The Time Portal 2: Escape in Time (20 page)

So
, Lucky thought.
Jack Kinsey was right. The courier was drugged and the videotape copied.

Oleg continued, “After he saw video, he insist to question you for other things, especially new invention and how it affects oil and relevance. Russia is wealthy from large quantities of oil under soil. I receive pressure each day by both men to bring you in. Mr. Campo, uh, Lucky, I am man in powerful position. I do not apologize for decisions I make and I do not apologize for taking your friends. They are civilians, yes, should not be involved in this matter, but I have no other choices, but to use your friends to get you come here.”

Oleg was remarkably candid. And Lucky couldn’t help but think that he, too, would have done pretty much the same thing – whatever it takes to get the job done. As far as Mikilov, well, Lucky didn’t feel the same about him.

“Oleg, my time travel has absolutely no military value to any government in the world and I know that’s your primary concern. The first thing you should know is I cannot teleport. I wish I could, but I can’t. I cannot indiscriminately travel to a time of my choosing. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I think it would be best if I start at the beginning. I believe it will answer one or more of your questions.”

Oleg poured two more vodkas, took a seat behind the bar facing Lucky, and motioned for Lucky to have a seat as well on the other side.

“And when I’m finished,” Lucky added, “I’ll show you the flying machine and when you see it, I believe your second question will be answered.”

“You have my interest, Lucky,” Oleg said.

Luck went on to explain how Dirk had tried to have him killed and how he had fallen six stories, his life saved by clotheslines. Once in a while, Lucky had to stop and explain a word here or there. For example, clothesline. Lucky had to almost resort to a game of charades. He spoke about his brain surgery and many of the things he experienced after recovery. He told him about the portals.

“Now,” Lucky mentioned to him, “if Zofski could just disappear; no blood, no death, Oleg, I mean that, just disappear, then there would be an opportunity for someone else to move into his position. And by the way, I am willing to allow you to travel with me, at least once, to see how it feels, and to show you what I experience. But remember, Oleg, I have this power. No one else does. Whoever travels with me, their life depends on me and not the other way around. If you decide to investigate this for yourself, you can return and give your president a firsthand report of your experience, how it felt, the sensations of time travel. No harm will come to you as long as you’re with me, stay right with me. Again, my gift has absolutely no military value at all. It would be of major importance if I could control
where
I wanted to go, but I cannot. I can only travel where the portals lead me. I am telling you this because I do not want to be followed or threatened or harassed any longer. I want it all to stop. I want to be left alone. You know, Oleg, if you had called me and asked for a meeting, I would have met you and we could have avoided all this drama.”

The men continued their talk as they strolled outside on the long sidewalk that was part of the concrete framing the building.

“Excuse me,” Lucky said. “I need to make a call. I’ll show you something.”

He dialed the professor from his cell and asked him to return with the spacecraft and land in the same spot as before. It was out of camera range, close by, and surrounded by foliage. Lucky had told Oleg many details of his life, but deep down, he also knew that Oleg was born and bred a Russian, that he would always be a loyal Russian and Oleg, especially, was a Russian in a powerful position. Lucky had no proof that he could trust him, but he was determined to find out what kind of a man he was before the day was over. Oleg might be a powerful man in the ranks of the infamous KGB, but he might also be a potentially powerful ally, useful to Lucky in the future. Lucky was no fool, though. He might not be able to teleport, but he knew that the spacecraft indeed had significance when it came to oil and oil revenues. He also knew that his time travels had made him wealthy. If anyone else, outside of his friends, ever found out, perhaps they might try to figure out how his power worked and use it against him.

Out of nowhere, Lucky said, “By the way, Oleg, I have one of your greatest Russian treasures.”

Oleg stopped walking and looked at Lucky.

Lucky nodded and said, “That’s right. I have a piece of Russian history, a priceless piece of Russian history. I know where it is.”

“What Russian treasure you have that I do not know?”

“Oleg, I would be glad to return this treasure, but I don’t really know, at this point, if it is even possible.”

