Vlad and Yuri were already helping Sophia and Toshek load their things into the two vehicles by the time I walked up to them. Yuri was complaining to Toshek about the ichthyol packages and boxes and told him to load them last so that they could remove them wherever Toshek decided he was going to leave them in Chelyabinsk.
"No room, for Toshek's capitalism!" joked Yuri.
Toshek wrote down the address where we would drop the boxes off on the way out of town and handed it to Yuri.
Yuri asked Toshek, "What is this place?"
"A doctor's office. He buys some of my product every month. He will help me." Toshek reluctantly told us. The extent of his ichthyol network was becoming clear on this trip and I began to see why everyone called him the Ichthyol King.
Yuri barked out our seating arrangements for the long trip. "OK...fine. Billy! Give me your things here. We will throw them in the back of this Gaz 69. You ride with me. We'll catch up on what's going on and some other news. More room in the '66' so Cindy goes with Vlad and Toshek."
"We are all going to choke to death from the fumes from these Russian monsters!" Sophia cried out as she climbed into the '66' between Vlad, who was driving, and Toshek on the passenger side window. Vlad had not made eye contact with me since I had walked up to the group and I hoped that whatever had been eating him about me on the train two weeks ago was at least in remission. The last thing I wanted was for Vlad to abandon his security role for me. Since he was part of the kidnapping and ransom deterrence program for my safety, I would have happily made amends with him...if I knew what the problem had been. I felt in the dark, though.
The '66' fired up without a problem, though it was loud and smoked a bit. The '69' sounded and looked a little like a WWII era Jeep but it was all fine...as far as I could tell. I especially liked seeing the old grey bicycle strapped to the top of the cabin of the '66'. Balloon tires that looked like something from the 50's and a basket on the front made for a strange sight as we lumbered off into the night.
The '69'
The '66'
Winding our way in Chelyabinsk through miles of 70's and 80's era residential high-rises, I wondered how Yuri could figure out where we were and how to get where we were going. Socialist urban planning, especially the Soviet version, did not plan for the increase in popularity of the car and the requisite parking spaces that came with that growth of numbers. Therefore driving on narrow streets that were clogged with double parked vehicles was not easy and Yuri was not the most patient driver. Having to drop the ichthyol boxes and bags off irritated Yuri but it was clear that he preferred to do that than have the black tarry shit occupying space in the vehicles.
Yuri complained about the ichthyol as we were leaving the city, "We're going to be cramped enough as it is when you find what your looking for at the crash sites. I don't know how heavy it will be and I don't know how much room it will take. So, damn Toshek can take care of his capitalism without it fucking us up or getting us killed somehow. These crazy mafia guys would probably steal it and send Toshek into a fit."
Yuri was telling me another story of ichthyol "getting in the way" of something that the two of them had to take care of when Vlad began honking behind us and waving to pull over. He then was pointing to a low building between two 20 story high rises to our left. We followed them and pulled up to an official looking building that was clearly a medical clinic. Toshek jumped out and knocked on the door. We could see that there were lights on in the reception area. After about 30 seconds, a man opened the door with a white smock on and motioned to bring the stuff through the front door. We all jumped out and helped Toshek get his boxes and bags unloaded. It all took less than five minutes and we were on our way again.
Clearly behind schedule, Yuri told Vlad in front of the clinic that we really needed to make good time and he wanted Vlad to push the '66' as fast as he could. We were going to be driving east on a pretty good highway, #30, so Yuri thought we would make up some time during the 250 KM before we pulled off the highway onto some local roads. For the first time, I heard the name of the closest village to where we would be camped out. It was Dubrovnoye. The rest of what Yuri said was difficult to catch but I understood that there were lakes and forests around and the three sites were all in a row within about 50 km of that village. Two lakes in particular were mentioned, Ozero Bolshaya Kavyka (Big Fly Lake) and Ozero Chasha (Bowl Lake...though I wondered if chasha was also slang for "skull" as it is in Polish therefore being Skull Lake. My imagination started working just thinking about these two lakes. Lotsa big flies and skeletons around.)
