Бесплатный фрагмент - Treasure hunters

Note from the author

Dear reader, thank you for choosing my work. I hope reading it will bring you a lot of positive emotions and arouse your interest.

The novel is set in the present day, but uses real historical events and figures to unfold the plot. It makes no claim to historical or factual accuracy, and any changes are incidental and intended to enhance the reader’s immersion in the story.

Enjoy reading!

Shadows of Liberea: The Secret of Ivan the Terrible’s Library

Prologue

1699. Novodevichy Convent

The loud clack of jackboot heels echoed loudly down the long, narrow corridor. The thick black leather shimmered in the light of the torches hanging on either side of the passage, illuminating the stone cellars with a dim, reddish glow. The damp cobblestone floor carried the sound of footsteps, punctuated by the clanking of canes, for tens of feet.

An atmosphere of hopelessness and gloom weighed heavily on everyone who, by fate’s will, found themselves in this place, except for one, who valued its inaccessibility as the most important feature, serving as a kind of guarantee of safety and peace. The visitor’s immense height prevented him from fully straightening up in these catacombs beneath the church vaults of the Novodevichy Convent. A giant, nearly six feet tall, a full head taller than any crowd he had ever stood amidst, he was perfectly aware of his physical peculiarities, yet they rarely bothered him. He walked with a steady gait, reflecting absolute self-confidence and the steadfastness of his resolve, though these were merely imaginary qualities as perceived by his contemporaries. Narrow shoulders, small feet, and excessively long legs caused their owner incredible discomfort when moving, forcing him to periodically lean on a stingray-hide cane with a one-feet-long hardened steel blade that could be drawn from its sheath at the right moment. Smoothing his English mustache, the man reached the exit, ascending to the strelets guardhouse near the Naprudnaya Tower. It was guarded by two loyal soldiers from the Semenovsky and Preobrazhensky regiments, who, upon recognizing the unexpected guest, immediately parted, allowing him to enter, unlocking the heavy oak bolt.

The visitor entered the chambers and saw before him a huge stove decorated with tiles, as well as vaulted ceilings that, although significantly higher than those beneath which the man had passed, nevertheless, despite his constant confinement within, created an incredibly oppressive feeling of being in a «golden cage.» A hunched and frightened woman stood in the corner. She had never been beautiful, and her excessive plumpness was off-putting at first glance. At the same time, her saber-like intellect and insight, combined with her incredible erudition and ability to calculate her actions several steps ahead, made her an unusually dangerous adversary. The woman should have already been dressed in monastic habit, but concessions were made for royalty, and the conditions in these chambers were, to put it mildly, extraordinary. She gazed intently out the window, where the decomposing and stinking corpses of three Streltsy had been hanging for several months after their failed rebellion. To preserve the bodies as long as possible, soldiers periodically removed the dead, replaced them with comrades, bound them tightly with chains, and then hung them up again. In total, more than one hundred and fifty people underwent this procedure, creating an additional oppressive and oppressive atmosphere.

The woman’s gaze constantly lingered on one of the executed men, holding a piece of paper, folded like a petition, tied to his bony hands. It was this scroll that was meant to remind her of her poor decision and the letter she had written to overthrow the government at the opportune moment of the Tsar’s departure abroad.

The visitor entered the center of the room and paused silently, staring intently at his sister, who had become so distant and alien to him. «Hello, Susanna,» he said in a hoarse voice. The woman turned, fixing him with an angry gaze. With all her being, she wanted to growl that her name was Sophia, but at that moment she merely bowed and smiled, saying, «Hello, great sovereign, why have you honored my base existence with your radiant presence?» The Tsar ignored the provocation and calmly continued, «Let us not dwell on the sad; I did not come here to rebel.» «Then why, great sovereign?» the princess continued to writhe, like a snake, ready to pounce on her adversary in a moment of weakness.

«Where is she?» the visitor hissed, completely enraged. «Who then? I don’t understand?» Sophia replied, smiling falsely. «Don’t mock me, you know what we’re talking about!» the sovereign said, raising his voice. «I know, but you’ll never find her, don’t even try. Especially since I’ve traveled to the Germans, my brother, I’ll never see your face again,» the princess declared smiling. The visitor became enraged and shouted, «Shut up, you bastard, and say what I’m asking.» Sophia only laughed even louder, and then declared, «After all he’s done, I would never tell him, and especially not you, great sovereign. You can torture me, kill me, but I still won’t tell you, I’ve forgotten myself.» After this, the king roared even louder, but still left the chamber, loudly slamming the heavy metal door behind him, and headed back down the corridor.

He encountered Menshikov in high spirits. The favorite was striking in appearance: tall, well-built, lean, with pleasant features and very lively eyes. However, it was far from these qualities that had earned him such a high position. Coming from the very bottom of Russian society, Menshikov could not pass up an opportunity to get his hands on some money or another. He wielded incredible influence over the Tsar thanks to his resourcefulness and sycophancy, making him perhaps the richest man in the country. Franz Lefort had recently died, and Menshikov found himself the Tsar’s only truly close confidant, becoming his right-hand man. «Did you confess?» he asked the Tsar with interest. The Tsar merely shook his head, continuing to walk silently, absorbed in himself, his every step echoing loudly. «Secretly search the entire Kremlin and find her,» the monarch finally answered, breaking away from his thoughts.

Chapter 1

1980. Moscow. Kolomenskoye

«Lift it!» came a shout from somewhere in the basement, and a large construction crane began smoothly lifting its hook, tearing out a section of the ancient ceiling. «Come on, more,» said a pleasant-looking middle-aged worker, covered in dust, climbing out of the hole and adjusting his orange hard hat.

In Moscow, preparations were in full swing for the 1980 Olympics, which was to be the largest international tournament held in the entire Soviet Union. Naturally, the party couldn’t afford to lose face, so a boom in construction and renovations unfolded everywhere, including the ancient Church of the Beheading of John the Baptist, located in the now-defunct village of Dyakovo, on a hill on the right bank of the Moskva River, where the royal residence stood in the 16th century. The church overlooked the famous Golosov Ravine, which, according to ancient legends, harbored a wealth of mysticism and supernatural phenomena. According to one version, the name is associated with the Slavic pagan god Veles, while others suggest that in ancient times, the voices of travelers overtaken by robbers were heard from the ravine. Another legend holds that it was here that St. George the Victorious fought the dragon. However, there are more interesting historical facts described in the Sofia Vremennik: in 1621, a small detachment of Tatar horsemen appeared at the gates of the sovereign’s palace, captured by the guards guarding the gates. They revealed that they were warriors of Khan Devlet Giray, whose troops had attempted to capture Moscow in 1571 but were routed. The detachment of Crimeans, fleeing, descended into a deep ravine, shrouded in green fog.

The investigation conducted by Tsar Mikhail Feodorovich revealed the veracity of the story, since the weapons and equipment of the Tatar warriors did not correspond to that time, but resembled the very outdated models of the previous century.

Somewhere in the distance, the rumble of an excavator could be heard, digging through the old church cemetery. According to the plan, only the church was supposed to remain of the entire ancient complex. Just as the crane had finally uprooted part of the remaining ceiling, an entire section of stonework in the wall began to collapse, startling the worker. Terrified, he jumped aside, trying to get out, but the collapse stopped as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind only a trail of debris and construction dust.

Surveying his surroundings with a calmer gaze, the foreman was about to climb out of the hole when his gaze fell on the spot where the collapse had just occurred. Looking closer and shaking out large fragments, he realized that just beyond the blocked-up wall, a passage led deeper into the depths, and a sudden, howling draft of air from the street began to blow in. Taking a large hammer and chisel, the worker began chipping away at the upper layers of the masonry until he came upon a small window, clearly visible through which the passage, hidden for centuries, extended far downwards.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of his partner, who had clearly lost his companion: «Vanya, where did you disappear to? Is everything okay?» He abandoned his work and began climbing outside until he saw bright sunlight. «What’s taking so long?» the crane driver asked rudely, reminding his companion, who had lost track of time, that they were supposed to be doing something completely different. «There’s a passage there, a hatch that’s not on the drawings!» Ivan began excitedly, pointing down the way he’d come. «What? What’s there?» his comrade asked in surprise, jumping out of the truck. «Look, I’ll get the site manager,» the worker continued, running toward the main tent.

Elated by the discovery, he rushed into the desired location, feeling the puzzled gaze of the group leader, who had been carefully studying the reconstruction project’s documentation. He pushed his thick glasses up onto his wrinkled forehead, combed his bangs, and asked in surprise, «Vinogradov, what happened?» Ivan exhaled heavily, clutching his side, before haltingly answering, «There’s a passage there. It wasn’t on any map, and it goes somewhere deep down. «Show me,» Spiridonov said, intrigued, jumping up. Together, they quickly reached the spot where the crane operator remained, carefully examining the crack Ivan had created. «Incredible!» the site manager marveled. «Don’t touch anything, there’s a risk of a collapse. I’ll notify the crew immediately. We need to suspend all work immediately!»

The next day, Vinogradov, who had been carefully monitoring the excavation site for two days to prevent prying eyes from discovering his discovery, noticed three figures in the distance: Spiridonov, animatedly explaining something to his two companions. As soon as they caught up with Ivan, he noticed that one of them was a fat, pompous turkey in a tightly buttoned suit, proudly displaying a red hammer and sickle badge. The other stranger was thin, tall, and pleasant-looking, but something about his demeanor aroused suspicion, as his entire appearance clearly clashed with the inner fire in his soul that he carefully concealed.

Spiridonov said animatedly, «So, under my watchful eye, we’ve discovered a passageway forgotten for centuries, dating back to the time of Ivan the Terrible. It may hold more than one secret, since it was so carefully hidden.» He then asked Vinogradov to show them what the visitors had come for. The worker was furious that his superior had claimed credit for his discovery, but he nonetheless made a neutral gesture, inviting them to follow him. Descending underground, the group found the passageway just as Ivan had left it the day before. The official’s eyes lit up, eager to claim credit for this discovery, just as Spiridonov had done a moment earlier. «This is remarkable,» he hissed, licking his lips with glee. In contrast, the second visitor was as calm as a boa constrictor, not uttering a word. «I understand you stopped all work for this?» he asked unexpectedly. «Of course, we don’t want our cultural heritage to be accidentally damaged by excavations,» said the site manager, deeply alarmed by the question. «You need to immediately concrete the passage and continue the work,» declared the visitor, placing his hands on his waist. «But how? Then we won’t know what’s hidden beneath this church. Legend has it that the famous Libereya could be located there, but what if it really is here, right under our noses!» Spiridonov declared indignantly, blushing with anger. «The Olympics are just months away, and here you are, tearing everything up and not finishing it! You want THIS for our capital’s guests to see, and all the events to be cancelled?» the visitor began to scold him with surprising expressiveness, feeling the official’s astonished gaze on him. «Well, I didn’t even think of that,» the group leader stammered, clearly aware of what was at stake. «Should you have thought about it before stopping the excavations, or should I inform Comrade Brezhnev that your actions are jeopardizing the possibility of holding the Olympics?» the stranger continued to scold him. «No, of course not, we’ll resume work today, everything will be finished on time,» Spiridonov whispered.

