Dark Matter (9 page)

'Bloody hell Charlie, what have you done?'

'You know very well what I have done.  I've screwed both our countries.  I was in a tight spot and didn't know which way to jump.'

'So you thought, into the lake of fire and alligators it is, oh and why don't I drag my old mate Sam in too.'

So
, Charlie thought to himself
, Sam isn't that annoyed with me.  After all, he tends to go super-serious when he is really pissed off.
Charlie decided to wind up Sam a bit further.

'Well' Charlie replied, suppressing a grin 'you could have spoken up, added something of your own, you know, actually participate for a change.'

Sam turned sharply to his left so his face was square on to Charlie's, when he spoke it was with the low growl of a man barely controlling his emotions. 

'I have worked my butt off at these talks and you know it.  I have worked for months behind the scenes planning these sessions and preparing our joint position.  I, in short, have worked my fucking brains out on this.'

Charlie maintained Sam's gaze and slowly clapped his hands. 

'Sorry I didn't realise,' Charlie said ‘I just thought you phoned the Russians last week and asked if it would be OK if we popped by for a chat.' 

Charlie finished this off with one of his broad smiles.  He could look like a cheeky little schoolboy when it suited him.  Sam finally caught the joke.  Returning Charlie's smile as a grin, his shoulders relaxed and he sat back into the seat.  He stretched out the fingers of both hands, aware for the first time that they had become fists. 

'OK' said Sam, relaxing even more, 'what do we do next?'

'Oh that's obvious old boy, we have lunch.'

The Generals took their places, the original agenda for the afternoon session had been shredded, and in its place was now just a single item, a reciprocal arrangement for military bases. 

‘You know,’ Colonel Petrenko said leaning in close to his General, ‘Embassies exist in all countries and are governed by internationally recognised rules and laws.  The land upon which they reside is, for all intents and purposes, the homeland of the country of the embassy.’

‘Da.’ General Ivanskiy nodded and made his decision.  ‘Gentleman it seems that my aide, Colonel Petrenko, has a proposal.’  He looked at his aide, judging how he will react.  ‘Nickolai Andreovich please share your proposal.’

Colonel Petrenko shot to his feet, still more a solider than an officer at heart, he stood rigid his eyes fixed on an imaginary horizon.

‘Honoured guests.’  Nickolai’s English strained under the occasion.  ‘We have Embassies with each other, da?  Our embassy in your country is our land.  If these military bases were embassies then we could have our own land in the other’s country.  We have signed treaties, we know the rules, and so do our political masters.’  Nickolai stood quiet, ‘That is all I have.’  He sat back down next to his General, more relieved than he knew he should have felt.

‘So what do we think?’  General Ivanskiy eyed his counterparts.

‘It would seem an elegant solution to a difficult problem.’  Charlie replied still feeling responsible for his earlier mistake.

The scope was extended to provide for the bases being joint enterprises, with Russian and Coalition troops working and training alongside one another.  There was one major area of difficultly, that being who would “run” the bases.  An Ambassador would not have experience in commanding troops, nor a General in diplomacy. 

Charlie suggested that what was needed was another arm of government, not political, military or civil service but a combination of the best parts of all three.  He kept wondering how General Ivanskiy had been able to gain the agreement of both the military and the Kremlin in his plan to integrate Russian forces with American and British forces. 
It is as if Ivanskiy has some special inside track within the Russian political-military complex....

20:18
              31 October  [17:18   31 October  GMT]

Georgievsky Hall of the Grand Kremlin Palace, Moscow, Russia
.

The British delegation was the fourth to arrive.  Charlie and Elizabeth were travelling in with the Ambassador and her husband. 
It is interesting,
Elizabeth thought to herself,
how far women have come and yet for all kinds of personal preferences and conventions we might as well be living in Victorian times.
  Elizabeth was dressed in a truly stunning ball-gown that she had chosen the previous day in a Moscow boutique, she had brought several with her, but felt that she would honour her hosts by wearing a Russian styled, made, and sold dress.  It was off the shoulder and made the most of her figure, especially her slim waist and ample breasts.  The Ambassador made her contemplate women's progress though.  The Ambassador's husband was predictably dressed in black tie, as was her own husband Charlie, and she guessed Sam would be too, there are not any real options for men except for formal state affairs when they can wear their dress uniforms.  The Ambassador though being a woman could not wear black-tie without calling attention to the fact that she wasn't wearing a dress, however to dress-up too much, look too attractive or provocative would undermine her credibility, people would wonder whether she got the job, or her first job, on looks alone. 
It is totally unfair
, thought Elizabeth,
but also totally a reality
.  She recognised that the Ambassador had managed to tread the line by showing herself as an attractive woman, but one who looked serious and regal, rather than fun and appealing. 

As their car pulled into the Kremlin Palace, Elizabeth became aware of the scale and splendour of the buildings.  Built in the time of the Czars, it was like a palace from a fairy tale, or several palaces.  The car stopped outside the Grand Kremlin Palace from where they were lead though the gilded halls into the State Room.  No one spoke as they entered the hall.  The ceiling, three stories high, was decorated with the same gold-leaf inlay and detailed carving as the walls, the huge four-tier chandleries hung in the air shining with the brilliance of over a hundred bulbs each like a cluster of brightly lit stars exploding light into the room, their brilliance reflected by all the gold.

They were announced into the room “General Sir Charles and Lady Elizabeth Beaconsfield” and moved along the official reception line, shaking hands, exchanging greetings and generally looking forward to the end of the line and the champagne that was waiting.  Glasses in hand they were met by Sam and Mary. 

