then he pulled the rolling stool around for himself.

"So, ah, anyway," Reuben began, "I take it you two have met?"

Sergei laughed. "Mr. Keyes and I first met long time ago, Reuben. I maybe know him longer than you?"

"You think?" said Reuben.

The old man turned to Sergei. "Haven’t you two told each other anything? I’ve known Reuben, here, his entire life. I’m his godfather." He sat down.

"Oh," said Sergei. He digested this fact for a moment, a few odd pieces apparently falling into place. "I did not realize that. Reuben, Mr. Keyes and I first met in 1979, it was a —"

"Forgive me, Sergei," Reuben interrupted. "I’d like to hear the whole story, and a lot more besides. But can we please start with how I got here? And what happened to Ksenia?"

Sergei sat down. Reuben realized that he also looked tired.

"Of course. Pardon me." He looked at the old man, seeming to grasp for where to begin.

"The girl is fine," Keyes said. "She told us the whole story. That was an ugly business." He shook his head. "She knows you saved her life, Reuben. She’s very grateful."

Reuben nodded. "I did what I could for her. But I don’t think I saved her life. I just bought her some time. Whoever got us out of there saved her life." He looked towards Sergei. "Not to mention mine. I think you get credit for that."

Sergei looked uncomfortable. He stood up and walked to the window.

"No," he said after a moment. "For me there is small credit. And much blame."

He turned and looked at Reuben.

"Ksenia has told me that, when you sent her out of car, you ask her to call me. I am ashamed, Reuben. What you do not know is this: was already my job to watch you, to keep you safe. Mr. Keyes ask me — before I ever meet you, before you come to Moscow — he told me you are coming and I will be expected to watch you and keep you safe until he arrives."

Reuben looked towards the old man, who would not meet his gaze. He wanted to be annoyed with Keyes, wanted to protest that he was capable of taking care of himself and that he didn’t need any protection. But under the circumstances, the argument seemed a little weak. He decided to let it go.

"So that’s how you knew about Ksenia? You had people watching me?"

"I know about Ksenia from Pavel. Since you are staying at Mezh, I keep an eye on you through my contacts there. Pavel manages health club at Mezh. One day I go for sauna; this is just before you arrive. I ask him to keep watch out for you. To let me know what you are doing. He agrees."

Reuben weighed this.

"He managed the health club?," he asked, after a moment. "That explains why I never saw him. I never went in there."

Reuben considered this a little further.

"That’s interesting," he said. "I had him pegged for more of a player than that."

Sergei walked back towards the bed. "Health club is important job," he said. "Good exposure, many good contacts. In Russia, much business is transacted in such places. Many important decisions are made at Mezh sauna. And in bar, no? Pavel was doing very well for boy his age."

"So what about Ksenia?" Reuben asked. "Was she in on it? Just following Pasha’s orders?"

"No," Sergei said. "He is told that you are often going into casino, so he ask her about you. Just making talk from brother to sister. Has she seen you? What does she think of you? And what do you know — she has seen you, many times. She tells how you come in and" — he smiled weakly — "hit on her. Pavel is very interested. He tells her is good idea for her to make new friend, American friend. She must be careful, but is good idea."

"But that’s as far as it went?" Reuben asked.

"You tell me, Reuben," he answered, sitting back down on the stool. "Ksenia went with you that day because she wanted to be with you, or she was spying for her brother?"

"I can’t say for sure. She certainly didn’t know about the Chechens."

Sergei and the old man shared a puzzled glance.

"Reuben," said Sergei, "where do you get idea that those men were Chechen?"

"I can’t remember. Somebody from the office told me, I think."

Sergei shook his head.

"Well, somebody from the office was wrong," said Keyes. "Those guys are from Georgia. The ringleader is named Tengiz Kolkhi. His uncle is a fellow called Markku, if that name means anything to you."

Reuben considered this. So the Czar had a name. And he was Georgian, not Chechen. It was the sort of thing he should have been aware of, especially after spending all that time watching them. He eyed the old man.

"No, I never heard of any Markku."

"He’s a powerful man. He controls or has a hand in just about everything that goes on in the Caspian. Legit or not."

Reuben nodded.

"Some buddy of yours, no doubt?"

"No friend of mine," said Keyes.

Reuben looked at the old man impatiently.