“Please explain,” Oleg said, “so I understand what treasure it is you talk about.”

“There is a young Russian princess who misses her country, but cannot return home because her family was murdered. She is currently under my protection.”

“Who is this princess? There are no ladies called princesses in Russia missing. So I don’t see how you have Russian princess in your care.”

“Think, Oleg. Who was the last Russian princess to remain alive? Think carefully who might have survived.”

Oleg stood, his mind racing, trying his best to comprehend who it might be. Lucky tried another clue. “Wasn’t there one of the tsar’s daughters whose body was never found?”

“You can’t mean . . .”

“Go on,” Lucky encouraged.

“The only person I can think, but . . . it is
impossible
. It cannot be. Anastasia Nikolayevna,” he uttered softly to himself.

Lucky smiled lightly as if to affirm his answer. Oleg stared, raised one eyebrow as though intrigue had turned to anger.

“You do not amuse, Lucky,” he said.

“No, I am not amusing, Oleg. But I am truthful. Pravda. I am known for my pravda. So here is the truth. Somehow, in my travels, the ones that take me to crazy places and crazy times all over the world, well, I ended up in Siberia where I stumbled upon a horrible scene. I can honestly say that it was the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life – a family being murdered by men pretending to be soldiers. They were killing everyone in sight – men, women, children – attacking them viciously with their guns and knives and executing them one by one. So . . . I pulled out my gun and shot them, with the help of a friend traveling with me. They had never seen guns and firepower like ours. It was too late for many of the family members, but we were able to get her out of there. I brought her here to the present with me, in order to protect her. Her name is indeed Anastasia . . . Nikolayevna.”

Oleg gasped. How could it be? This man before him must be delusional, yet already Oleg had witnessed, with his own eyes, inexplicable mad powers from this man. How could he doubt him now? Should he doubt him now?

“Lucky,” he said. “I see no reason for you to say this, but you admit this is story unlike others. The magic you performed, well there is probably simple answer, one that brilliant Russian scientists have not yet perfected, but nevertheless, I give you that credit. Also, this machine that flies is brilliant and yet can be developed through brightest of engineers and physicists so that, too, can be explained, but rescuing duchess (and by the way for sake of accurate history, she was Grand Duchess, not princess) from another time, well, I’m afraid, Lucky, that I cannot let my mind believe this.”

Lucky laughed and said, “Well, I can’t say that I blame you there, Oleg,” and he began to walk. “I’ll consider returning her to you on two conditions,” he added.

“Lucky, there is no princess, so may I suggest we end nonsense?”

“If she herself agrees to return to Russia and if you give me your personal guarantee that she will not be harmed and will be treated like the princess, duchess, that she is,” Lucky continued, completely ignoring Oleg. “She is a Russian treasure. She is royalty and deserves to be treated as such.”

“Lucky, it would be foolish man to make deal such as this over such preposterous story. How can this be and besides, if there is young woman and she professes to be duchess, and you go along with her story, and I go along with both stories, how do I know is really Anastasia Nikolayevna,  of Pererhof, daughter of 
Alexandra Feodorovna
and
Nicholas II
the tsar?”

“Oleg, you know as well as I that there are laboratories that perform genetic tests that can prove or disprove her heritage. It will be an easy way to find the truth.”

Oleg was about to respond, but without warning, the flying machine appeared, seemingly from nowhere, swooped down, and perched itself right on the pavement before them.

“I did not expect,” Oleg said as he grabbed his heart. “Lucky, you said you had no intentions of killing me. I beg to differ, Lucky. You almost did. You should warn man before surprise him like that.” Lucky laughed and laughed and Oleg, once he regained his composure, joined in.

“So, here you have it. This is the mysterious, intriguing space machine, conceived and built by the man who flies it. I can show you inside if you trust me. I have no intentions of any malice. As I said before, I simply want to show you so you can issue your report.”

The steps extended from the ship and the men climbed aboard. Once inside, Lucky introduced Oleg to Professor Lindstrom.

“Oleg, this is the man you were so anxious to meet.”