«Well, that’s great, we’ll keep an eye on it, that’s for sure,» the visitor concluded his impassioned speech and climbed back out. The official merely shrugged and followed him, leaving Vinogradov and the site supervisor alone in front of the hole. «Fill it in immediately,» the other muttered discontentedly. Ivan wanted to say something against it, but, feeling the supervisor’s murderous gaze on him, he remained silent. That same evening, he watched with bitterness as a concrete mixer arrived on the site and poured the mixture through a construction hose into his opening, completely concealing it from posterity.

Chapter 2

Nowadays

«Are you absolutely certain of your theory?» Taras Prikhodko asked, strolling through the park in the rays of the setting evening sun. Warm red glare gently touched the leaves of the trees in Kolomenskoye Park, the recently restored Golosov Ravine lay beneath his feet, and in the distance, the Church of the Ascension of Our Lord peeked out from behind the treetops, wrapped in a green blanket.

This summer has been truly hot, the most muggy in recent memory. Therefore, the pleasant evening coolness allowed us to cool off after a scorching day in the scorching, bustling city, while at the same time keeping warm at night, when the temperature plummets and a chilling wind comes out into the open spaces, chilling us to the bone after a hot day.

«Of course,» replied Valery, a thirty-year-old man confidently, shuffling along the park paths with a playful gait, as if simultaneously engaged in some unknown competition with an invisible opponent. Vinogradov had graduated from university with a degree in plastic surgery, a field his parents had forced him to choose at seventeen, but since then, he had never worked a single day in the profession. From his very first class, the man — still a young man — knew this occupation was clearly not what he wanted to dedicate his life to, long or short, as fate would have it.

From childhood, he’d been fascinated by two things: cars and history. While he mastered the former as soon as he got his driver’s license and got behind the wheel of his first car, the latter was far more interesting and complex. Initially, Vinogradov wasn’t much of an expert on the past, and it didn’t particularly capture his attention in elementary school. However, the years passed, and young Valera found himself alone in his room with his grandfather after school. His parents had gone out on business, and spending time with his grandson brought him a special joy and an incredible thrill. And then, they reached the section on Ivan the Terrible. Everything seems fine, events unfold as usual, historical plots and themes intertwine, the clear sequence of conquered lands and the monstrous Oprichnina are etched in the memory. However, suddenly, his gaze catches a small paragraph at the end, which tells of the irrevocably lost and mysterious Libereya — the Tsar’s library, assembled by his grandmother, Sophia Paleologue, wife of Ivan III. An animated Valera tells his grandfather about what he’s read, and the grandfather unexpectedly finds a kindred spirit in the boy’s delighted eyes. He leads him to the Church of the Beheading of John the Baptist, restored decades ago, shows him the buried site where he discovered the mysterious tunnel, and declares that it is there, behind this tunnel, that the legendary library may be hidden.

Years passed, and his grandfather died suddenly, but Vinogradov never lost interest in Libereya. Quite the contrary, it grew by leaps and bounds. The young man devoured books, ancient scrolls, and online articles — basically, anything that related to the topic he was interested in. Valery couldn’t let go of this thought; he tried to hold onto it by the tail, like a bird caught by chance, and not let go, hoping to someday find what he was looking for and find himself next to Ivan the Terrible in that very same history section of his sixth-grade textbook.

Taras gave him a stern, focused look, perfectly suited to any situation, given his monstrously large and muscular frame, as well as his perpetually dissatisfied and serious expression. «I hope you’re right, otherwise it was all for nothing. If only you knew what it would have cost me to negotiate the reconstruction of a technically sound cultural heritage site, and even hold a sham tender so no one would complain,» he declared, looking around in the hope that no one had overheard. «Why couldn’t we have done it differently, just come and start digging?» Vinogradov asked, naive for his age, looking at his interlocutor in surprise. Prikhodko cursed silently, but declared, «Because that would have raised questions and attention. This way, we’ve calmly blocked off all approaches to the church and will begin our work without anyone watching.»

After that, they walked for several minutes in complete silence, which was suddenly broken by Valery: «Of course, when you showed up two weeks ago and told me you were ready to help me find the treasure, I was shocked, to say the least. Why would this happen all of a sudden, after so many years?» «You know,» Taras replied, «at university, you kept me talking about this Liberea and your grandfather’s discovery in Kolomenskoye. Naturally, I hadn’t heard anything about it at first, but then, when I read the sources on the subject and saw its significance for the entire world, I immediately became enthusiastic about the idea too.»

At that moment, they approached the temple walls, where construction equipment had already been brought in for the job, and the excavation area was cordoned off. Looking carefully at his men and adjusting the pistol in its holster on his belt, Prikhodko began waving his arms, inviting them to come closer. «I hope you and your grandfather were right,» Taras declared, «otherwise, for all the money you wasted, I’ll have to kill you.» Hearing these words and taking them for an incredible level of irony, Vinogradov laughed. However, his interlocutor’s gaze was incredibly serious and fixed on the empty temple wall.

Chapter 3

Together, Taras and Valery, holding flashlights, walked through the dark church. Visibility was poor in the dim light, but a small source of light from the setting sun shone faintly through small, vertical, narrow windows somewhere near the high ceiling.

«Something tells me this is all in vain,» Prikhodko whispered under a curse. «What makes you think that?» Vinogradov asked in surprise, turning to him and shining the flashlight in his face, causing him to quickly turn away, blinded by the bright white beam. «I’ve read a lot about this in recent months, but only a few people talk about Kolomenskoye. The Kremlin, Vologda, Alexandrov, even Staritsa, but this little church next to the estate of Alexei Mikhailovich, Peter the Great’s father — where could a library be hidden?» Taras began listing, trying to recall everything he’d studied. «Oh, no, you’re completely wrong about that,» Valery countered, turning the light away. «There’s a theory that the church was founded in honor of the Tsar’s coronation in January 1547. There’s also an equally curious theory that its construction is connected to a vow to send the Tsar an heir, or to the very fact of his son’s birth.» Thus, the church is directly connected to Ivan the Terrible himself, not only by the birth of his children, Ivan and Dmitry, but also by his coronation. The Tsar himself was also born in Kolomenskoye. Moreover, Ivan IV stopped here on his way to campaigns against the Kazan Khanate. In the twentieth century, this idea was seized upon by archaeologist Ignat Stelletsky, who heard a story from a former church caretaker about how he and a friend once found a key and opened a small door they had long noticed in the church wall. They descended a narrow stone staircase and discovered iron doors and a decayed skeleton. However, the church was soon renovated, and the secret staircase was hidden under layers of new brick. In 1938, at a depth of 21 feet, an archaeologist came across massive stonework, but excavation work was halted because it was being conducted on cemetery grounds, and local residents demanded an end to this sacrilege. «And most importantly, in 1980, my grandfather carried out the reconstruction of the church for the Olympics.» «You’ve told me this a thousand times,» Prikhodko interrupted. But Vinogradov persisted: «And he repeatedly showed me the place where he had definitely found a passage leading somewhere deep, which matches Stelletsky’s description.»

Having finished his story, Valery fell silent, glancing sideways at his interlocutor, who continued walking, stony-faced, without uttering a word. Together, they walked toward the altar and stopped at the wall that once overlooked the church cemetery, now demolished in the 1980s. Large boxes of ground-penetrating radars, essentially ground-penetrating radars that use high-resolution electromagnetic waves to image underground structures, were already waiting for them there. Naturally, the group wasn’t planning to break anything without first studying the soil, so the first order of business was to conduct a georeconnaissance survey.

Upon turning on the device, the screen lit up, with vertical stripes gradually forming into a single image. After waiting for a while, the companions discovered that directly ahead lay a hidden depression, about 3 feet wide, leading toward the cemetery. Overjoyed by this discovery, Taras took the radio from his belt and said, «Bogdan, Mykola, dig.» From outside, the rumble of an excavator, its thick teeth clawing at the earth, could be heard. «Get going,» Prikhodko said loudly, clapping Valery on the shoulder before heading toward the exit. Valery merely stood silently in the darkened room, his head cocked upward, gazing at the bottom of the large domed vault, as if pleading for something. Then, he finished his lamentation and followed his comrade toward the discovery.

Stepping outside, Vinogradov was stunned to see the construction equipment’s bucket rest against a huge layer of concrete, with chunks of old and coated masonry peeling away just beyond. Then he noticed Taras’s satisfied expression, watching the process and waving his arms vigorously. «Come on, break it up, faster!» he shouted at his subordinates, approaching the edge of the pit. The excavator operator activated a special vibration mode and, like a knife through butter, began piercing the target area, attempting to break it into pieces. This process continued for half an hour, until Bogdan finally used the bucket to lift the broken mass, releasing air and construction dust.

As soon as it settled, Prikhodko waved his hand sharply, signaling the equipment to stop, and approached. The resulting gap revealed an ancient passageway, filled with an incredible mustiness that slowly began to dissipate as soon as oxygen opened up. Reaching it, Valery inhaled the stench deeply and then declared, «It looks like all the khan’s scrolls are starved of air; they should be kept in a well-ventilated room.» «Don’t croak!» Prikhodko growled, beckoning Bogdan and Mykola to him. «Come down and see what’s down there!» «But you don’t know how safe it is down there, what if there’s a cave-in?» the former asked, but upon seeing the commander’s murderous glare, who began reaching for his belt holster, he replied that he would do everything he could.