Keyes cleared his throat

"Well, yes," he said after a moment, "I’ve had dealings with him. A few years ago. To tell you the truth, he’s always struck me as pretty level-headed for a man in his…line of work. Anyhow, he was smart enough to send Kolkhi to Moscow to run things for him there. Got him as far as he could from Georgia. You may have gathered, Kolkhi has a reputation for being a dangerous character."

"Yeah," said Reuben. "I gathered. So that charming game he had us playing, that’s not a standard thing?"

"Is standard for Kolkhi," said Sergei.

"I’ve got a full dossier on him and his gang if you’d like to look at it later."

Reuben snorted.

"Now where would you get your hands on something like that, old man?"

Keyes shrugged. "I’ve made a few friends over the years."

"No kidding," Reuben said, with a trace or irony. "Well I wish I’d seen that file. I guess it would have saved me some wear and tear. And there wouldn’t be a certain two-word phrase hanging in the air right now."

"What phrase is that?" asked Keyes.

"Rookie mistake."

The old laughed heartily at that. Sergei, however, looked serious.

"Reuben," he said, " I don’t know what is ‘rookie,’ but was I who made serious mistake, not you. I still don’t know why you were conducting surveillance of Kolkhi, but I made mistake that tipped him off. I ask Pavel to keep an eye on you in hotel, and he notice that you spend too much time in Café Vienna. Pavel was not stupid. He knows who I am, and that gives him idea who you are."

"So Pasha was working for Kolkhi? I seem to remember he said something about that."

"Pavel was playing dangerous game. Mezh hotel is Russian operation, run by Russian outfit. Pavel works for them. Mezh tolerates the presence of friendly gangs like Georgians. Other gangs they work with."

"Chechens?" Reuben asked.

"No," Sergei shook his head and half-smiled. "Not for long time. Not at Mezh. But, when they were there, two years ago or more, they did often go to Café Vienna. So your information is not wrong, just out of date."

"Right. So Pasha was trying to get in good with Kolkhi. He saw me at the Vienna and correctly deduced that I was watching the Georgians."

"Da."

"I get it. He’s been doing the odd favor for Kolkhi, and now here’s his chance to deliver him something substantial. A chance to make a name for himself."

"Da. Yes. He knows he must do this away from Mezh, or he risks that his real bosses will learn that he is working also for Kolkhi. So when Ksenia tells him that you have asked her to go with you to Museum of Cosmonautics, he sees his chance."

"So is it fair to say that he didn’t know about the Russian Roulette game?"

Sergei shrugged. "Everyone who knows anything about Kolkhi knows about this game. But Pavel did not know that game would be played that night, or that he would have to play."

"Thinking things through was evidently not the boy’s strong suit," said Keyes. "He never considered the fact that he was exposing the girl to danger, or that he might be in danger, until it was far too late."

Reuben sighed. He felt a great weariness coming over him. Talking about this was exhausting. But there was more to cover.

"I’m guessing," he said, "that Kolkhi’s goons went after Ksenia as soon as Pasha and I walked into the building."

"Yes," said Sergei.

"Okay. And I know what happened next. So just tell me, please: how did you get us out of there?"

"Intelligence man always thinks he is smart," Sergei began. "This is great danger of being in KGB. Or in CIA, no? When I ask Pavel to watch you, I think I am smart. Then when Pavel mentions to me that he thinks you may be watching Kolkhi, I think I am smart to tell you that you are being watched in hotel. I do not say those words, but you received message, eh, Reuben?"

"I sure did."

Sergei smiled. "I did not want to say too much, but I wanted to say something, knowing that you would probably see risk and decide to lay low or abort operation."

"Only there was no operation," said Reuben. "I was just killing time."

"Well, you see, then," Sergei continued. "You think you are smart, same as I. You can conduct surveillance only to satisfy curiosity, and no one will know. Probably would have worked, too. If I do not mention you to Pavel, he does not mention you to Kolkhi."

"Maybe you’re both just a little too smart for your own good," said Keyes.

"Maybe smart isn’t really the right word," said Reuben.

"How about clusterfuck?" Keyes offered. "That’s what this was. Each of us made at least one essential contribution. If I hadn’t told Serge to keep an eye on you, he would never have talked to the kid."

"Da," said Sergei. "Was clusterfuck. Everybody smarter than everybody else; everybody taking steps to make sure no one is hurt; people end up getting shot."

