The Nine Men (A Novella)

When Alexi looked at the screen again the list of results he was looking for appeared in front of his eyes. He smiled for the first time that day; his excited face glowing from the brisk walk and the light of the monitor.

  *

  Victor Canseliet wasn’t looking forward to the nine-hour flight to Paris even though, thanks to Rob, he was traveling first-class, on Air France. It was a return to the mundane existence he realized he was living. Yes, he was a minor celebrity and yes he travelled to conferences and gave speeches, but that wasn’t everything. The trip to India had excited him, ignited a thirst for adventure; but now it was over and far too quickly. He had decided to see a bit of the city during his last day in New Delhi before catching the flight home in the early hours.

  As he walked into the sunlit restaurant he could see Robert sitting at a window table ordering breakfast. Smiling, he joined him at his table

  ‘Good morning, Victor.’

  ‘Good morning. I trust you slept well?’

  Rob chuckled, ‘I think the wine had something to do with it.’

  Victor laughed before ordering a breakfast from the waitress who was waiting patiently near their table.

  ‘What do you think of the email?’ Robert enquired, quite nonchalantly.

  Victor looked confused. ‘What email?’ he asked taking his cellphone from his pocket. A moment later he was sitting open mouthed… ‘How did you know about it?’

  ‘It’s the book, isn’t it?’ Rob asked.

  ‘It can’t be anything else, Robert, it has to be the book,’ Victor replied, staring in disbelief at the images on his phone.

  ‘This guy must have found you on the internet and realized you were an expert on esoteric scripts. He has Book Nine without knowing what it is.’

  ‘Who is he?’ Victor asked.

  ‘We don’t know who he is or where he is, other than the email came from an internet cafe in Moscow. So…this is where you come in, Victor’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘… You need to befriend him and convince him that you need to see the book, as you’re visiting Russia in the near future it would be very opportunistic.’

  ‘I’m visiting Russia?’

  ‘We need to go to Moscow as soon as possible.’

  ‘Yes…yes we do. We need to go to Moscow,’ Victor repeated, excitedly. ‘But how did you know about…’

  ‘Linda, back home, has cancelled your flight to Paris and is working on visas as we speak. You will be visiting Russia for your own research purposes. I’m visiting as a representative of Harvard University, who, in 2008, returned the famous bells to the Holy Danilov Monastery in Moscow.’

  Victor frowned. ‘Bells? Returned? I don’t follow.’

  ‘Yes…Apparently they were going to be melted down by the communists so all eighteen bells were purchased by an American industrialist named Charles R Crane and were taken away and shipped to America for safety. Once there he donated them to the University, and, as I said, Harvard returned all eighteen bells in 2008. The biggest bell weighs thirteen tons! The Russians call it the Bolshoi or the Big One. Naturally, Harvard had their own name for it — They called it, “The Mother Earth Bell.”’

  ‘Fascinating!’ Victor exclaimed.

  ‘Yeah…Let’s just hope they believe my cover story…Once our flights and visas are ready we’re out of here. After we finish eating we need to agree a response to this man and find out exactly who he is and where the book is in Moscow.’

  ‘Let’s hope he’s not a Russian working in the Kremlin vaults.’

  ‘That would be the worst scenario, wouldn’t it? But on a positive note, at least we now know the book still exists. We just have to hope the Russian authorities don’t know about it.’

  Victor could not believe what was happening to him and when his scrambled eggs arrived he was so excited he struggled to eat anything. His mind was working overtime. ‘Is this just a coincidence — this email?’ he asked, pointing his fork at his cellphone. ‘Or is it something, that bastard, Shastri, has started?’

  Robert was staring out of the window, deep in thought. ‘Let’s hope it’s just coincidence, Victor; for all our sakes.’

  The Frenchman wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘It might not be all bad news, you know. That bastard, Shastri, has suggested that the manuscript is the mechanism to break the code and enable us to understand the book, but think about it for a moment, it doesn't make sense that one manuscript should be the key; unless it’s just one of a number of copies. And looking at the manuscript through expert eyes it doesn’t seem to give away too many clues.’