The two of them found themselves in a narrow, dark corridor, seemingly endless in the all-consuming gloom. The stonework weighed heavily not only on them, but also on them, as it could collapse at any moment if the structure’s seal was breached. Turning on their flashlights, they realized the passageway was twisting in place, running in a semicircle across roughly the same area. Overcoming their fears and finally reaching the end, they found themselves directly in front of a locked door, clearly revealing some hidden chamber. Quickly returning, they reported their discovery to Taras. «It’s just as Stelletsky described. No skeleton?» Vinogradov declared joyfully. The researchers paused for a moment, then shook their heads. «To hell with it,» Prikhodko admonished him. «What door? A grinder would do it?» While his partner was pondering what to say, Mykola replied, «The metal one, yeah, I think so, take the battery-powered one.» The team leader nodded, went into a large black SUV, and pulled out an orange hard hat with a flashlight from the trunk, along with a few ropes, just in case, which he tied to his belt. He also opened one of the drawers containing a battery-powered angle grinder, connected them, and returned to the guys, who were burning with anticipation. «Well,» Taras declared, tossing the grinder into Valery’s hands, «let’s dig her up and prove you were right all these years, just like your grandfather!»

Chapter 4

Together, the four of them walked down a long, narrow, dark corridor. Surprisingly, the ground was completely dry, despite the large amount of underground water. The light from Taras’s helmet, leading the way, illuminated their path into the unexplored depths of the catacombs, hidden from view for centuries.

Finally, they reached the door they were looking for. Black, divided into squares of varying sizes, with hinges monstrous by modern standards, a gigantic metal bolt and a thick lock holding it in place. It had seen many times, but, unfortunately, over all these centuries, few had been able to lay eyes on it. Prikhodko smiled with satisfaction, took the grinder from Valery’s hands, and began sawing at the hinged element. An incredible crunch was heard, and the squeal of cutting metal quickly spread throughout the hallway, echoing off the stone walls. Vinogradov watched the process, mesmerized, lost in his thoughts. He still couldn’t believe that what he had dreamed of for so many years was finally coming true, happening right before his eyes. His grandfather turned out to be right, and Stelletsky too, and now they have all written their names in gold letters in the history of Kolomenskoye, at least the modern one.

The irritating beeping didn’t last long, and the lock split sharply in two, after which Taras switched off his device. Taking a step back, he kicked it off its hinges, sending it flying a foot and a half to the side, causing his companions to freeze in surprise. Throwing back the metal bolt, Prikhodko yanked the door handle with all his might, and it began to open with an incredible squeak, dragging heavily and scraping the floor. Over many centuries of neglect and lack of lubrication, it had sagged to the floor and rusted. «Help,» he hissed, blushing from the effort and bracing his foot against the wall for added leverage. Valery broke away from his thoughts and stepped closer, grabbing the edge of the gate leading to the unknown, pulling it toward him. Bogdan and Mykola followed suit. Together, they pulled it out of the doorway with incredible effort, causing it to fall off its hinges with a loud crash, forcing the unexpected visitors to jump aside. As it fell to the floor, it kicked up a cloud of dust that quickly spread toward the exit, triggering coughing fits among everyone present.

After dusting himself off, Taras looked beyond the obstacle he’d just overcome and spotted a spacious room, devoid of any light. «Please,» he declared, stepping inside in the hopes of finding the treasure he sought. The others followed silently, barely able to see anything in front of them. Stopping right in the middle of the hidden room, Prikhodko looked around and turned white with anger. The room was a circle no more than 12 or 15 feet in diameter, without a single window or other exit. The bare walls held no hint of shelves, books, or scrolls, only three lonely, long-extinguished torches. Precisely in the center stood a pedestal of wood resembling oak, upon which an ordinary broom, about 3 feet long, was carefully placed, like an exhibit.

After searching the room again and finding nothing else, Taras roared and, at full speed, grabbed Valery by the chest. Valery, who had just entered and hadn’t even had time to react, pinned him against the wall, causing incredible pain to his back from the surprise. «You said the treasure would be here!» Prikhodko screamed in rage, glaring at his victim with animal eyes, wanting to finish him off right there. Coughing violently, Vinogradov glanced at the room’s furnishings and, finding no hint of Liberea, not even a single scroll, understood his comrade’s displeasure. «I said she might be here, but that’s just one of the possibilities,» he groaned, fibbing as he went, hoping to reassure his comrade. Bogdan and Mykola stood silently, motionless, watching the ensuing squabble. «Oh no,» Taras objected, «I remember your words clearly, don’t lead me by the nose! Tens of millions in bribes for a rigged tender and equipment purchase, so much effort in preparation and persuasion to participate in this shady reconstruction scheme! And all for what? For a common broom!»

He abruptly released Valery, causing him to fall to the floor, his knees hitting the stones. He then approached the pedestal, grabbed the exhibit, swung it, and began to bring it down, intending to snap it in half in anger. At that moment, Vinogradov saw three carved symbols illuminated by a flashlight on the broomstick and shouted, «Stop, there are hidden symbols here!» Frozen, before he could complete his retribution, Prikhodko looked at him, then carefully examined the object in his hands. Indeed, three symbols had been carefully carved directly into the wooden handle: two lions facing in opposite directions, and a double-headed eagle in the middle, with crowns over each of the birds’ heads.

Then the puzzle came together for him, and he declared, «There was never any treasure here, this is the key!» Valery glared at the amused Taras, cleared his throat, and came closer, carefully examining the drawing. «The broom is clearly a symbol of the Oprichnina. G. Staden once wrote that the oprichniks were supposed to wear black caftans and hats, as well as some kind of brush or broom tied to a stick. So this is a sign that Ivan the Terrible hid the library at this particular time, apparently fearing for its safety, believing that his enemies would find it and seize it. He was a very intelligent man and no less well-read, despite his image as a cruel ruler, and he wanted to pass on his treasure to his descendants. But, apparently, something went wrong.» «And what do these symbols mean?» «Taras asked, looking closely at each of them. «The eagle is clear — a symbol of statehood dating back to Ivan III. But what about the lions? Why are there two of them?» Vinogradov thought for a few seconds, observing how their mouths gaped in different directions, as if ready to say something, but what? «The lion is definitely a historical symbol of Vladimir, next to which is the Aleksandrovskaya Sloboda — the capital during the Oprichnina, where Ivan the Terrible spent most of his time from 1564 to 1581. Perhaps we should dig further in this direction,» he said thoughtfully. «This is a huge complex; we can’t look for a needle in a haystack,» Taras countered, pacing the room and examining every nook and cranny in the hope of finding another clue. However, he found only dust, small stones, and torch ash.

Vinogradov hypnotized the lions; they evoked familiar thoughts, as if he’d seen a similar combination in a book before, but couldn’t remember where. Then he brightened and said, «I know someone — an expert on symbols from the time of Ivan IV, and on that era in general. He can help us decipher this code.»

Chapter 5

«Well, it was nice to see you all after the summer,» said Peter, a thin thirty-year-old man wearing round glasses, looking out at the packed lecture hall. As always, in early September, all the conscientious and less conscientious students attended classes actively, but then, until the winter exams, there was a gradual but steady decline, so it was necessary to strike while the iron was hot. Sevastyanov worked as a lecturer in the Mathematics Department of Lomonosov Moscow State University, but always felt it wasn’t his calling. His true passion was books on Russian history, which he devoured in the evenings and constantly searched for new editions in online stores and libraries. He would have happily devoted his entire life to this hobby, without working anywhere and living on the small income he received from renting out his late grandmother’s apartment, but his family kept him from pursuing this idea, as he had to support not only his pregnant wife, but also their little three-year-old daughter.

«Read carefully about the „GROUP BY“ operators; they’ll be very useful later. And in a few days we’ll talk about „DDL“ and „DML,“» he concluded his speech, when he suddenly noticed the door behind the last rows open, and a man of medium build, wearing a hoodie covering his head, slipped into the room. Thinking it was a lazy student who’d been late for the entire class, Petr was about to reprimand him with the sparkling humor he often employed to create a friendlier atmosphere. However, he was very tired today, so he decided to ignore the incomprehensible individual.

The bell rang, and everyone immediately leaped from their seats, a roar echoing through the multi-level rows of the vast auditorium. They began packing their tablets and laptops into their bags, then filed out in a long line toward the next class. Sevastyanov let out a long, drawn-out breath, yawning from lack of sleep, and sat down with a thump on his thin, metal-legged table, more like a regular school desk, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to catch up on what had happened in the world during that academic hour. Looking at the empty auditorium and the ceiling, which, despite its modernity and pretentious expensiveness, clearly showed signs of neglect in the form of yellow stains on the plaster and peeling linoleum in places, the uninvited guest smoothly rose from his seat and began to walk confidently downstairs, each step echoing loudly in the hall with excellent acoustics.

The teacher ignored him until he approached, throwing back his hood and revealing his curly light-brown hair. «Well, hello, Petya, how are you?» Vinogradov said, extending his hand in greeting. Looking up from his device, Sevastyanov looked up at the visitor, his expression surprised, as if he were seeing the Queen of England before him. He then shook his hand in return, saying, «Valera! What a meeting! I didn’t recognize you. I thought some shady student had walked in. What brings you here?»

It would seem unlikely that two men with completely different professions — a plastic surgeon and a programming teacher — could connect, but fate always has its own plans. They met at a conference dedicated to the reign of Ivan the Terrible, where scholars from across the country presented their research on various topics. Both were attendees, lacking sufficient qualifications or documented evidence, but their extensive reading and long-standing interest in the figure made them among the conference’s leading experts on the subject. Sitting next to each other at the table, they struck up a conversation about their passions, sparking a genuine mutual interest in complementing the overall picture of the historical world. Vinogradov was certain that Peter the Great would be able to provide an answer as to the attribution of an unknown combination of symbols to a specific place and period.

«You know, I’d love to just drop by, but I don’t have the time. I have something to do, and it’s quite interesting,» Valery began his speech intriguingly. «Okay, don’t tell me anything about the lack of opportunity; I don’t really like such excuses, but let’s talk about the complicated situation in more detail,» the teacher replied, looking his interlocutor intently in the eyes, clearly seeing through his selfish motives. Realizing that his elegant approach had failed and that he needed to find more appropriate words, Vinogradov silently pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the gallery where he had stored the photo he’d taken that day of the symbol combination on the broom from Kolomenskoye, and handed it to Sevastyanov. «We need to figure out what place this sign points to and how to find it,» the former declared, looking off to the wall, clearly embarrassed that he hadn’t solved this riddle. Having studied the shaft with interest, zooming in and out on the image several times, Peter handed the gadget back to its owner, after which he said: «I basically understand what this is, but to be sure I’m right, I need to know where these symbols are carved, and what they are for you.»