"Didn’t you KGB guys have your own phrase for a botched operation?" the old man asked.

"Da. We would call such an operation an Amerikanski. Also sometimes a Bay of Pigs."

"I guess that’s fair," said Reuben, "seeing as Kolkhi’s game is called Russian roulette."

Sergei nodded.

"So then I begin to have doubts," he continued. "Doubts are other great curse for intelligence man. Always drive me crazy, thinking did I miss something? When I ask Pavel does he know what you are doing on this particular day, at first he says he does not know. Then he admits that he is driving you and Ksenia to museum. And I begin to wonder if I need to send someone to watch him."

"A spy to keep an eye on your spy," said Reuben

"Da, is standard Russian practice. A little insurance, like placing bet in the basket on American roulette table. I have doubts. I wonder if I was smart to put trust in Pavel in first place. And I wonder why he is slow to admit that he is driving you. Still, I don’t expect anything to happen. I just do it. For precaution.

"My man calls me in early afternoon; tells me that you have left Ukraina with Ksenia and Pavel and that he is following you on Prospekt Mira. Pavel lets you out near Museum. All seems normal. Later I get call that Pavel has returned and you are leaving VDNKh together."

Sergei stood up again and walked to the window again. He looked out for a while, and then turned back to face them.

"Short time later, I get another call. Pavel has driven not to Ukraina, but to old workshop for garment makers. I know this place, know that it belongs to Kolkhi. And I know that ground floor of this building is where he most often plays his game. My man reports that Ksenia was allowed to leave, and then brought back.. I tell my man to stay close by.

"Immediately I try to call colleague, who has connections with Moscow City Militia."

"Militia," Reuben repeated, puzzled.

"City cops," said Keyes.

"Da," Sergei continued. "Relations have never been good between intelligence division and police force. I call FSB, say it is emergency, and manage to get captain. I don’t know him, but he has heard of me. I tell him to send out militia immediately. But he says that he can not. Not against Kolkhi.

"I tell him that Kolkhi is holding American and there will be serious repercussions if this man dies. He does nothing. Then I tell him that this American is son of Mr. Keyes — I did not know you were godson at the time I said this. When I tell him this, he decides to call his superior. It is simply good luck that his superior is former colleague. But this man knows that Mr. Keyes has no son. So I tell him that this is American, important American, friend of Mr. Keyes. I tell him that later he will not want to be the man who could have saved this American’s life and did not. So he agrees to send militia. But he tells me I must not go there; and that I must tell my man to leave. He can give order to Militia that will not be traced back to him, but he doesn’t want Kolkhi to know that FSB has moved against him. My man and I are not FSB, but we were KGB, and that’s too close."

"That’s ridiculous," said Keyes. "Hell, Markku is former KGB."

"Nyet," Sergei responded sharply, followed by more Russian that Reuben couldn’t understand. "Mr. Keyes, Markku was not KGB. He was NKVD, was right hand of Lavrenti Beria."

The old man’s eyes grew wide.

"Oh?" he said.

Sergei looked away.

"You guys have lost me," Reuben said.

Keyes cleared his throat again.

"The NKVD were Stalin’s secret police. Think of them as the Soviet SS. Under Beria, they performed assassinations, a lot of them. But they also did large scale exterminations, killing thousands of people at a time."

Sergei turned back and looked at Keyes.

"Da. This man is not sensible businessman as you have said. He is murderer, mass murderer. His nephew is a very small man compared to him."

"I know that KGB has done much evil," Sergei continued. "So has CIA."

He turned to Reuben.

"We are not children, here, da? Some of the evil that is done is necessary, and some is done because evil men find ways to do it. But KGB and NKVD are not the same. One evil is different from other evil."

"I…apologize, Sergei," said the old man. "I didn’t mean any offense. "

"Is okay. But Mr. Keyes, you should know who you deal with. You should know what they have done."

"You’re right. The dossier only detailed Markku's activities beginning in the early sixties. It said that he had previously held an administrative position with an intelligence agency. I assumed too much about what that meant. "

Sergei turned back to Reuben.

"How is it that you are CIA agent and you know nothing of NKVD?"

Reuben blinked.

"I’m not sure. Russia was never really my area. Obviously. But still...to tell you the truth, it all starts to sound kind of familiar." He wearily raised his hand to gesture towards the bandage on his head.

"I’m not a hundred percent sure of my memory."