Bouncing along in the "69", I remembered that I had almost bought a Gaz or Uaz Russian "Jeep" two years back but had been told that finding parts and constant breakdowns were the life of a Commie Jeep owner. And, just as Sophia had said, the fumes coming into the passenger compartment were only occasionally overpowered by the cigarettes that Yuri had been chain smoking since we left Chelyabinsk. The "69" had manual transmission and I could see that downshifting and going through the gears speeding up were a hit and miss proposition if you cared about mis-shifts and grinding gears. Yuri had all the "69" expert moves down with his double-clutching, choking it when the carburetor would flood out without warning, and regulating the heat and air with twice as many levers as there were vents in the cabin. The noise was deafening at times depending on the gear we were in and whether or not we were passing socialist tin-can cars like an East German Trabant or a Polish Syrena that night. Downshifting and punching the gas to pass a slower vehicle would make the "69" shake and then roar as the gas guzzling 4WD monster would pick up speed. The "66", always about 100 meters behind us, could do whatever we were doing on the highway and I wondered if Sophia was suffering as badly as she had feared. I also wondered if her earlier air sickness might return with the combination of fumes and boat-like rocking that I could see the "66" was doing as we negotiated turns through the countryside that night.
Yuri drove like a madman the whole time. Taking my attention away from the dangers of every curve, I pulled my map out and tried to find where Katerina and Zhenia's estate was in relation to where we were going. It seemed in the general direction but was a good ways further east of their place I guessed. After some time I gave up but then decided to ask Yuri if he could find the place on my map. I told him the name of the village and he took the map, nearly swerving off the road, but almost immediately showed me that it was further north but only about 50 miles from our Dubrovnoye. He added, "There are tourist buses going back and forth from that place you want to go and a small resort on the lake at Dubrovnoye." Yuri glanced at me a couple of times and then asked, "Katerina is there?"
I nodded and said, "Da".
With two hours ahead of us before we left the highway, I studied the documents that Joe had given me about the first, second, and third stages of the Soyuz. Photos that had been photocopied were not very clear but it appeared that the most interest was in second and third stage debris. Joe wrote,
"If there is a choice between accessing second or third stage debris sites, go to the third stage site. That site will, of course, be further north and east of Baikonur. Securing technology within the attachment rings between the third stage and the payload or fourth stage is really our goal." (I was surprised to find that some of these rockets had a fourth stage.)
Photos and some drawings made it look like the target for our trip would be within a metal housing that attached just inside the upper ring of the third stage. Second stage upper ring technology was open and easier to get to but it was not as hot a commodity for Joe as the contents of the housing on the third stage ring. I asked Yuri if he understood why the three sites had been selected and if he knew anything about location of 2nd and 3rd stage debris.
"We are only able to get to 2nd stage debris this week. I asked our hosts about the site to the northeast and they had funny answer." Yuri said.
"What was their answer?" I asked
He said, "They said they have whole rocket on truck and it will be delivered to where we are soon...if we are willing to negotiate more money for anything we take from it."
It didn't take long for Yuri's revelation to sink in. Getting to the site tonight was all we had to do for the two most important targets: second and third stage attachment rings and whatever was just inside that we could identify and remove. Logistics of getting to two sites and dealing with all of the mafia administered bureaucracy seemed to be cut in half...if what Yuri was saying was true. It sounded good to me but then it dawned on me just how unlikely it was that the "whole rocket on truck" was really the debris from the spy satellite booster that we were hoping to find and perform surgery on.
I asked Yuri about this. "Do we have any way of confirming that their rocket on the truck is, in fact, the third stage debris of the rocket we want?"
Yuri shook his head and was looking at me as if I was an idiot, "Look at your papers more closely. There are all kinds of identifying numbers and letters for us to confirm it." His look was spot on. I was an idiot. There was a whole five pages of detailed instructions how to identify our target. Yuri spoke very little after this exchange between us until we reached the intersection where Dubrovnoye Road left Highway 30. It was getting close to 11 pm and I knew that Yuri really wanted to arrive at our destination before midnight. There was a small place that sold diesel and some food at this intersection. Realizing that we were not going into Dubrovnoye but taking a backroad to the meeting spot, Yuri decided to stop and get fuel.We all took a break here and stretched our legs. Sophia came up to me and said, "Let's walk a bit."
"Did you notice that you called me 'Sophia' once on the flight and once at the Polish party? Remember to call me 'Cindy' from now on. Yuri and Vlad and Toshek are trained for it so you should be too." Sophia scolded me as we walked. "Did Yuri tell you that we might have good situation with the second site debris on a truck?" she asked.
"Yes! It sounds very good if they haven't stripped it of the things we are looking for." I said.
"Maybe they stripped it for us and it is waiting for us to buy." she then suggested.
"Maybe. We could be packed up and gone in two days I think. You seem less nervous about the situation and our safety than you did earlier today." I told her.