Valery was slightly puzzled by this gesture, as he hadn’t been particularly eager to expand his treasure-hunting team, only wanting to engage a specialist on a one-time, freelance basis. Apparently, to obtain the necessary information, he had to lay his cards on the table: «We found them on a broomstick from the time of Ivan IV in the basement of a church near Kolomenskoye. We believe the lion is the key to the Aleksandrovskaya Sloboda in the Vladimir region, as it’s their ancient coat of arms.»

«Incredible!» Sevastyanov exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and walking around the table. «You’ve found the key to Liberea!» «Please be quiet! I don’t want anyone else to overhear!» Vinogradov hissed discontentedly, glancing nervously toward the slightly open door to the lecture hall behind him. «But you’re looking in the wrong place,» Peter added. «Why is that?» Valery objected with displeasure, having learned that his theory had been called into question. «Well, Alexandrov’s coat of arms has vices and anvils, and certainly not lions, let alone two. That’s something entirely different,» the teacher continued. «The symbols you showed me can be found separately on two coins from the time of Ivan the Terrible; both reflect power and might. The double-headed eagle, established under his grandfather, Ivan III, first acquired a double crown under him, and the lion was usually depicted in the company of a unicorn, in contrast. However, there is a place where these symbols are united, and it is significantly closer from here than the Alexandrovskaya Sloboda you seek.» «And what is this?» Valery asked impatiently, fingering the knuckles of his thin, skeletal fingers with his hands tucked in his pockets. «Pashkov House,» Sevastyanov declared smugly, finally settling into his chair and reclining in it like a king, realizing he had surpassed in knowledge the equally well-read and intelligent acquaintance who had come to him for help in his time of need.

Chapter 6

«Pashkov House?» Valery asked, bewildered, leaning his hand on the table. «Did I hear you wrong? No, it’s a good joke, but clearly inappropriate. Let’s bring Lenin into this too. He has a library, too, and a state one at that, with windows overlooking the Kremlin! It’s beautiful, you have to admit!»

Not understanding this sparkling humor from his interlocutor, Peter looked at him with displeasure and then replied, «You can have all the fun you want, but the truth remains the same. And we’ll get to Vladimir Ilyich later; he has something to do with this, too.» At these words, Vinogradov nearly choked on his own saliva, moving away from the table a little, his expression surprised. «Now listen very carefully,» Sevastyanov declared, settling comfortably in his chair. «On the site of today’s Pashkov House, there once stood the Oprichny Court — the center of the appanage established by Ivan the Terrible. According to the description by the German oprichnik Heinrich Staden, there were two carved, painted lions on the gates. Mirrors were attached to their eyes. One stood with its mouth open, looking toward the zemshchina, the other, identical, looked into the courtyard. Between these two lions was a double-headed black eagle with outstretched wings. Then, in the 18th century, the area was built up with other buildings, and it was then that the Pashkov House appeared on this site.»

Then everything clicked in Valery’s head, and his eyes widened, the symbols on the broom handle and modern history merging. «Furthermore,» Sevastyanov continued, «rumor has it that this house was built by the renowned architect Bazhenov, who was dismissed from work on Tsaritsyno by Catherine the Great. The true reason for Catherine’s displeasure lay in the figure of Vasily Ivanovich himself. The architect was associated with a Masonic lodge and corresponded with Novikov, the leader of the Moscow Masonic circle. Novikov actively advocated for the transfer of power to Catherine’s son, Pavel Petrovich, and the Empress decided to nip the «Masonic conspiracy» in the bud and put an end to all those involved. In 1796, Bazhenov was suddenly removed from his post, and she entrusted further work at Tsaritsyno to his student and assistant, Matthew Kazakov.

Pashkov was also a Freemason, so he «sheltered» the disgraced architect, commissioning him to design a pompous building in the center of Moscow. It is also said that it was precisely because of his resentment towards Catherine that Bazhenov turned the building away from the Kremlin. Perhaps it was during the reconstruction that the very Libereya, which Ivan IV had hidden with his most trusted confidants at the time, was discovered, and it passed into the hands of the Freemasons, who decided to keep its discovery a complete secret, guarding it like the apple of their eye.

«It’s incredible!» Vinogradov exclaimed, taking a deep breath. «These conspiracy theories aren’t always true, but now everything is fitting together to form a perfectly logical and coherent puzzle, with only a couple of pieces missing. «And then there’s more,» Peter continued, not distracted from his story for a second. «Then Stelletsky, who you know, was exploring Vagankovsky Hill in the 1930s and discovered numerous voids — cellars, passages, basements. He believed these to be the remains of the Oprichnina Court, and mysterious steps were found in one of the dungeons. However, he was unable to examine them because they were collapsed the next day by criminals. Excavations were stopped due to the threat of collapse, and the entrance to the dungeons was hastily concreted over. These hidden galleries were also discovered during the construction of one of the metro stations on the first line of the metro — the V.I. «Lenin.» The builders uncovered a passage lined with ancient bricks, but archaeologists were not allowed to explore it at the time, and the discovered entrance was quickly sealed up. «That’s why I mentioned that library to you, though it proved useful to us in a slightly different way than expected.»

«Fantastic!» Valery exclaimed in a trembling voice, stepping closer and joyfully embracing his companion. Now he had a clear idea of what, and most importantly, where, to look, since Sevastyanov had given him some very interesting ideas. «So, we need to get to the Pashkov House dungeons that open up towards the metro,» Vinogradov said thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his fingers. «I suppose so, but for that we’d need plans and blueprints of both,» Peter replied, glancing at his watch and toward the exit.

Suddenly the bell rang, and a crowd of students immediately began to stream into the auditorium, taking their seats. Turning around and cursing silently, Valery said, «We’ll need you as an expert. When you’re finished, come to my house and we’ll discuss everything. You remember where I live, right?» Sevastyanov nodded calmly and replied, «Sure, fine, I’ll be there after six.» Afterward, the two shook hands, Vinogradov pulled the hood of his sweatshirt back over his head, and quickly headed outside.

Chapter 7

Peter emerged tired from the metro and walked along the autumn streets. The daylight hours were rapidly dwindling, and even at seven o’clock in the evening it was already getting dark. Crickets chirped in the corners of the bushes, and the air was still warm, yet at the same time deceiving and chilling the bones of gullible travelers dressed inappropriately for the weather.

As had been his habit for months, the summer howled throughout the surrounding area. The green treetops, though towering high above, encircled the panel apartment buildings, slightly concealing them behind their mighty backs and creating a more pleasant impression than the standard, identical concrete structures, were still beginning to turn yellow and fall in places, preparing for the fleeting autumn and rapidly approaching winter. Sevastyanov hadn’t even noticed how his two months of rest had flown by after a difficult and grueling exam period with lazy students. But other thoughts troubled him most, thoughts that jeopardized not only his family’s well-being but his life as a whole. He still couldn’t admit to his problems, much less tell his wife about them, but time was running out, and the chance to fix them was fading just as quickly.

As agreed with Valery, the teacher headed to his old apartment in Kuntsevo, inherited from his grandfather, where they spent the evening actively discussing the events of the conference where they had met over a year earlier. They hadn’t seen each other or spoken since, but that single encounter had left a lasting impression on both of them about their level of knowledge in the historical period they were interested in. As soon as Peter learned the origin of the symbols he’d shown him, he was stunned. He never expected Ivan the Terrible’s famous library to be real and existent. But here was living proof — the key to finding it, and most importantly, right there, right before his eyes. But the most interesting thing was that Vinogradov was hunting for this treasure, and he had the resources to do so.

Lost in these thoughts, Sevastyanov finally reached the entrance and rang the intercom. An unpleasant beeping sounded so loud it could be heard in the neighboring yard, and then an unknown voice answered, asking, «Who?» After a moment’s hesitation, thinking he had come to the wrong address, the teacher finally decided to answer, «Peter Sevastyanov.» A brief silence followed, which for the nervous guest, struggling with trembling legs, seemed like an eternity, but then the same voice came from the other end of the line: «Come in!» and the front door opened.

Without further ado, the visitor, now more confident, ascended to the first floor and called the elevator, which creaked open with a loud squeak, inviting him in. Peter pressed the button for the eighth floor. The light overhead flickered, and the doors immediately closed. The mechanism began jerking upward, accompanying each floor with a powerful shaking sound, causing the visitor to grab the handrail in surprise. Upon reaching its destination, the elevator opened, and Sevastyanov saw the apartment he was looking for right before him, its entrance ajar. Stepping inside and closing the old green leather door, divided into sections by sewn-on buttons, behind him with a revolving mechanism and a metal chain, the teacher found himself in an empty room, in complete darkness, with the chandelier off. Looking around, he realized that this was the very room where he had met Valery once before, and that he was at the right address.

In the back room, conversations, more like heated arguments, and male voices could be heard. One of them was definitely the owner’s, but the other was unfamiliar to Petr. Suddenly, apparently hearing someone enter the apartment, everyone fell silent, and Vinogradov emerged from the corner, smiling contentedly upon spotting the welcome guest. «Petya! We’ve been waiting for you, take off your clothes and come in!» he announced, returning to his room. The teacher kicked off his sneakers, hung his coat on the coat rack, and walked slowly and carefully deeper into the apartment. In front of him, he noticed a large table with drawing papers laid out on it, resembling blueprints, and Valery and the unknown man stood in a circle around him. Somewhere in the corner, two more people were lounging on a sofa, eating instant noodles. Sevastyanov stared blankly at them, noticing the pistols holstered on each of their belts. He swallowed nervously, wondering who these strangers were. «This is Peter, our consultant on the Ivan the Terrible period, and this is Taras, the sponsor and organizer of the treasure hunt,» Vinogradov introduced them. They shook hands tentatively, after which Prikhodko quietly whispered, «Are you sure inviting an outsider is a good idea?» Valery calmly turned to him and replied, «I’m an expert on this matter, but Sevastyanov knows things I might be weak in, like runic symbols, which we stalled on after Kolomenskoye, so yes, we need him.»