  ‘Let’s worry about that when we have the book in our possession.’

  ‘Very good point. So how’s your Russian, mon ami?’

  ‘Non existent I’m afraid.’

  Victor chuckled. ‘That makes two of us then.’

  Chapter 13

  When Alexi arrived back at the monastery he headed for the refectory, in need of a drink after the six mile round trip. He was excited by the response he’d received from Victor Canseliet but he knew he couldn't mention it to anybody. How lucky was he? He was going to meet the man, in Moscow. He had promised Victor to keep the book safe and show it to no one, until the French expert had had the chance to examine it. It was their secret and Alexi smiled smugly as he made his way to the tea urn.

  ‘You look pleased with yourself?’ The voice caused the monk to stop in his tracks, like a thief caught stealing.

  The monk turned to see the imposing figure of the Bishop walking towards him.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Bishop.’

  ‘Did I scare you, Alexi?’

  ‘No…no…I just wasn’t expecting to see you, that's all.’

  ‘How was your walk?’

  ‘I enjoyed it, thank you.’

  ‘Anywhere… special?’ The Bishop enquired.

  ‘No… nowhere special, just a good walk to stretch the legs.’

  The Bishop smiled; his cold eyes searching the monk for answers. ‘By the way, I’m expecting a visit from Bishop Yakunin from the Ukraine this afternoon. He will be staying for a few days and he has personally asked for you to visit him later tonight.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘I’m sure you want to be seen as a keen member of this church with a rosy future ahead of you, don’t you, brother?’

  ‘I…’

  ‘Good! I’m sure the Bishop will be delighted to see you again. Look after him well.’

  Alexi clenched his trembling hands and fought to control the anger boiling up inside him.

  ‘Discretion is a virtue, but you know that… don’t you, Alexi?’

  The monk’s head was bowed and his reluctant answer was lost in the vast hall.

  ‘Have you finished the report on the items going back to the Cathedral?’

  ‘I will have it finished tomorrow, Bishop.’

  ‘Excellent, bring it to me in my office as soon as it’s ready. I’m very keen to know exactly what is going back.’ Alexi watched as the pensive figure of the Bishop walked away with hands folded behind his back. As he reached the door he stopped in his tracks and turned around. ‘Oh… I nearly forgot. Please clean one of the Golf Polo’s ready for the Bishop to use while he’s here…Actually, do both of them while you’re at it, it makes good sense; inside and out.’ He turned slowly and walked out of the building into the sunshine.

  Standing alone in the hall, Alexi held his trembling hands out in front of him before clenching them into fists. His earlier euphoria had rapidly vanished with the news of the Ukrainian Bishop’s visit. The dirty, perverted bastard that he hated with a vengeance.

  Demoralized, he walked back to his dormitory and sat on his bed in silence. Tears filled his eyes as he slouched on the bed. Eventually he stood up and walked to his wardrobe in the corner of the room. He opened the door, bent down and lifted the clean bed sheets to expose the book he’d decided was now his. If it was valuable then he would sell it and get out of this hell-hole, never to return. He would go to Europe
or America and be someone. Not a bum-boy for these depraved pigs, but someone who could hold his head up high as he walked down the street.

  Young man how do you fancy earning five-dollars cleaning my Cadillac?

  Five-dollars! Yes please, Alexi.

  A smile returned to his face. One day…one day.

  *

  Commander Leonid Tsvetaeva’s leg hurt, more than it had ever hurt before. He limped, noticeably, as he approached Veronika Glazkov’s office. Why today, of all days? He mused.

  Following behind him were four, young graduates from the Lomonosov, Moscow State University.

  The Commander knocked on the glass door of the librarian’s office and walked in, followed, tentatively, by the four students he’d waved in.

  Veronica stood up from behind her desk. ‘Commander; come in,’ she said, with a hint of sarcasm in her tone that was missed my Leonid Tsvetaeva.

  ‘I have brought you the extra help, as I promised.’

  She looked at the three girls and the boy, standing in a huddle next to the door entrance.

  ‘They are from the university and all of them are studying literature.’