"Of course," said Sergei.

"Please continue with your story," said Reuben.

Sergei sighed, gathering his thoughts.

"So I call my man and tell him to clear out, that others are on the way. Then I go there myself, but I keep my distance. I wait a long while for militia to come, Reuben. I am sorry. I thought they would never come."

"Why are you sorry? They came, didn’t they?"

"Yes, but while I wait, you are being shot and shot again. You were almost killed. Ksenia might also have been killed. And the boy was killed."

"The boy had it coming," said Keyes. "You can’t waste any grief on him."

"I can," said Sergei, "and I do. Is not waste, Mr. Keyes. He did much wrong, there is no question. But how does young man like Pavel become what he was? Maybe at first he wanted to do something good, be good man. But how? If he becomes criminal, there is money and power. And pride. So he becomes criminal. I meet him, do I say don’t be criminal? Do I say be honest man? I do not. I hire him because he is gangster. So he is treacherous and murderous and a liar…what did I expect? What did anyone expect."

"I expect people to be responsible for their actions," said the old man.

"Yeah," Reuben said. "That’s true. But sometimes people have to make some shitty choices." He thought about the girls at the Mezh.

"Sergei, I think you may be right about Pasha. The kid was a mess. He tried to kill me, and I think he would have even killed Ksenia to save himself. But there was something else there. Anyway, whatever he did wrong, he’s paid for it."

Keyes nodded.

"In any case, Sergei, you have nothing to feel bad about," Reuben continued. "It sounds to me like you did everything you could. There’s no point talking about how they could have killed Ksenia or myself. Hell, Ksenia could have turned me down when I asked her out; Pasha could have decided against selling me out. That’s all beside the point. The point is, you saved my life."

Reuben extended his hand towards Sergei.

"I owe you one, buddy."

Sergei walked across the room and took his hand. He shook his head.

"I did not do all I might have," he said. "But I’m glad I was able to help,"

"While I am waiting for militia to arrive, I call Mr. Keyes, to tell him what is happening. Only then do I learn that he is already in Russia. The secretary cannot patch him through, but she says she will give him urgent message."

"I was out of the pocket just for a few minutes," said Keyes. "I called Serge about, what, ten minutes later? He explained the situation to me. He told me where you were, and that you might need medical attention. And that you would definitely need to be moved to a secure location. This turned out to be less of a tall order than Serge expected, because I was already setting this place up. Then I called a guy I know who owns a private ambulance service. So there was an ambulance with paramedics on the scene a few minutes before the Militia arrived."

"Was good thing," Sergei explained, "that ambulance didn’t arrive too long before militia. Was big surprise for Kolkhi’s men. Otherwise they might do something about it, but they are completely overcome by police when they arrive. Militia used element of surprise and superior numbers to take charge of the compound quickly and with no bloodshed. None of Kolkhi’s men, nor Kolkhi himself, could believe that anyone would actually move against them.

"I kept promise and stayed out of sight. By making calls behind the scenes, I make sure that both you and Ksenia are taken away safely to clinic. Other ambulance comes and takes away Pavel’s body. Then captain of militia offers sincere apology to Kolkhi, and quickly withdraws his troops. He drinks a vodka with Kolkhi before leaving."

"Of course no arrests were made, and no reports written," said Keyes.

"I still wouldn’t want to be that militia captain," said Reuben

"Da, we are fortunate that such a man was on duty. A man who would accept this assignment. Most would not."

Olga entered the room looking quite stern.

"Mr. Keyes," she said, "Dr. Chevlenko has asked me to remind you that this institution, though small, has strict regulations the same as any large hospital. Perhaps even more strict. The doctor would like to speak with you about this. Now."

Reuben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But the old man just smiled in a good-natured way and stood up.

"Of course, Olga," he said. "Come Sergei, I think I may have got us into some trouble with the Big Man." He turned to Reuben.

"Get some rest, son. You need it. We’ll talk again soon."

He turned and started out the door.

"See you again soon, Reuben," Sergei said hastily, and followed Keyes out.

"Wait," Reuben protested, but it was too late. They were gone. But what was the old man doing setting up a clinic in Russia? And where was Ksenia now?

"I had some more questions," Reuben protested.

Olga took the control and leaned his bed back.

"There are always more questions, Mr. Stone," she said.

Posted by Phil at March 1, 2004 12:00 AM | TrackBack