At that moment, half-eaten by the conversation about himself, the professor approached the table and began examining two blueprints of different sizes, their lines drawn in a blurry, slightly faded color. Looking closer, he realized that one was a plan for a branch of the Red Line metro, and the other for Pashkov’s house in the same area. «Where did you get those?» Peter asked in surprise, looking up at his colleagues who had finished arguing. «We have our own channels; if necessary, we can even get blueprints of buildings on Mars once they’re built,» Taras stated dryly, scratching the back of his head with his whole hand.

Sevastyanov nodded, unslung his bag, and pulled out his laptop. He then fished his phone out of his pocket and began taking photos of both shots, capturing every detail as clearly as possible, especially those that had been ravaged by time. «What are you doing? These are classified documents!» Prikhodko hissed, intending to knock the phone out of his partner’s hands, but Valery interrupted, grabbing his partner by the wrist. «Don’t interfere! He knows what he’s doing,» he declared, quickly releasing his companion. Watching them sideways, Bogdan and Mykola continued to silently and indifferently eat their noodles, not reacting in any way.

After taking a series of photographs, Peter opened his laptop, transferred the images onto it, and then began combining them in a special program, attempting to match the extreme points with geotags on the map to find the exact intersection discovered by construction workers in the early twentieth century during the construction of a subway line. A couple of minutes later, the computer completed its calculations, revealing the location of the tunnel and the wall of the building. «Voila,» the teacher proudly declared, turning the laptop toward his partners. «I think we should start our search from here.» Prikhodko carefully examined the results and then patted Vinogradov on the shoulder, saying, «Okay, let’s take it.»

«The only question is how we’ll get into the subway and then from there into the building. I understand we’ll have to drill through the retaining wall,» Valery asked. «Don’t worry about that, I’ll organize it as a renovation project. We’ll close the corner and start demolishing it. I don’t think we’ll interfere with the trains; there’s enough clearance there for the workers, after all,» Taras replied, clearly perking up as they began to move toward their intended target. «And the noise — well, okay, in the subway, but as soon as we get into Pashkov’s building, there’ll be a rumble, and that’ll raise questions,» Vinogradov continued, asking perfectly logical questions. «I can hack into their security system and set off the alarm. The incessant screaming will be so loud they won’t hear anything, and by the time they figure out how to turn it off, we’ll already be inside,» Sevastyanov took the floor. «I like this guy more and more,» Prikhodko said, brightening up, causing a faint smile to cross Peter’s face. «Then let’s get to work! We’re getting ready and heading out this week! In the meantime, I’ll just negotiate the supposed renovations. I hope those who commissioned us to reconstruct Kolomenskoye are still in their positions.»

Chapter 8

Pashkov House

«So, do you think it’ll work out?» Valery asked, turning to his comrades walking down the corridor after passing through the heavy, sliding doors of the subway. They were all dressed in repair suits and carrying bags containing heavy-duty equipment for chipping chunks of concrete from the tunnel walls.

«I hope so,» Peter replied, adjusting his jacket and badge for the third time, clearly uncomfortable in his unfamiliar role. He held a briefcase containing a laptop he’d used to hack the Pashkov house’s security system. Bogdan and Mykola followed close behind, brought on the mission merely as support staff, tasked with the most difficult and time-consuming tasks.

The group reached a police cordon and a metal detector search of their personal belongings, but Taras quickly pulled a fake ID from his pocket, hastily unfolded it, and immediately turned back. The guard nodded toward the technical barrier for subway employees. Prikhodko pulled aside the metal grate, ushered the entire group inside, closing the exit behind him. Together, they descended the escalator, and a distinctive, hot, rubbery air immediately hit their noses — a sensation that could only be felt and understood once they were in the subway. His helmeted head began to sweat, and thin streams of sweat ran down his forehead, but he had to keep moving; this was only the beginning of the journey. Descending, they saw nothing remarkable: no bronze statues, especially one with a dog, like in Revolution Square; no two rows of octagonal columns and massive bronze chandeliers like in Komsomolskaya; no glittering stained-glass windows between the pylons like in Novoslobodskaya; just a semicircular vaulted ceiling with small round light fixtures and neat, square cutouts. Opening a map on their phone with the intersection geotagged by Peter, the treasure hunters headed toward a door in the corner that housed a staff room, from which they could easily access a utility corridor along the tracks.

As soon as the group stepped onto this narrow path, separated from certain death under the wheels of a speeding train by only a small handrail, Taras declared, «Please, please be more careful and cautious,» and then led the way toward the unknown. It wasn’t far to go, about half a mile, but each passing train seemed to push them aside, dragging them along under pressure, like the wind pulling grains of sand in a pipe. The thick concrete walls and narrow passages created an incredible sense of danger, evoking fear even in those not prone to claustrophobia. The realization that they were deep underground, with no escape except what lay directly behind them, added to the heaviness. The lights, spaced widely apart, merely marked the route, so for additional orientation, the companions turned on their helmet lights. Having finally reached the point where the approximate geolocation coincided with the required point, the group stopped and waited for the next train to pass. Prikhodko then gave the command, and Bogdan and Mykola began preparing the drilling equipment. «Let’s hope it’s here,» Valery whispered, crossing his fingers and looking at the still-intact wall. The cost of a mistake could be high, even leading to a complete collapse of the tunnel, costing the lives of hundreds of passengers unaware of the potential danger.

«Turn on all the alarms at once,» Taras said to Petro, who had already sat down on the floor, his laptop resting on his lap, attempting to access the estate’s security system. A few seconds later, he announced with satisfaction, «Access granted.» Prikhodko turned to his men and said, «Begin!» They immediately turned on their drills and began cutting through the perfectly gray wall, their metal teeth biting into the thick, compacted material, resistant to heavy loads. The noise was so loud it was deafening, forcing them to wear special sound-absorbing headphones. They were of little help, however, and after a few minutes, only a thin strip of the resulting depression, no more than one foot wide, betrayed the impact. To maintain the load-bearing capacity and prevent possible collapses, it was decided to cut a gap about 2 feet wide, large enough to easily squeeze through sideways.

Twenty minutes later, most of the cut had been cut about 12 feet wide, when suddenly the drill slipped, hitting different material. Even through their half-deafened ears and earmuffs, the teammates realized the work had paused. They peered inside, seeing ancient stonework before them, similar to what they’d discovered in the secret tunnel beneath Kolomenskoye. Valery grinned broadly, as did the others, after which Taras picked up a larger sledgehammer and began smashing the discovered wall, each blow sending large fragments flying and dust billowing. Then it finally gave way, revealing a dark room from which they could faintly hear an alarm blaring somewhere above, saying, «Attention, fire alarm, please evacuate immediately!» A satisfied Prikhodko squeezed into the room, shining the flashlight on his helmet, hoping to see rows of books and scrolls before him. Instead, he found himself confronted with another empty hall, no more than 30 feet in size. The rest of the group followed him into the room, hearing only a cry of «Damn it!»

Valery frustratedly surveyed the dark, lightless surroundings, trying to find any clue that would justify his efforts. Suddenly, he spotted a clearly visible, massive wooden door in the corner. However, upon approaching it and opening it slightly, only a pile of debris and earth rained down on him, blocking the entire exit. Somewhere in the background, the fire alarm continued to sound, barely audible over the screams of a frantic Taras, who was slamming his fists against the walls in anger. «No, that’s it, I’ve had enough, I don’t intend to sponsor this Sisyphean labor anymore, finita la commedia,» he muttered in a circle.

Suddenly, Peter stumbled across a table in the corner, tripping over it in the darkness. Shining his light, he discovered a small box in front of him, decorated with tiles and precious stones resembling rubies and sapphires, and underneath it a rolled-up paper. «I found something!» he shouted to his comrades just as the siren from above ceased wailing.

Chapter 9

Peter continued to hypnotize the box, which was clearly not just sitting on the table. The rest of the group quickly surrounded him, peering intently at the find illuminated by their flashlights. Valery pulled a piece of parchment from under the box, trying to decipher the symbols written on it in the dim light, when suddenly a loud roar came from the crack and the train began to rush past, casting large shadows from each car, interrupted by flashes of light from the flashlights peeking through the lintels. The ceiling shook violently, sending dust and small fragments of glass raining down. «It should hold up; we calculated everything correctly,» Taras declared confidently, as if urging Vinogradov to read it.

Looking at the text again, Valery realized it was an ancient letter, presumably from the eighteenth century. «Dear descendants,» he began reading aloud, barely able to make out the faded letters, written in the old style, «you now hold in your hands an incredible relic of the past, which leads to a treasure. When the estate was being built, a hidden room containing this object was found in the remains of the Oprichny Court. We immediately realized it was a key, but we were unable to find what it concealed, as we were not permitted to dig in the area. At a meeting of the Masonic Lodge, it was decided to keep this find a secret for future generations, so that only those pure in heart and soul, who know what they are looking for, could use it. I believe that if you were able to find this room, you will easily decipher the code. Sincerely yours, Peter Yegorovich Pashkov.» At that moment, Sevastyanov opened the box and discovered an ancient gold coin, with a double-headed eagle on one side and a unicorn on the other, minus the lion. «And what is this?» Taras asked discontentedly, leaning against the wall. «I assume it’s a new key,» Vinogradov replied, picking up the coin and examining it carefully, turning it over several times.

Then a train passed outside again, causing the ceiling to shake even more violently, showering the hole with even larger pieces of debris. Everyone tensed, but it was over as quickly as it had begun, so they turned their attention back to the coin. Examining the intricate patterns, Valery suddenly said, «Come on, give me a phone with a good zoom and more light!» Taras handed him the device, and everyone leaned closer to illuminate the find as best they could. Vinogradov brought the camera closer, taking the clearest possible photographs of the design on the eagle’s chest, then set the relic aside and opened the gallery. Carefully examining the photographs he had taken, Valery, in a broken translation of pre-reform Russian, the letters of which had been completely eaten away by corrosion in places, read: «Hurry to unravel the mystery, let your path lead from the white stone wall, and you will learn the hidden scroll.»