"Maybe I am. Yuri and Vlad got some respectable vehicles for this trip and I like the 'cage' in the back of the '66'. It is almost like a jail to lock someone up or to hide in and keep the bad guys out. Vlad is acting like civilized man, too, and he is not so worried like Joe was reporting." She continued, "Two things I wanted to tell you before we leave: First - I am Cindy because Sophia is a name that our hosts might react to because of something that happened earlier this year during action at a factory near here. Joe said that the name must disappear. Second - We stay together as much as possible. Getting us away from Vlad and Toshek will be someone's goal. If that happens, we are at big risk. Understand?"
"I understand."
"Maybe you want news about Anatoly and Georg? Magic message machine in Novosibirsk was working this morning."
My face lit up to say "YES!", I'm sure.
"Joe says congratulations for grabbing a big piece of weapons grade uranium that was missing and making many people very nervous. Both Anatoly and Georg are sick from radiation poisoning. Joe wants you to get back to Warsaw as quickly as possible after this Soyuz debris project. There is kind of pow-wow in Poland with other parts of the anti-terrorism team soon.
I listened quietly to the 'magic message' from Joe and just smiled and nodded. It was clear that I should probably put my visit with Katerina and Zhenia on the back burner for my next visit...but I really had doubts that I would ever come back to this place.
"Let's go! 45 minutes to camping place." yelled Vlad in our direction...in English. I was shocked. He actually spoke and didn't grunt or growl...and in English! No wonder Cindy felt better.
Instead of running to the outdoor toilet by the fueling station, I peed behind a tree quickly then caught up to Cindy and squeezed her shoulders before she got into the "66". I climbed into the "69" and Yuri immediately told me, "No sex and no kissing from here on. It can be used to compromise you. I know these assholes very well."
His words woke me up to the fact that I was missing how close Cindy and I had gotten in Novosibirsk...even if it hadn't turned completely sexual yet. I also realized that my desire to see Katerina again was growing. I wondered if I should tell Cindy about Katerina and my intention to go see her after we finished this operation. Knowing Cindy, she would not be fazed by it. I also wondered if Yuri or Toshek had told her about my strange meeting on the train with Katerina and Zhenia. These waves of sentimentality were coming at a time that I should have been more focused on the danger that everyone seemed convinced we were now exposing ourselves to. Maybe that was my oddball reaction to it. More than once in Moscow and in Kiev I had felt myself cornered in situations that I had gotten out of by the skin of my teeth but this felt different. Entering a place where the rules were made up by someone else and law was whatever the mafia boss said it was, felt very scary. Walking (or running) away from a meeting gone bad in a downtown hotel is a lot different from driving 30 miles through three hostile check points into a mafia controlled region that had no escape routes except for returning on the road we came in on in the vehicles that we were driving. It became obvious why Cindy was hypersensitive to getting separated while in the vast"mafia preserve".
I ventured to ask Yuri about his approach with our hosts for the next couple of days. I asked, "Do you have any special strategy or technique for dealing with these guys since we are completely surrounded in their territory? How will you keep control of the situation?"
"Money. People need a little money to open their door and then the promise of more money keeps that door open. Every request we make and every desire we or they have should involve the exchange of money or the clear promise of money. Some people will not move one centimeter for us without a cash payment. That cash should be with us all the time. Other people are interested in making a business. We are here to 'purchase' some equipment that fell out of the sky. We need a price and terms and conditions. If we cannot pay cash, then we need to convince someone that we are good for the bank transfer." Yuri said this very matter of factly as we were driving down the increasingly narrow and muddy road, leaving the highway in the distance.
"And are we good for a bank transfer if we suggest it?" I asked
"We've done it before and I am hoping that there is someone in this group that we have already dealt with so that there is some trust." Yuri answered.
"And what can I do to help guarantee our success?" I asked
"We want you to be the untouchable making them believe that there is big money for them. Joe says you work for big American companies sometimes and you know philosophy of big money. You must act like there is money behind you...not in your pockets. If we get what we came for, then our ticket out of here with the Soyuz devices will be cash (if we have enough) or a transfer payment for them and money in the future that seems guaranteed."
I pondered his money strategy for this mission but had to ask, "Two questions: What does 'untouchable' mean? ...and why do we promise money in the future? Why can't we pay for the devices and get the hell out? It seems like making promises for the future puts us at risk." I asked Yuri.
"Harming you or kidnapping you needs to be understood as blocking money and not a way to getting money...so you are untouchable. Answer to second question: Everyone wants to be part of big money. If we pay and try to leave, we'll never make it out because someone was not paid. Gatekeepers will open the gate as we leave if they see us as a future flow of money for them, too."
"And my last question: How does Vlad help you with this strategy?" I asked.