'Elizabeth you look stunning, any chance you would drop this guy and run away with me?’  Sam asked.

It was Mary who jumped in next, 'Charlie, as soon as you are free how about flying out to my ranch and help me do a little rustling?' she winked openly at Charlie for good measure. 

'What do you think dear' Elizabeth looked at her husband as she asked him, 'should I abandon you and run off with the gallant American?'

'I guess so...’  Charlie responded giving the appearance of pondering the question, 'you realise that you would be forcing me into the arms of another lady.'  Charlie beamed like a schoolboy.

'Hey!' exclaimed Mary, 'What makes you think
I'm a lady?
' 

After the remaining guests had arrived the official reception line was stood down and General Ivanskiy at last had the opportunity to head over to the group of four; a slim, but well-shaped brunette on his arm who was wearing a low cut red dress from which it appeared that her large breasts were trying to wrestle their way free.  Four sets of eyes were trained on her, two in an inquiring and challenging way, two more in a much more lascivious way.

'General Sam and Mary Colt, General Sir Charles and Lady Elizabeth Beaconsfield, may I introduce my wife, Anna Stephonova Ivanskiy.'  General Ivanskiy said simply.

After the introductions, the compliments and the usual small talk, the women took their cue and left the men to talk shop.  Mary and Elizabeth were keen to learn more about Anna, not realising that Anna was just as keen to learn about them.

01:16              01 November  [22:16   31 October  GMT]

Presidential Suite, National Hotel, Mokhovaya St., Moscow, Russia
.

Mary called to Sam from the bathroom, 'You know, Anna is simply delightful, I never imagined that the General would have such a warm wife.'

'Why, because she is Russian or the wife of a General?'  Sam rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that she couldn't see him.

'There's no need for the attitude...or for you to roll your eyes.'

Damn, he thought, how does she do that?

'All I mean is,' she continued, 'is that she is really nice.  Elizabeth thinks so too.  You know she has invited us to her spa whilst you and Charlie are off playing soldiers.  Three days of deep salt scrubs and massages, sounds like heaven to me.'

Yes
, thought Sam, somewhat ungraciously,
because you and Elizabeth both have such hard lives you need a few days to recuperate.

'I know what you're thinking and we do deserve a little time to ourselves.  We may not play soldiers and we don't get paid for the work that we do, but a lot of people depend on our fund raising activities.'

              Damn it, it's as if she has a bug in my mind.  Sam thought back to when he met Anna.  I hope she wasn't eavesdropping on my mind then...

             
'Well I hope you and Elizabeth both have a great time.'

17:04
              01 November  [13:04   01 November GMT]

Health Spa, Volzhsky Utyos, Samara Region, Russia
.

The spa was women only, the closest men could venture was the entrance allowing Mary, Elizabeth and Anna to relax.  They could just be themselves without feeling that they had to be on public display.  The spa itself had many influences; Czarist Russian, Turkish, French and latterly commercial, with the addition of manicures, pedicures, waitress service and a two star Michelin restaurant.

The three of them had started with a high-pressure water treatment; a kind of super-fast Jacuzzi followed by Turkish style deep punishing massages, mud baths and were now deep cleansing in the sauna.

'You know,' Anna began, 'why I brought you here?'

Mary and Elizabeth exchanged a look but didn't interrupt.

'It's because we can talk here.  There are no surveillance here.'  Anna continued, having slightly stumbled over her English.  'I think it is important that we are friends.  I think it is very important.  Our husbands are starting out on a...Deeyermo' she swore, searching for the right words ‘Opasnoyeh pootyeshyestviyeh ...perilous journey.  Da, a perilous journey from which there can be only two outcomes; one that we become allies and bond, two we fall out and fight.  I know this and I think you know both it too.’  Again, her English letting her down, as the pressure of her meaning defeated her grammar.

Elizabeth responded, 'I am not sure what it is you want from us?'

'I want' Anna continued 'I want your trust in me.  It is important.  I know you do not trust me.  I do not trust you, but it is important that I do.  That we do.  I will have to earn your trust.  I will tell you something, which is not widely known.  My husband has a mistress.  Her name is Valentina Yashina Soboleva.  She is thirty-seven and he has been seeing her for eighteen years.  Now know this.  I love my husband, I am not telling you this to betray him, far from it.  I am speaking to you with his tacit knowledge and approval.  He does not know that I know about his mistress and I do not want him to know, he is happy and he makes me happy.  The point is we can speak’ again she searches for the right Russian word to translate, ‘ot'krito, da, ot'krito,
openly
, our husbands cannot...yet.  In world of confusion, we must communicate clearly if we are to survive.'

The room was quiet save for the sound of the steam rising off the rocks.  Elizabeth cleared her throat and quietly began.

'What you ask is not impossible.  You are right we do not trust you; at least I do not trust you...yet.  But you are right trust is important between us.'

'Yes, Yes!’  Anna interjected, 'It is like what my Gregori say, he says
dorvereeyeh yavlayetsya osnovee cheeveeleezacheiee,
trust is the bedrock of civilisation, da, trust is the bedrock of civilisation.  He very clear on this point.’  Anna had become animated with remembering the phrase her husband had used.

Despite the high temperature in the sauna, a chill ran through Elizabeth’s veins.  She stole herself against revealing any emotion. 

'And he is right, Anna Stephonova.  Trust is the bedrock of civilisation.  I will speak to my husband.  And I will give you my trust...for now.'

Mary had sat all through this feeling like a complete outsider.  Finally, the compulsion to be part of the conversation pushed her into an area she would not normally have ventured into. 

'You don't mind that your husband has a mistress?'