«What does that mean?» Taras asked impatiently, having his phone with the photos returned. «Okay, let’s think about it,» Vinogradov replied, sitting down on the floor. «Judging by the letter, Pashkov and the Masons cracked the code, but someone prevented them from continuing their search, and from the text on the coin, they didn’t realize it was referring to Ivan the Terrible’s library. So, it shouldn’t be too difficult.» «White-stoned, so we need to look for a white-brick building; the Government building would be suitable,» Bogdan muttered from the corner. Peter glanced at him as if he were an idiot, but suddenly his eyes widened. «Of course!» he exclaimed. «Are you all completely nuts?» Prikhodko shouted just as the passing of another train made the ceiling shake even more violently than before. «No, no, no, he’s right, but not entirely,» the teacher explained. «White stone — that’s Moscow; the Kremlin was rebuilt in white brick during the time of Ivan III!» «And the secret — the Taynitskaya Tower!» Valery added, brightening up. «So that’s where we need to go,» Sevastyanov concluded dryly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

«Then we can call it a day,» Vinogradov declared, suddenly saddened by the realization of the hopelessness of the situation. «Why, on the contrary, is everything just beginning?» Taras retorted, placing his hands on his hips. «And how do you even imagine this? How are we supposed to penetrate the Kremlin, let alone conduct a large-scale excavation there? Do you think they’ll invite us themselves, and even roll out the red carpet? Neither Peter the Great nor Stelletsky, with their vast resources, managed this!» Valery expressed his position expressively, watching as another train shook their room, creating a clear risk of collapse, as shards of glass were already falling from the ceiling.

«You understand I’m no ordinary man, and my brave guys have extensive experience infiltrating sensitive facilities. I’ve invested so much money into this that I’m not prepared to stop one step short of a zero-return goal!» Prikhodko began to express his position. «Wait, what operations? What are you talking about?» Vinogradov asked, still unable to put two and two together. «Wow, there were so many of them I can’t remember them all, and it’s better for you not to know, there’s so much bloodshed!» Taras replied, his expression changing contentedly as he pulled his pistol from its holster and twirled it on his finger, as if playing with his weapon.

Valery swallowed nervously, only now realizing who he’d been dealing with all this time. «Wait, but you’re still willing to sacrifice our lives and kill everyone who gets in your way?» he demanded indignantly. «Yes, I will destroy everyone who stands before me and this treasure! A billion dollars isn’t just lying around!» Prikhodko said menacingly, turning to his men, who had also drawn their weapons. «Liberia is a national treasure! You can’t take it for yourself; it belongs to the state and all the people!» Vinogradov exclaimed, glancing at Peter as he approached him. At that moment, another train car passed through the tunnel, causing the ceiling above to shake and the floor to shake, making his feet throb. Sevastyanov immediately realized that in the next two minutes, everything would collapse.

«Do you really think I spent so much money and effort handing over the library to these fat cats, so schoolchildren could gawk at priceless scrolls in museums on field trips? Oh no, it’ll be scattered among closed collections and fetch a lot more on the black market through my connections!» Taras said, smiling broadly. «Then you and I are on different paths,» Valery hissed discontentedly, instantly wiping the smile off Prikhodko’s face. Prikhodko and his teacher stood right by the exit, while their comrades were closer to the dead-end wall opposite. «Oh no, you won’t escape me, just like Peter. I’ll leave you here, walled up in a mass grave. I’ve gotten everything I need from you, you’re useless now! But unfortunately, I can’t let you go either, you know too much! Last chance, are you coming with me or not?» Taras declared, glancing at the crumbling ceiling. Vinogradov exchanged glances with Sevastyanov, glanced at the coin he’d found here, which he held in his clenched fist, and then replied curtly, «No.» «Well, you’ve decided your own fate,» Prikhodko said discontentedly, just as another train passed behind Peter, and the ceiling began to collapse completely.

Chapter 10

Debris rained down overhead like large hailstones during a heavy summer thunderstorm. The dust was so thick that nothing could be seen at arm’s length. The last thing Valery noticed was Taras aiming a gun at him and Peter, and then the collapse began. The rumble of boulders falling from the ceiling was louder than thunder, and the clanking and screeching of the train passing behind was completely deafening. Vinogradov only had time to say, «Run,» before he blindly groped his way through the hole they’d drilled into the subway tunnel. His eyes itched and blurred from the sheer volume of debris, but he spotted Sevastyanov’s silhouette in his peripheral vision, also unable to orient himself properly.

Loud sounds of falling debris could be heard from the room, as well as the obvious attempts of Taras and company to get out before the building completely collapsed. «Come on, we have to go!» the would-be surgeon urged his comrade, approaching him and trying to lift him from the floor, where he had fallen like a sack, exhausted, hoping to curl up like a bed and rest. «We don’t have time, hurry!» Valery shouted, clearly stimulating Peter, who managed to pull himself together. Together, shuffling and limping on one leg each, they moved toward the platform exit along the utility corridor. Suddenly, movement and a loud cough were heard behind them, followed by a deafening roar, and a pungent cloud of dust erupted from the drilled hole into the tunnel. Having come to his senses a little, Taras rested his pistol on his knee, stood up, looked up at the fugitives and shouted angrily: «Valera, stop, it will be worse!» — after which he began firing his weapon at his former comrades.

Bullets whistled overhead, ringing off the metal structures and reflecting off the thick concrete walls. Vinogradov and Sevastyanov could no longer think about treasure or the rightness of their actions; now their minds were consumed by the thought of getting as far away as possible while keeping their legs safe and sound. Prikhodko continued firing after them, but either due to fatigue or the blinding dust, he kept missing. Suddenly, a speeding train appeared ahead, creating incredible pressure around them, nearly dragging down all the Libereya hunters. Prikhodko and company were forced to stop, lowering their guns, but Peter and Valery were so terrified that they raced down the long, endless corridor without stopping. The lights around them flickered, and the locomotive’s spotlight was blinding. Their legs tripped, and breathing in the confined space became increasingly difficult. I felt like I wanted to vomit, when suddenly the bright light of the station platform glimmered ahead. In the distance, crowds of people could be seen approaching the edge, peering into the bottomless darkness, waiting for their train, which, with a bright beam cutting through the tunnel’s darkness, would burst out with a piercing whistle of brakes and whisk them, tired from work, to a warm and cozy home far from all this hustle and bustle, so that tomorrow morning it would all start over again, and they would stand on the platform just like before, waiting for transport, but this time in the opposite direction.

Behind them, the footsteps of their comrades gaining on them thundered, and the shots became increasingly infrequent. Taras was apparently afraid of attracting the attention of the police, who were always on duty at every station to maintain order and security. Vinogradov and Peter ran into the light, blinding them with the sudden warmth and brightness they had grown unaccustomed to during their time in the dungeons of the former Oprichny Court. «Come on, up the escalator,» the former commanded, grabbing the latter by the shoulder and pushing him toward the exit. Together, they raced toward the coveted stairs, when suddenly Taras and his companions burst onto the platform from behind, glaring furiously at the fugitives. «Valera, stop!» Prikhodko shouted angrily, moving toward him. At that moment, Vinogradov and Sevastyanov were already on the escalator. Then, with an incredible roar, another train from the other direction crashed onto the platform and opened its doors, revealing dozens of people rushing and swarming like ants, blocking Taras’s path. «Move aside!» he yelled, pushing aside the obstacles, but they continued to form a barrier between him and his victims. After attempting to dodge them several times, Prikhodko finally managed to escape the crowd onto an empty platform, but he completely lost sight of Valery and Peter, who had already disappeared up the steps. «Damn it!» Taras screamed at the top of his lungs, kicking a nearby trash can with all his might.

Meanwhile, Vinogradov and Sevastyanov reached the surface, running out of the station building into the fresh air. A pleasant, refreshing breeze immediately blew across their faces, gently fanning their hair, providing a pleasant coolness yet simultaneously chilling with its deceptively autumnal nature. However, they had no time to savor this wonder. The sounds of pursuit behind them had ceased, but Valery urged Peter to escape as quickly as possible into the nearby alleys and hide there, taking advantage of their unexpected advantage. Together, they raced past the Alexander Garden, turned onto Vozdvizhenka Street, ran past the Shchusev Museum of Architecture and the Sheremetev Estate, past two cafes enticing with the invigorating aroma of delicious coffee and sweet desserts, until they reached the Boulevard Ring and ducked inside the Arbatskaya station building.

Constantly glancing back, the companions feared to see Taras and his gang with pistols behind them, but surprisingly, there was always no one there. Having rushed inside without tickets along with the other passengers through the opening security doors, accompanied by the disgruntled shouts of the security guards at the entrance, Valery and Peter ran down the escalator and jumped into the first car they saw, which was already closing its doors. It immediately jerked forward, picking up speed and rushing in an unknown direction. Breathing heavily, clutching their hearts, which stabbed and wanted to leap out of their chests and run away, they glanced out the window, watching the changing lights in the darkness, reflected in the glass. They seemed to see the image of their former comrade everywhere, ready to emerge like a shadow from the darkness and overtake the overconfident travelers. However, the minutes passed, and nothing of the sort happened.

Valery looked at Peter with a relaxed expression, then declared, «We need to hide somewhere, sit it out for a while, until he loses interest and goes on to look for the treasure.» «We can’t go to my house; my wife and daughter are there,» Sevastyanov said, slightly tense. «Me either; he knows where I live,» Vinogradov agreed, thoughtfully returning his gaze to the window, where the platform, with its throngs of people waiting, became visible. «Smolenskaya, next stop Kyiv, transfer to the brown and blue lines,» the announcer loudly declared, then repeated it in English. The doors opened, and a crowd immediately began to filter in, taking seats in the available seats. «Then where are we?» the teacher asked, perplexed. «Probably to the hotel, I don’t see any other options,» Valery replied, looking thoughtfully into the distance, watching as the doors closed and the train moved off, heading along its route.

Chapter 11

Taras, enraged, pushed aside everyone blocking his path as he ran up the escalator steps. He held a pistol in his hand, further frightening the subway passengers, but surprisingly, he remained unnoticed by the police in the general chaos. As he emerged onto the street near the station, Prikhodko saw only the Alexander Garden, a long strip stretching along the red Kremlin wall, straight ahead. Somewhere behind him lay the Lenin Library and the Pashkov House, and behind him loomed the tall Cathedral of Christ the Savior. It was evening, and the setting sun’s soft rays touched the pointed towers, dissipating in the city’s autumn haze. A strong wind blew away the already yellowing and falling leaves, in places creating stunningly beautiful compositions, covering the cold and muddy ground, a colorful carpet after the rain typical of this time of year.