Lucky and Oleg each took a seat, as did the invisible gang behind them, without Oleg realizing they were close enough to breathe on him. The ship fascinated Oleg. His eyes darted around, examining every inch of the interior of the craft, professionally analyzing it and committing as much to memory as possible. The truth was that he kind of liked Lucky, but trained professional as he was, he would need to include all of this in his report to President Putin.

At that moment, Oleg’s intense scrutiny and gaze was interrupted by Lucky’s hand on his arm.

“Oleg,” he said. “You and I are going to the Kremlin. We’re going to walk right into the President’s office.

“What?” Oleg answered. “You tricked me! I cannot ‘walk’ into President’s office unannounced,” he exclaimed.

“I want to talk to him,” Lucky continued. “I’ll answer his questions if that is what it takes to get him off of my back. I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder any longer. He can ask and I will tell him anything he needs to know as long as it does not compromise my country or my government’s national security or violate any secrecy policies.”

Oleg sat quietly. He looked toward the door, wondering if he should make a go for it down the steps, yet he had seen that tape of Lucky. He knew that the man before him had some crazy powers. Why, he witnessed a room full of armed guards fall one by one to the ground like a stack of pick-up sticks. Lucky motioned to the professor and said, “The Kremlin, please, professor.”

Within seconds, the professor landed the ship at the far end of the main parking lot, alongside some trees. He then he propelled the spacecraft as far into the trees as safety would permit and slowly turned the ship around, so that the steps would not be visible from the building.

“Everything I told you, Oleg, concerns only me, no one else. Understand that, while I’m able to see portals and travel to another time, there is no other human being that can duplicate it. Not a soul on earth. When a man in high places in the CIA tried to kill me, it was luck, strictly luck that I survived. Divine intervention, by means of that laundry, saved my life at first. Then divine intervention and the doctors did the rest. My brain was a pile of mush. The doctors were certain I would not survive, but I was always lucky, that’s why I have the name I do, and this time I was luckier than ever before.

“Oleg, by you walking me into President Putin’s office, you will be the hero, the only man who could bring me in. As far as you are concerned, you have followed your president’s orders. And, when all is said and done, and when this nonsense is over, you and I will take that trip through time. You will experience it for yourself, and of course, it will be my pleasure to have you accompany me when I drop off Zofski.”

Oleg looked around as though he was half expecting his boss to walk in and hear. He began to whisper.

“Lucky? You really go for him? You speak the truth? You eliminate Zofski?”

“I sure am,” Lucky answered quickly. “Yes to all of the above.”

Then Oleg asked, “Will you do in President’s office what you did in my office? The trick of falling men?”

“Sure will, Oleg, if you think I need to. It’s probably a good idea, huh?”

Lucky and Oleg made their way over to Lubyanka Square and the grand building, home of the Kremlin and the KGB. The massive building, as majestic as its presence in size, was rather plain and barren, in fact, cold on the inside. The men walked up two flights of steps and down a hallway. Lucky held the door long enough for his invisible back up team to enter and he himself then walked right into President Putin’s office.

Chapter Twenty-One

Zofksi was seated to the side of the President’s large desk. Apparently, Oleg and Lucky had walked in on a heated discussion between the two men. Lucky looked around the room and was surprised to see that the room was rather austere, sparse, with few accents, except for a couple of pictures of Putin adorning the walls. It was a far cry from the fancy trappings of the Oval Office. Lucky began to wonder if this was not an indication of the man’s personality – no nonsense, serious, a let’s-get-right-down-to-brass-tacks type of guy.

The President got up from his chair and greeted Oleg.

“Who is your friend here?” he asked in Russian.

Oleg began to speak in English, making sure that there was no misunderstanding or confusion on Lucky’s end. He did not want any trouble.

“This is American you ordered we bring to you.”

Putin’s face said it all as he stood there looking at the unrestrained man before him.
Where are the handcuffs, the chains,
he wondered? Why was this man seemingly unafraid, not cowering before a man as great as he?