Eternal Empire by Alec Nevala-Lee

degenerated into an endless political nightmare. Five days wasn’t nearly enough. But now it was all she had.
    The elevator doors opened. Wolfe got in, pressing the button for the first floor.
    Caught up in her thoughts, she did not notice, except in passing, that her partner had lingered for a second in the hallway outside. And she did not see Asthana look for a long moment at the closed door of Rogozin’s cell, her face unreadable, before entering the elevator as well.

7
    T he following morning, the gates of Tarkovsky’s estate slid back, allowing Maddy to enter for the first time. She was seated in the backseat of the car that had picked her up at home, driven by a silent figure who had resisted all her efforts to engage him in conversation. As they rolled past the guardhouse, she saw two men seated at a bank of monitors. One of them spoke inaudibly into a phone as the town car drove by, passing a sign warning of the electrified fence.
    It had been an hour’s drive from London. The estate, as Maddy had learned, was located in West Sussex, covering more than three hundred acres outside the city of Chichester. Through her window, she could see a trailed gang mower cutting the grass, with a separate crew filling in the hoof marks on the field with sand. The girl she had seen on horseback the day before, whom she had confirmed was Tarkovsky’s daughter, Nina, was nowhere in sight.
    At the end of the drive stood the main house, a Tudor mansion fronted with stone and framed by two projecting wings. Next to it ran a modern extension and, to the north, a line of evergreen woods. As Maddy looked ahead, she noted a jeep coming in the other direction, carrying two men in uniform. Powell had instructed her to keep a close eye on Tarkovsky’s staff, especially security.
    A moment later, the car eased to a stop at the driveway in front of the mansion. As the driver came around to open her door, Maddy saw Elena Usova emerge from the narrow entrance gable. Elena had exchanged yesterday’s Armani suit for Versace, but she was carrying the same leather folder as before.
    It was a cool morning with a hint of rain, and she could smell damp fir and freshly mown grass as she followed Elena along the footpath. As she walked, she noticed a man in a gray suit watching from the door of the main house, and she increased her tally of security staff to five.
    Maddy saw that they were heading for the new building. “We aren’t going inside?”
    Elena’s heels crunched on the gravel of the path. “No. The foundation’s employees are housed in the extension. Only Vasily, his family, and his personal staff work in the main house.”
    Hearing Elena refer to her employer by his first name, Maddy wondered if there was more to their relationship than met the eye. She knew that Tarkovsky and his wife had been separated for years. “It’s a beautiful property.”
    Elena nodded as they passed a walled garden, followed by a pair of clay tennis courts. “The oldest buildings date from the sixteenth century. The main house, which is more recent, was built by Sir Edwin Lutyens. All the stone was quarried here. After Vasily acquired it, he began restoring it to its original state. You’ll find that he cares deeply about the past.”
    When they arrived at the extension, Elena unlocked the door with a keycard. Maddy followed her into a reception area. Inside, a secretary, also tall and blond, was seated at right angles to a security desk, where a guard asked politely to examine her bag. “You’ll need to be searched when you leave each day,” Elena said. “It’s a standard precaution for all employees.”
    Once the search was complete, Maddy followed Elena up the corridor. The walls were covered in photographs of a yacht under construction, the emblem of a white lotus visible on its hull. This was the
Rigden
, which was being built in Italy by Fincantieri at a cost of