Taras glanced around angrily, hoping to spot at least a hint of Valery and Petro’s presence in the surrounding area. However, the large crowd of people on the street and their constant movement made it difficult to focus on details, distracting him with irrelevant aspects. At that moment, Bogdan and Mykola caught up with him, apparently in no particular hurry to catch the fugitives. «Lost them?» one of them asked the obvious question, further angering his superior. «Of course,» he replied dryly, holstering his weapon as unnecessary. «How could it be otherwise? Although I forgot, you have the brains of a Tyrannosaurus rex — the size of a pea.» The others weren’t offended by this comparison; rather, they seemed pleased, which brought satisfied, genuine smiles to their faces.

Looking around once more, still hoping to find at least some trace, Prikhodko waved his hand in disappointment and walked past the library building, muttering under his breath. His partners immediately rushed after him, trying to understand what he was saying. Taras headed toward a black Geländewagen parked alone on the sidewalk. The license plate had a combination of the letters «o» and «1» — the same one they’d driven here, traditionally preferred by anyone connected to criminal activity, not only in the past but also in the present. Getting inside and slamming the door behind him, Prikhodko clasped his head in his hands, trying to concentrate. On the one hand, they’d found another clue to the treasure, but on the other, Libereya was once again missing. A logical question arose: how many more clues had their distant ancestors left behind to keep the library’s location a secret from prying eyes? Moreover, two key experts, who had been driving the investigation forward, have escaped, and now there’s simply no one left to solve the mysteries. The final clue is that the treasure may be located in the Kremlin, somewhere near the Taynitskaya Tower, but where is a big question. Furthermore, infiltrating a highly sensitive facility requires much more serious preparation and carries greater risks.

Bogdan and Mykola climbed into the car, and Taras started the engine. He still hesitated to drive off, hoping not to miss anything while they were there. Prikhodko pulled out his phone and opened the gallery, where he had saved a photo of the coin they’d found, the one Valery had stolen from under his nose just in time. Fortunately, he had a photograph, which, unfortunately, due to his lack of knowledge of Old Russian, offered little to complete the picture.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the window, and Taras was abruptly pulled from his thoughts. Glancing to the side, he spotted a traffic police officer gesturing for him to roll down the window. The car’s owner did so after hearing the man introduce himself: «Lieutenant Sidorenko, you’ve violated parking regulations. Please provide your documents.» Prikhodko feigned indifference to the reprimand, opened the glove compartment, pulled out a wad of five-thousand-ruble bills, pulled out a few, and tossed them in the officer’s face. The officer, taken aback by such impudence, declared, «Are you offering me a bribe?» «I already gave you one, now get out of here and don’t bother me,» Taras replied, even more irritated, intending to roll down the window. «Wait, get out of the car immediately,» the officer replied, reaching for the radio on his belt. Cursing under his breath, Prikhodko pulled his pistol from its holster and pointed it at his interlocutor. «Any more questions? Now go away and don’t bother me!» he declared, rolling up the window and shifting into gear, pulling away with a jerk, leaving the law enforcement officer far behind, his mouth wide open in shock. The man was so taken aback that he didn’t even have time to notice the car’s license plate or call his colleagues to announce the interception plan.

Meanwhile, the group was speeding through the evening capital, disregarding traffic regulations and honking loudly at anyone who lingered even a second too long at intersections. The polished car, gleaming in the rays of the setting sun and the flickering streetlights, headed toward the suburban highway where one of Taras’s several houses was located. Having quickly reached it, the car pulled into a perfectly paved parking lot surrounded by trimmed bushes and stopped.

Directly in front of her stood a three-story Scandinavian-style mansion with huge panoramic windows and thick beams protruding from the walls, creating a strange sense of disarray yet simultaneously a warm, cozy feeling. Its roof was moss-covered in places over time, and the paint was peeling, but this added a certain charm and charisma to the house, suggesting antiquity and experience. Prikhodko rarely lived here, as he mostly conducted business abroad, but he always returned with pleasure to this estate, which was the first built with the money he earned.

Getting out of the car, Prikhodko tossed the keys to the quickly arriving butler, who had accompanied him everywhere for the past eight years, and told him to drive the car to the garage. The elderly man, his hair thickly covered in gray but always neatly styled, always at work in a formal business suit with pins, cufflinks, ties of various colors, and handkerchiefs, nodded silently, glanced at his polished shoes, and headed toward the Geländewagen. Taras simultaneously entered the house, finding himself in a room with a monstrously large marble staircase leading up to the second floor in a semicircle. Holding onto the cast-iron railings, adorned with small knobs — symbols of power and might that people in all cultures have always favored — he climbed up past a display of guns, rifles, and pistols from various eras (he was a great admirer of all things weaponry), and entered his spacious office. Above the thick oak desk facing the entrance hung a massive boar’s head, which had been stuffed for Prikhodko after he personally shot it on a hunt. Throwing off his repairman’s jacket onto the polished marble floor, Taras plopped down in a chair upholstered in calfskin and finally relaxed. Rubbing his eyes, which were watering from the dust of the subway, he pulled out his phone again, connected it to the computer, and tossed it onto the desk. A larger image of the coin appeared on the screen, allowing him to discern its fine details. Looking closely at the discovered text, Prikhodko was once again convinced that they were on the right track and needed to search in the heart of the capital.

At that moment, Bogdan and Mykola entered the office, leaning against the doorframe. «So, boss, what’s our next plan?» one of them asked. Taras raised a disgruntled glare, and the other removed his hand from the doorway. After a few seconds of thought, he said, «Find out when the next concert is at the Kremlin Palace, find whatever plans you can, and get ready, we’re going after the treasure.»

Chapter 12

Valery and Peter quickly entered the hotel building, located just on the outskirts of Moscow, with windows facing the Moscow Ring Road, the noise from which was audible even with the windows closed as night approached. Entering the small hall, which doubled as a reception area and dining area, the men glanced around, hoping to see the worst of the room, and approached the information desk, made of pieces of chipboard of different colors, crookedly twisted together. The naked eye could see holes where the screws had worn away over time, no longer serving their primary function, and were therefore twisted into other holes. A girl with cow -like eyelashes and a pierced lip covered in tasteless bright red lipstick, resting her chin with her brush, suddenly noticed the customers, then gave a forced smile and said hello, formally fulfilling her job responsibilities but without seeming to strain herself. «Good evening,» she said in the velvety voice usually spoken by everyone in her job description. «Hello,» Valery replied, approaching the counter. «We need a double room for tonight for sure, and for a week, I think.» «I’ll check,» the girl said in a sickeningly saccharine voice, staring at the computer screen. «We have one room left, but there’s a catch.» «We agree, we don’t have time to look for anything else anyway, so what’s the problem?» Peter declared.

The receptionist looked at them and burst out laughing, causing a surprised expression on their faces. She then declared, «There’s only a double bed, but if you need one, I can check you in.» Vinogradov and Sevastyanov exchanged glances, unsure of the reason for the laughter, before replying, «Good enough for us.» «We’ll figure it out as we go,» the former said to the latter, while the girl smiled and said, «Give me your passports.» Valery rolled his eyes, realizing he naturally didn’t have them, and then began ostentatiously patted the repairman’s jacket, pretending to look for his ID. After doing this for several minutes, causing the employee to look disgruntled and rest her hand on her chin in anticipation, Vinogradov declared that there were no passports. The girl exhaled heavily and then said, «Unfortunately, then I won’t be able to check you in.» Valery dug through his pockets, pulling out the thousand he’d saved, and slipped it under the folder on his desk. «Maybe we could come to an agreement?» he asked, smiling unobtrusively. The worker hesitated, but quickly pulled out the bill and tucked it into her pocket. «Okay,» she said, «but to make sure I have my passport tomorrow, let’s give him another one for today.» «Of course,» Peter replied happily, fishing another two thousand from his phone case. «Everything will be perfect.»

After that, the girl quickly pocketed the money and handed them a key with the number «35» on it. It felt like it would open a barn lock, not a hotel room, and pointed to a narrow, dark staircase leading to the second floor. The men nodded gratefully and, barely able to see their way, climbed the stairs. Entering a long corridor with dimly lit lamps, casting long shadows along its length, the companions reached their door and inserted the key into the lock. With a heavy twist, the door swung open, revealing the interior of their room. The room was small: an entryway that flowed smoothly into a small bedroom of about 30 feet with a large double bed, and a tiny bathroom, covered in mold deposits and a persistent smell of sewage. The windows were covered with bright burgundy curtains, and nearby hung strange paraphernalia, more fitting for a brothel than a hotel. Upon closer inspection, Valery realized everything: «This is a brothel for intimate services, not a hotel, as we assumed, that’s why the girl laughed at us so much.» Peter cursed, clearly not intending to stay in such a place, but he had no other choice; the money had already been paid. Taking a napkin from his bag, he quickly wiped the table with it and placed his computer there. Afterwards, he announced that he would go and call his wife to tell her he had been sent on an urgent business trip to a conference and had forgotten to tell her about it yesterday. The lie, of course, was of dubious quality, frankly, downright implausible, but he had no other options for protecting his family from the bandits.

At that moment, Vinogradov threw off his jacket and plopped down on the bed, still wearing his shoes. He was so tired he felt like he was about to fall asleep, but the thoughts plaguing him wouldn’t let him rest: «The Kremlin, no, breaking in there in search of the treasure is suicide. No one has ever managed to find it there, though many have tried. They’ve already done a lot of damage — they’ve dug up the remains of the old cemetery near Kolomenskoye without filling it in, they’ve broken through the basement near Pashkov’s house. It’s scary to imagine what it will take to get to the truth. But even more frightening is that the treasure may not even exist, and all the clues that indirectly confirm connection to it could be a diversion tactic devised by Ivan the Terrible during the Oprichnina, or later, during the Time of Troubles for the Pauls. But on the other hand, if Libereya really does exist, then Taras should not be allowed near it under any circumstances, because then the relics left by the ancestors, valuable in themselves when collected, will be dispersed among private collections, as happened at the beginning of the twentieth century with the tsarist and noble treasures with the advent of Soviet power, and will never be collected again.»