"Vlad takes care of paying the people that need cash immediately. These guys are always threatened and sometimes cheated by the big bosses. Vlad is scary but he also has big pockets filled with cash. Also, Vlad tries to watch for someone who might go crazy or loses control from alcohol. Something like rich bodyguard."
Thirty minutes on this muddy road and Yuri took a right at the first "Y" we came to. All of the signs for Dubrovnoye were pointing to the left and a sign for several lakes (Ozero) was to the right. I noticed a man with a walkie-talkie standing off to the side of the road partially hidden by scrub and some bushes. Yuri just shook his head up and down when I turned to see if he saw him or was going to react to him.
"Next intersection should be with welcoming committee." Yuri said without emotion. Seven or eight minutes later Yuri's prediction came true. Lights flashing ahead of us - flashlights pointed in our direction - grew to become six men (there may have been more that we did not see) in para-military type clothes armed with AK-47 short style automatic weapons (almost like Uzi's) and white holsters with small pistols...much like the Polish police carried throughout the country in the 80's.
Yuri reached under his seat quickly and pulled out a similarly styled automatic pistol with a large clip and put it on the seat between us. He rolled his window down and, while doing so, told me to roll my window down, too. We came to a stop and I could see in the mirror that the "66" was about 100 meters behind us and slowly approaching. There were already several men walking alongside the "66" as it was getting closer to the roadblock we were now stopped at. So, we were already outnumbered about 2 to 1 and I was sure there were others in the shadows around us. With the window down, I could hear the men standing near the "66" laughing and making jokes about the bicycle strapped on top of the cabin.
"American motorcycle perhaps? Where is the motor?"
"Toys for the childcare center, I think."
One of the men stepped forward to about three feet from Yuri's window, took his hat off and said, "Good evening! Here for some space parts?" At the same time, his younger twin, about 30 years old and focused on the weapon between Yuri and me, walked up to about the same distance from my window and stood silently.
Yuri: "Yes. Gostonov and Mays"
"OK...second vehicle?"
"They will tell you...maybe it's different for you than for me."
(Laughter)
"OK...go straight ahead about one kilometer. Don't leave this road. No sight seeing. There will be a big clearing with space for you and your camp at the opposite end of the clearing. You will see it. Bare dirt and some bushes for your latrine. Welcome to the Lakes."
As he was giving us instructions, I heard one of the "sentries" that joked about the bicycle, whistle and say, "There is a woman with them! Americans are very kind (or generous) to us!" Instead of jumping out of the "69" and telling them all to fuck themselves, I sat quietly and began to feel as if I was being dropped into a combat zone with only dollar bills to deflect bullets and beatings. A feeling of dread that I had never experienced came over me at exactly that moment. And, while the paralysis of that moment did not last very long. That feeling was constantly sitting on the periphery of my thoughts as I noticed my breathing had gotten very shallow. I instinctively put my finger to my wrist. My heart was racing over 200 beats per minute.
I wondered what Cindy was thinking now.
***
Yuri pulled up to the camp site, assessed what kind of configuration was best, and left enough room for the "66" so that the entry door to the "cage" was facing the bushes. My memories from that night are not so clear but I remember thinking that the bushes to our latrine were very dense and afforded a great hiding place for someone. I think Yuri saw them as excellent cover for us instead of effective hiding places for them. He stood in the lights of the "66" as Vlad pulled up and motioned how he wanted Vlad to position the truck. Vlad hesitated but did as Yuri showed. Toshek and Cindy jumped out of the cab as Vlad was maneuvering the "66" and were looking around to see if any of the welcoming committee had followed us here. We could hear voices in the distance but nothing that suggested we were being watched...as least very closely.
In a voice that was frantic but in a very low volume, Cindy said to me and Toshek, "Get as many lights lit as possible so that I can see everything within 100 meters of us!"
Toshek calmly responded, "Not a good idea. Our eyes will adjust soon. Let's keep light at low level. Set up your parabolic mics, let's have some tea, get this place organized, and you, Cindy, stay close. Maybe you go into the 'cage' and hand things down to us." Cindy agreed and climbed up into the cage where most of our things were. Between handing down cots and other supplies, I could see her putting on her earphones and testing her microphones. I noticed she was bringing down a heavier case that looked like it might have optical equipment in it and, on a hunch, I walked around and stepped up into the cage.
"Hey Cindy, are those night vision goggles?"
In Russian she answered, "You're fucking right they are! And if I don't catch these assholes sneaking up on me, I'll shove them up one of those fucker's ass!"
It is safe to say that I was not the only one who got spooked that first night at the Lakes.
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