Steve Berry - The Romanov Prophecy

"I want to go."

He stared at her. "Why?"

"Since we met, I have felt strange. As if it was meant that you and I would connect. There was no fear when you entered my compartment, and I never once questioned my decision to let you spend the night. Something inside told me to do it. I also knew I would see you again."

He wasn't as mystical as this attractive Russian seemed to be. "My father was a preacher. He traveled from town to town lying to people. He loved to scream the word of God, but all he did was take advantage of people's poverty and play off their fears. He was the most unholy man I ever knew. Cheated on his wife, his kids, and his God."

"But he fathered you."

"He was there when my mother conceived, but he didn't father me. I raised myself."

She motioned to her chest. "He is still inside. Whether you want to admit it or not."

No, he didn't want to admit that. At one point, years ago, he'd seriously considered changing his last name. Only his mother's pleas had stopped him. "You realize, Akilina, this could all be made up."

"For what purpose? You have wondered for days why men are trying to kill you. This professor has provided an answer."

"Let them go find this Romanov survivor themselves. They have my information."

"Rasputin said only you and I could succeed."

He shook his head. "You don't really believe that?"

"I don't know what to believe. My grandmother told me, when I was a child, that she saw good things for me in life. Maybe she was right."

Not necessarily the answer he wanted, but there was something inside nudging him forward, too. If nothing else, this so-called quest would get him out of Moscow, away from Droopy and Cro-Magnon. And he couldn't deny being fascinated by the whole thing. Pashenko was right. There were an awful lot of coincidences that had come together over the past few days. He didn't for one minute believe Gregorii Rasputin had been able to predict the future, but he was intrigued by Felix Yussoupov's involvement. The Originator, Pashenko had called him, almost with reverence.

He recalled the man's history. Yussoupov was a bisexual transvestite who had murdered Rasputin out of a false belief that the fate of a nation rested on what he did. He took an almost perverse pride in his accomplishment and basked in the limelight of that foolish act for fifty years thereafter. He was another hypocritical showboat, a dangerous and malevolent fraud, like Rasputin and like Lord's own father. Yet Yussoupov was apparently involved in something that bespoke unselfishness.

"All right, Akilina. We'll do it. Why not? What else have I to do?" He glanced over at the kitchen door as Semyon Pashenko stepped back into the den.

"I just received some disturbing news," the older man said. "One of our associates, the one who carted away the man at the circus, did not show up at the assigned location with his prisoner. He's been found dead."

Droopy had escaped. Not a comforting prospect.

"I'm sorry," Akilina said. "He saved our lives."

Pashenko looked listless. "He knew the risks when he joined our Holy Band. He is not the first to die for this cause." The older man sat down in a chair, a tired look in his eyes. "And will probably not be the last."

"We've decided," Lord said, "to do it."

"I thought you might. But do not forget what Rasputin said. Twelve must die before the search is complete."

Lord wasn't necessarily concerned about any hundred-year-old prophecy. Mystics had been wrong before. Droopy and Cro-Magnon, though, were real, their threat immediate.

"You realize, Mr. Lord," Pashenko said, "that you were the object of the killing on Nikolskaya Prospekt four days ago, not Artemy Bely. Men are after you. Men whom I suspect already know some of what we know. These men will want to stop you."

"I assume," Lord said, "no one will know where we're going except you?"

"That's right. And it will stay that way. Only you, I, and Miss Petrovna know the details of the starting point."

"That's not entirely true. The man I work for knows of Alexandra's writing. But I don't see how he would connect any of this. And if he did, he would tell no one."

"Do you have any reason not to trust your employer?"

"I showed him that stuff two weeks ago and he never said a word about it. I don't think he even gave it much thought." He shifted in his seat. "Okay, since we've agreed to do it, how about explaining the more you alluded to earlier."

Pashenko sat up, emotion returning to his face. "The Originator set the search up in steps, each independent of the other. If the right person, with the right words, appeared at each step, information for the next would be provided. Only Yussoupov knew the entire plan and, if he is to be believed, he told no one.

"We now know that somewhere in the village of Starodug is the first leg. I checked after our talk a few days ago. Kolya Maks was one of Nicholas's palace guards who turned, after the revolution, to the Bolsheviks. By the time of the Romanov murders he was a member of the Ural Soviet. In the revolution's infancy, before Moscow asserted dominant control, local soviets ruled their respective geographic areas. So the Ural Soviet controlled the tsar's fate far more than the Kremlin. The Ural region was staunchly anti-tsarist. They wanted Nicholas dead from the first day he set foot in Yekaterinburg."

"I recall all that," Lord said, thinking about the peace treaty Lenin had signed in March 1918 that removed Russia from World War I. "Lenin thought he was rid of the Germans. Hell, he practically begged for peace. The terms were so humiliating one of the Russian generals shot himself after the signing ceremony. Then the German ambassador was assassinated in Moscow on July 6, 1918. Lenin now faced the possibility of another German invasion. So he planned to use the Romanovs as a bargaining chip, thinking the kaiser cared enough to actually want them, especially Alexandra, who was born a German-born princess."

"But the Germans did not want any Romanovs," Pashenko said. "That's when the family became a liability. So the Ural Soviet was ordered to kill them. Kolya Maks may have been part of that. He may even have been present at the execution."

"Professor, that man is surely dead," Akilina said. "Too many years have passed."

"But it was his duty to make sure the information survived. We must assume Maks stayed faithful to his oath."

Lord was perplexed. "Why don't you just go yourself and find Maks? I understand you didn't have the name until now, but why do we have to do it?"

"The Originator made sure that only the raven and the eagle could be given the information. Even if I went, or sent someone else, the information would not be passed on. We must respect Rasputin's prophecy. The starets said only you could succeed where all others fail. I, too, must stay faithful to my oath, and respect what the Originator designed."

Lord searched his mind for more details about Felix Yussoupov. The family was one of the wealthiest in Russia, and Felix had only inherited the family reins when his older brother was killed in a duel. He'd been a disappointment from birth. His mother had wanted a girl and to console herself she kept him in long hair and dresses until he was five.

"Wasn't Yussoupov fascinated by Rasputin?" he asked.

Pashenko nodded. "Some biographers even suggest a homosexual link, one Rasputin may have rejected, which might have led to Yussoupov's resentment. His wife was Nicholas II's favorite niece, regarded as perhaps the most eligible young woman in Russia. He possessed a deep loyalty to Nicholas, and thought it his duty to rid the tsar of the threatening influence of Rasputin. It was a misguided belief, encouraged by other nobles who resented the starets's position at court."

"I never regarded Yussoupov as particularly intelligent. Much more a follower than a leader."