  Veronica watched as the commander slumped onto a chair. ‘Are you okay,’ she asked.

  ‘Yes…yes…I’m okay,’ he said sternly; dismissing her concern with a wave of his hand.

  ‘Well, come in and sit down. I won’t bite you… I promise,’ she said to the students, who smiled back nervously and shuffled clumsily to the chairs around a white, circular table.

  The commander lit a cigarette and forced himself into a standing position. ‘I have things to do, so I will leave you to carry on. Remember what I told you.’ Limping, he walked out of the office in a cloud of smoke, leaving the door open behind him.

  Veronica smiled at the students. ‘I apologize for him; he is not a nice man.’

  One of the girl students said, quietly, ‘He scares me.’

  ‘Me too,’ said another. ‘And to think we are being groomed to work for his organization.’

  The male student said. ‘I wouldn't worry, he smokes too much. I doubt if he’ll be around by the time we graduate.’

  ‘That’s quite enough of that talk, thank you, he’s gone now and it’s time for a coffee. Come on, give me a hand while you introduce yourselves and I’ll explain what I want you to do for me.’

  Without the commander there, the atmosphere around the table was relaxed and the students were sipping their coffees and enjoying cookies, listening with interest to the librarian, as she explained the various symbols they were looking for, using a set of hand-drawn scripts on sheets of paper spread out in front of them.

  ‘I’ll give each of you copies of these to take away with you on your search.’

  Surprisingly, the students seemed to accept the task without much enquiry as to why they were looking for such an unusual book; which actually suited the librarian, because she really wasn’t sure herself.

  ‘Svetlana, I want you to visit the Cathedral.’

  The thin-faced student with short, cropped dark hair nodded in agreement.

  ‘Viktoriya, I want you to visit the Holy Danilov Monastery.’

  The tall, slim girl with ice-blue eyes and fair hair that hung in ringlets over her shoulders, smiled her approval. ‘I’ve always wanted to visit that place, but I’ve never been able to find the time,’ she said, excitedly.

  Chapter 14

  Morning prayers had finished by 5.30am and Alexi headed to the refectory for breakfast. He noticed there were boiled eggs to compliment the oatmeal and bread and asked for two. He filled his bowl with oatmeal from the steaming cauldron and grabbed a large chunk of bread before joining other monks at a long table bathed in the early morning rays of the sun.

  ‘Good morning, brothers,’ he said, cheerfully.

  ‘Someone’s in a good mood!’ commented one of the monks.

  Alexi replied smugly. ‘I’ve finished working in the vaults, that’s why.’

  ‘What were you doing down there, anyway?’ asked another.

  ‘Checking what items are going back to the Cathedral.’

  ‘You get all the good jobs, brother,’ said another around the table, and laugher echoed around the hall.

  ‘Come on, let’s hear you do the Bishop,’ goaded a fat monk at the end of the bench.

  Alexi quickly scanned the hall before clearing his throat. Frowning, he said in a guttural tone: ‘Come here Alexi, I have a very important job for you today.’ The impressive impersonation sparked a spontaneous outburst of laughter and applause.

  It was 9.30 when Alexi, carrying a brown folder, arrived at the Bishop’s office. He tapped the door and waited.

  ‘Come in.’

  He opened the door and walked in. The Bishop was sitting behind his desk writing something and only looked up some moments later. ‘Ah, Brother Alexi, please sit down.’

  As the monk settled down in front of the desk the Bishop’s phone rang.

  ‘Good morning, Bishop Remizov, speaking….’

  Alexi watched as the bearded Bishop listened in silence for some time.

  Eventually, he spoke. ‘Well, Commander, I can assure you we will do all we can to assist her. At what time will she arrive?…I see…Yes of course, Commander.’ Deep in thought the Bishop replaced the phone and looked up. ‘That was a Commander Tsvetaeva from the FSB. He is sending someone here today to try and find a book.’

  Alexi sat upright. ‘A book?… What kind of a book, Bishop?’

  ‘A very old one that apparently has strange writing… Did you come across something like that when you did your inventory?’ The Bishop asked.

