| |
Major Petrov stood at attention, suppressing the urge to scratch his nose. He waited for his superior to finish reading the report on Anya Volkova.
Colonel Yurchic Ivanov worked in the Fifth Directorate of the Main Directorate of the General Staff, the GRU. When foreigners thought of Russian spies, they usually thought of the old KGB, now transformed into the FSB and SVR. Those feared organizations were puny compared to the GRU.
The tentacles of Russia's largest intelligence agency spread like poison throughout the world. The GRU was supposed to concentrate on foreign intelligence, leaving domestic spying to the FSB. It was a fine distinction that meant little, especially when military personnel were involved.
There were twelve official directorates in the GRU, augmented by special units used for assassinations and foreign destabilization tactics. Ivanov's Fifth Directorate was responsible for military operations intelligence.
Petrov had been assigned to watch General Stepanov as a matter of policy. In the new Russia, as in the old, everyone in positions of importance within the military was assigned a watcher. The GRU had been created by Stalin during World War II. Stalin was long gone, but GRU policies and tactics remained the same.
Ivanov held a cigarette pinched upright between a nicotine-stained thumb and forefinger as he read. He was a large man. His shoulders pushed against the seams of his uniform jacket. His eyes were black, cold. His face was an unpleasant face, pockmarked with acne scars, without humor, a face that told you to be careful.
Ivanov took a deep drag, leaned back in his chair, and blew smoke up at the ceiling. He looked at Petrov.
"You say in your report you suspect Stepanov intends to make Volkova his mistress."
"Yes, sir."
"You are to be commended for your observations. This is useful information. However, though it is a breach of conduct, it is not an unusual situation for a senior officer like Stepanov to take a subordinate for a lover. What made you decide to follow her?"
"Stepanov has given her access to the most secret information. It is highly unusual for someone of her rank to be given such responsibility. I felt that closer observation was necessary."
"Because?"
"A hunch, sir. She is arrogant. I don't trust her. She lacks respect."
"You mean she lacks respect for you, don't you, Major? Never mind, you needn't answer that."
Petrov felt himself flush.
"I identified the man she met in the park and later in the café. His name is Vlas Sokolov. He is a known troublemaker, a dissident. He and Volkova pretended to go separate ways before meeting again in the café. That is highly suspicious."
"I agree, Petrov. Bring him in. I want to know what he and the Colonel talked about."
"Yes, sir. Shouldn't we bring her in as well?"
"Do I need to remind you that she is now an important symbol of our military? We will wait until we find out why she met this man, Sokolov."
"Yes, sir."
"That's all."
Petrov saluted and left the room. Ivanov stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. He contemplated how he might use Petrov's report to his advantage.
Sexual liaisons always provided opportunities for pressuring the individuals involved, as long as proof of impropriety was available. That wouldn't be hard, Stepanov was married. If Petrov was right and Stepanov was fucking her, film of them in bed would give him what he needed.
Petrov was a plodder, but he'd shown good initiative in following Volkova. It would be interesting to see what the interrogation of Sokolov revealed. Ivanov's intuition told him there was something there. Why else would they have acted the way they did? As if they were worried someone might be watching them?
Ivanov had to be careful pursuing this investigation. General Stepanov was a powerful man, close to the president. Colonel Volkova was now well known to the public, the sister of a fallen hero, the poster woman for recruitment into the services. She had the approval of the president and was clearly marked for future promotion.
If Stepanov found out about the investigation, Ivanov might find himself stationed somewhere cold and harsh, a long way from the comfort of his Moscow apartment. He could always shift responsibility to Petrov if things became awkward, but it was much better if it never came to that.
He picked up his phone to order surveillance installed in Stepanov's apartment.