coaxing, managed to mount him.
He told Rafael what he knew.
"And do you know what Philip told Alexander after he broke the horse?"
He shook his head.
"He said, 'Look for a kingdom that matches your size, for Macedonia has not enough space for you.' That's her problem, Viktor. Her Federation is larger than Europe, but it's not big enough. She wants more."
"That's not for us to worry about."
"What we're doing somehow fits into her plan."
He said nothing in response, though he, too, was concerned.
Rafael seemed to sense his reluctance. "You told the man on the phone that we'd bring fifty thousand euros. We have no money."
He appreciated the change in subject. "We won't need any. We'll get the medallion without spending anything."
"We need to eliminate whoever is doing this."
Rafael was right. Supreme Minister Zovastina would not tolerate errors.
"I agree," he said. "We'll kill them all."
Chapter THIRTEEN
SAMARKAND
CENTRAL ASIAN FEDERATION
11:
0 A . M .
THE MAN WHO ENTERED IRINA ZOVASTINA'S STUDY WAS SHORT, squat, with a flat face and a jawline that signaled stubbornness. He was third in command of the Consolidated Federation Air Force, but he was also the covert leader of a minor political party, whose voice had, of late, acquired an alarming volume. A Kazakh who secretly resisted all Slavic influences, he liked to speak about nomadic times, hundreds of years ago, long before the Russians changed everything.
Staring at the rebel she wondered how his bald cranium and barren eyes endeared him to anyone, yet reports described him as smart, articulate, and persuasive. He'd been brought to the palace two days ago after suddenly collapsing with a raging fever, blood gushing from his nose, coughing fits that had left him exhausted, and a pounding in his hips that he'd described as hammer blows. His doctor had diagnosed a viral infection with a possible pneumonia, but no conventional treatment had worked.
Today, though, he seemed fine.
In bare feet, he wore one of the palace's chestnut bathrobes.
"You're looking good, Enver. Much better."
"Why am I here?" he asked in an expressionless tone that carried no appreciation.
Earlier, he'd been questioning the staff, who, on her orders, had dropped hints of his treachery. Interestingly, the colonel had showed no fear. He was further displaying his defiance by avoiding Russian, speaking to her in Kazakh, so she decided to humor him and kept to the old language. "You were deathly ill. I had you brought here so my doctors could care for you."
"I remember nothing of yesterday."
She motioned for him to sit and poured tea from a silver service. "You were in a bad condition. I was concerned, so I decided to help."
He eyed her with clear suspicion.
She handed him a cup and saucer. "Green tea, with a hint of apple. I'm told you like it."
He did not accept the offering. "What is it you want, Minister?"
"You're a traitor to me and this Federation. That political party of yours has been inciting people to civil disobedience."
He showed no surprise. "You say constantly that we have the right to speak out."
"And you believe me?"
She tabled the cup and decided to stop playing hostess. "Three days ago you were exposed to a viral agent, one that kills within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Death comes from an explosive fever, fluid in the lungs, and a weakening in the arterial walls that leads to massive internal bleeding. Your infection had not, as yet, progressed to that point. But, by now, it would have."
"And how was I cured?"
"I stopped it."
"You?"
"I wanted you to experience what I'm capable of inflicting."
He said nothing for a moment, apparently digesting reality.
"You're a colonel in our air force. A man who took an oath to defend this Federation with his life."
"And I would."
"Yet you apparently have no problem inciting treason."
"I'll ask again. What do you want?" His tone had lost all civility.
"Your loyalty."
He said nothing.
She grabbed a remote
He told Rafael what he knew.
"And do you know what Philip told Alexander after he broke the horse?"
He shook his head.
"He said, 'Look for a kingdom that matches your size, for Macedonia has not enough space for you.' That's her problem, Viktor. Her Federation is larger than Europe, but it's not big enough. She wants more."
"That's not for us to worry about."
"What we're doing somehow fits into her plan."
He said nothing in response, though he, too, was concerned.
Rafael seemed to sense his reluctance. "You told the man on the phone that we'd bring fifty thousand euros. We have no money."
He appreciated the change in subject. "We won't need any. We'll get the medallion without spending anything."
"We need to eliminate whoever is doing this."
Rafael was right. Supreme Minister Zovastina would not tolerate errors.
"I agree," he said. "We'll kill them all."
Chapter THIRTEEN
SAMARKAND
CENTRAL ASIAN FEDERATION
11:
0 A . M .
THE MAN WHO ENTERED IRINA ZOVASTINA'S STUDY WAS SHORT, squat, with a flat face and a jawline that signaled stubbornness. He was third in command of the Consolidated Federation Air Force, but he was also the covert leader of a minor political party, whose voice had, of late, acquired an alarming volume. A Kazakh who secretly resisted all Slavic influences, he liked to speak about nomadic times, hundreds of years ago, long before the Russians changed everything.
Staring at the rebel she wondered how his bald cranium and barren eyes endeared him to anyone, yet reports described him as smart, articulate, and persuasive. He'd been brought to the palace two days ago after suddenly collapsing with a raging fever, blood gushing from his nose, coughing fits that had left him exhausted, and a pounding in his hips that he'd described as hammer blows. His doctor had diagnosed a viral infection with a possible pneumonia, but no conventional treatment had worked.
Today, though, he seemed fine.
In bare feet, he wore one of the palace's chestnut bathrobes.
"You're looking good, Enver. Much better."
"Why am I here?" he asked in an expressionless tone that carried no appreciation.
Earlier, he'd been questioning the staff, who, on her orders, had dropped hints of his treachery. Interestingly, the colonel had showed no fear. He was further displaying his defiance by avoiding Russian, speaking to her in Kazakh, so she decided to humor him and kept to the old language. "You were deathly ill. I had you brought here so my doctors could care for you."
"I remember nothing of yesterday."
She motioned for him to sit and poured tea from a silver service. "You were in a bad condition. I was concerned, so I decided to help."
He eyed her with clear suspicion.
She handed him a cup and saucer. "Green tea, with a hint of apple. I'm told you like it."
He did not accept the offering. "What is it you want, Minister?"
"You're a traitor to me and this Federation. That political party of yours has been inciting people to civil disobedience."
He showed no surprise. "You say constantly that we have the right to speak out."
"And you believe me?"
She tabled the cup and decided to stop playing hostess. "Three days ago you were exposed to a viral agent, one that kills within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Death comes from an explosive fever, fluid in the lungs, and a weakening in the arterial walls that leads to massive internal bleeding. Your infection had not, as yet, progressed to that point. But, by now, it would have."
"And how was I cured?"
"I stopped it."
"You?"
"I wanted you to experience what I'm capable of inflicting."
He said nothing for a moment, apparently digesting reality.
"You're a colonel in our air force. A man who took an oath to defend this Federation with his life."
"And I would."
"Yet you apparently have no problem inciting treason."
"I'll ask again. What do you want?" His tone had lost all civility.
"Your loyalty."
He said nothing.
She grabbed a remote
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