  Alexi shook his head. ‘No… but what do you mean by strange writing?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. You handle it, I don’t have the time for this kind of thing. Someone, a woman, from FSB is coming here in one hour. Make sure we co-operate with her. I do not want to cause any problems. This is the FSB we’re dealing with.’ The Bishop leaned forward resting both his hands on the desk. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes, Bishop.’

  ‘Leave me now,’ the Bishop said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘We’ll do this inventory thing another time.’

  Alexi stood up and left the office in silence.

  *

  Viktoriya Pushkina’s instructions were simple; arrive at the main entrance to the monastery at 10.30am where she would be met by a representative of the church. Her dictate was clear. She would have unrestricted access to all church buildings and property in an effort to locate the book.

  But the task ahead made her nervous. She was only a student of Russian literature and here she was approaching the monastery in a role decided by the FSB.

  Her mouth was dry as she walked towards the entrance. She could see a monk, dressed in black ,watching her as she approached and her cheeks began to blush. It had been over a year since she’d worn a dress and she worried that it might be too short for the occasion. As she walked she pulled her overcoat closed to cover her dress. Her shoes were beginning to hurt again and she wished she’d chosen a more practical pair.

  As she approached the monk, he smiled. ‘You must be Viktoriya Pushkina from the FSB?’ He asked, holding out a welcoming hand.

  ‘Yes, that’s me,’ she said, as they shook hands.

  ‘My name is Alexi, and I’m here to assist you today.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Please follow me. I’ve set up a work-place for you in the library.’ Alexi could sense that the agent was self conscious; and very young, to be working for the FSB; very young and very beautiful. ‘Do you have any idea how long this will take, he asked as they walked?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t…Would you mind slowing down a little…it’s my shoes you see. I…’

  Alexi chuckled. ‘Of course…I’m sorry. I walk everywhere at a-hundred-miles-an-hour. It’s just habit.’

  ‘Then you should try walking in these.’

  Alexi laughe
d. ‘I’ve never met an FSB agent before. Are they all like you?’

  Viktoriya immediately thought of Commander Tsvetaeva. ‘…I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not really an FSB agent. I’m studying Russian literature and economics at the Lomonosov University. I’m being groomed to work for the FSB when I graduate.’

  Alexi frowned. ‘Groomed?’

  ‘Yes, the FSB take the best of the graduates. You don’t really have a say in the matter…and they are now paying my tuition fees, so I’m in a very difficult situation; I’ve sold my soul to the Devil…so to speak.’

  ‘They take the cream of the crop.’

  Viktoriya smiled at the compliment.

  Alexi opened a door and gestured to Viktoriya to enter. The library room was some thirty-feet by seventy-five-feet long and wall-to-wall books, with a reading area in the middle of the room illuminated by a number of desk lamps.

  ‘I thought this would be the best place to start,’ Alexi said, pointing to a couple of chairs. ‘Can I take your coat?’

  ‘…I’m okay…thank you.’

  ‘I understand. You get used to the cold here after a while…’

  The student smiled awkwardly as she sat down.

  ‘Can you tell me exactly what you want to achieve today, Miss Pushkina?’

  ‘I’m looking for a book.’

  ‘We have lots of them!’ Alexi pointed to the shelves.

  ‘We have over nine-million at the university!’

  ‘Well, I’m very glad we’re not looking there.’

  ‘So am I…This is a special book; very different; it’s written in a strange script never seen before, apparently, and it’s very old; so it should be fairly easy to spot.’ Viktoriya reached into her coat and pulled out a piece of folded paper. She opened it and offered it to Alexi. ‘This is the kind of script we’re looking for.’

  Alexi showed no emotion as he immediately recognized the familiar script

  ‘Have you seen anything like this?’

  ‘…No…I’m afraid I haven’t. What’s so special about the book, anyway?’

  ‘I really don't know, but the FSB want it, so it must be quite important.’

  ‘Do you think it’s valuable?’

  ‘I have no idea. But there are eight people looking for it, so I guess it must be valuable to somebody.’…