With these thoughts in mind, Peter returned to the room, his face stony and sad, holding the phone. Apparently, his wife didn’t believe him, and being in the brothel was putting additional psychological pressure on him. «We’ll go after her,» Valery suddenly declared after a long period of time. «For what?» Sevastyanov asked, breaking away from his sad thoughts. «Behind the library, we have to find her,» Valery continued. «Are you crazy? We barely escaped here, and where did it lead us? And you want to continue! No, I’m not going to take part in this circus! I’ve had enough!» Peter protested, glaring angrily at his interlocutor. «Just think about it,» Vinogradov tried to reason with him. «We dreamed of learning the secrets of the period of Ivan IV, and this is one of them. We can’t allow a gang of bandits to get their hands on this great treasure!» «As soon as we find it, we’ll go down in history and write our names next to Ivan the Terrible! Isn’t that what you once wanted?» The teacher hesitated; his arguments were weak, but perhaps when they found Liberea, he could take a piece of it for himself and sell it at a black auction, solving his financial problems. «Okay, I agree. What do you propose?» he declared, hoping his comrade wouldn’t understand his hidden motives. Valery looked at him with satisfaction and then replied, «Okay, wait, I need a piece of paper and a pen.»

He began rummaging around the room, searching for what he was looking for, when suddenly his eye fell on a printed document in a file and a chewed-up, partially broken pencil. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a piece of paper with the inscription: «Dear guests, please do not throw personal hygiene items or related accessories down the drain. We are tired of clearing blockages. Handle the equipment with care, do not break it, it will be useful to other visitors. We wish you success in achieving your goals!» Wincing with distaste, Vinogradov turned it over, picked up the writing utensil, and declared, sketching his thoughts on the paper: «Look, the excavations of Konon Osipov and Ignatius Stelletsky once showed that the passage from Taynitskaya to the Corner Arsenal Tower has been destroyed by time and people. The underground chamber near the Filaret Annex miraculously survived in the depths of Borovitsky Hill.» A passage led from the Faceted Chamber to the Filaret Annex. In the summer and fall of 1894, Prince N.S. Shcherbatov began exploring the underground Kremlin, excavating two-tiered vaults beneath the Trinity Tower and clearing clay and debris from the secret passage connecting the Corner Arsenal and Nikolskaya Towers. The death of Alexander III prevented further excavations, and then the treasury ran out of funds. Somewhere in the middle, they must have connected.»

«Yes, and Stelletsky once wrote that from the royal chambers, somewhere in the basement, there was a descent into the dungeon — a large chamber into which the tunnel between the Annunciation, Archangel, and Dormition Cathedrals widened. It was filled with boxes of books, and beneath it was a lower chamber. Moreover, Wetterman spoke of cellars with ’double vaults,» which were found in the Kremlin under the Trinity Tower. An underground passage led from the lower tier of the cellars, and from the library chamber, it headed in two opposite directions: to the Taynitskaya and Corner Arsenal Towers, once called Sobakina,» Peter agreed, pointing with his finger at the circles and lines on the diagram Valery had drawn.

«So, since the code on the coin we found in the Oprichny Dvor refers to the Taynitskaya Tower, but the passage there is blocked, we need to get to that room through the Faceted Chamber,» said Vinogradov, scratching his chin. «Wait, but how are we supposed to get to the cellars beneath it? Surely they won’t invite us there with flowers and gifts of our own free will?» Sevastyanov asked logically. «I have an interesting idea about that,» Valery replied, smiling.

Chapter 13

«And what exactly, may I ask?» Peter asked in surprise, clearly unsure how they could pull this off. «And for that, we’ll need both Kremlin palaces,» Valery declared contentedly, lounging on his bed. Audible noises could be heard from the adjacent room, distracting him from his normal train of thought, but Sevastyanov answered anyway: «Wait, what does that have to do with the Faceted Chamber and the fifteenth- and sixteenth-century underground passages? The Grand Palace was built in 1838—1849 by a group of architects led by K.A. Ton, by order of Emperor Nicholas I, and rebuilt in the 1930s by the Soviet government. And the Small Palace, by the way, was actually built on Nikita Khrushchev’s initiative and was intended to host CPSU congresses; it was opened by the Party in 1961!»

Vinogradov continued to smile mysteriously, saying, «You’re certainly right, the Romanovs and even the Soviets undoubtedly played a role here, but the truth of your words can only be partially confirmed.» At this point, Peter looked surprised. «Indeed, the site occupied by the old Armory building of the early nineteenth century — a fine example of the Empire style — was ruthlessly cleared for the State Kremlin Palace, along with the foundations of Tsar Borisov Court, the Chamber of the Tsaritsas and Tsarevnas, and the northern wing of the Patriarch’s Court was demolished. These were located approximately above the intersection of underground passages between the Arsenal and Taynitsky Towers, obscured by time and hundreds of architectural designs from various eras. But we are interested in its Greater Brother. In the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, the Grand Ducal Palace of Ivan III stood on its site. It was his wife, Sophia Palaiologina, Ivan the Terrible’s grandmother, as you know, who brought the library from Byzantium here, which served as the prelude to her grandson’s collection of ancient manuscripts. To preserve them, his grandfather also invited Italian architects to the capital: Aristotle and Solari. If Nikolai were here, he would have assumed that Aristotle and the ancient Greek mathematician were one and the same. So, one might say, they divided their spheres of work in the Kremlin: Aristotle took on the underground Kremlin, Solari the aboveground one. The former began construction on the most critical area — along the Moskva River, with the Taynitskaya Tower. Simultaneously with the Borovitsky section of the wall, Solari was working on a section particularly rife with all manner of underground mysteries — along Red Square. To connect the underground Kremlin with the aboveground one, Solari built the Nabatnaya Tower and the enigmatic Senate Tower. «The clearing of this tower of construction debris, carried out in connection with the construction of the Mausoleum, revealed that the tower’s interior contained a well of unknown depth. This may be another hatch to underground Moscow. Ivan III ordered the creation of a well-ventilated room that would prevent excessive moisture from penetrating, so that the books would not become damp. This is why I believe that the tunnel between the two towers branches off toward the Faceted Chamber, and that the library is located somewhere in the middle. Moreover, I believe that the tsar couldn’t have traveled that far from his chambers to retrieve books. And according to surviving evidence, he went down to the basement somewhere to retrieve them, which aligns with my theory,» Valery continued excitedly.

«Okay, let’s say you’re right, and this passage exists, but how are we supposed to get from the Kremlin Palace to the cellars of the Faceted Chamber, and from there to the tunnel? I’m not sure we’ll even reach the first stage, let alone start digging!» Sevastyanov, his comrade, was indignant at the lack of thought in his plan. «Yes, but I have an idea,» Vinogradov countered. «Look, when can a person be unnoticeable?» «I don’t know, when he puts on a jacket or a hood,» the teacher began to suggest random possibilities. «No, when he’s in a crowd, and the larger the crowd, the better the chances,» Valery replied. «So you’re saying we need to get there when there are more people there, to attract less attention,» Peter asked. «Exactly, «the failed surgeon agreed with his own position. «This can be done in two ways: either during mass tours, or when a huge crowd gathers — a concert! When’s the next one?» Peter opened his laptop and, a minute later, returned the result: «The day after tomorrow.» «Excellent,» Valery replied, looking his interlocutor straight in the eye. «Then tomorrow I need the most complete plans of both palaces.»

«How do you even imagine that? They’re restricted access, and they’re even protected by state secrets,» Sevastyanov asked, looking surprised. «Well, you’re a hacker, come up with something, maybe it’s on the darknet,» Vinogradov informed him. «Okay, so I can get them for you in mythical performances, but how are you going to get to the concert? Tickets are astronomical and sold out long ago!» Peter countered. «Now that’s not such a difficult task; I have a friend who can organize it all,» Valery declared contentedly, clutching the back of his head with both hands as he lay on his bed.

Chapter 14

Svetlana, her long blonde hair flowing behind her shoulders, moved slowly through the Kremlin’s labyrinthine, branching corridors. Some were richly decorated with carvings, frescoes, columns, and gilding, the walls oozing with baroque opulence and luxury. Others were dry, lifeless, and cold, serving merely a technical purpose without the goal of being beautiful: peeling plaster, crumbling brick, dusty floors, dim old lamps connected by thick cables, laid like hoses in plastic sheaths with holes, right at eye level. This created a profound dissonance and created confusion and disorientation, especially during long, arduous workdays.

A twenty-eight-year-old woman, tall, beautiful, and always well-groomed, dressed in a bright red business suit and stilettos, she stood out in an almost entirely male workplace, attracting constant attention and advances, which she categorically rejected. Despite this, her husband’s jealousy knew no bounds, so every time she left for work looking slightly more attractive than in her usual sportswear, a huge row ensued.

Verbova’s shift ended for today — she could now head home and rest after her night shift, ready to return to work the unscheduled and emergency shift to maintain security at the concert tomorrow.

She worked in security, so security was always paramount. A few months ago, Svetlana divorced her husband, who was fed up with his wife being away from home for days at a time and him living alone. He worked shifts on a strictly defined schedule, so his wife’s irregular working hours, along with constant emergency calls to the Kremlin, irritated him immensely. Not a single day of vacation together, incessant squabbles, misunderstandings, and mutual dissatisfaction with each other’s positions took their toll. This divorce was extremely difficult for her; for weeks, she sank into a deep depression, from which only her beloved and irreplaceable job pulled her out. Finally emerging through the checkpoint, an autumn breeze blew in her face, cutting right through her business suit, over which she hadn’t dared to throw on any outerwear. In the distance, parked alongside the others, was a black sedan, her constant companion on all her travels around the city and beyond. Sitting in the driver’s seat, the girl took out a box of classic blue sneakers with red and yellow stripes from the passenger seat — a characteristic style of America in the eighties, changed her shoes, started the car and drove off towards home.

The rising sun shone brightly in my eyes, forcing me to lower my visor and, taking a pair of round sunglasses from a special compartment above my head, put them on. Lines of cars, hurrying to work, formed the center of the street, honking loudly at the vehicles holding up traffic, creating an irritating yet invigorating hum in the air. Ambulances and expensive lawmakers’ cars raced along the medians with their lights flashing. Motorcyclists in warm leather jackets and helmets, soon to be finishing their season, darted between the lanes. On the other hand, the traffic flow toward home was light, and by Moscow standards, the streets were virtually empty, opening a clear corridor for acceleration and fast movement over distances. The streetlights along the road were beginning to dim, and the traffic lights, which invariably flashed yellow at night, were returning to their normal daytime mode.

Her eyes were drooping, and she desperately needed sleep. She always had energy drinks stashed in the car for such occasions, but now they were becoming more of a curse than an antidote to fatigue. Svetlana, exhausted from a full day and night, was planning to go straight to bed immediately upon arriving home to prepare for the next day’s shift. She was heading to the outskirts of the capital, heading northwest, where her late husband had generously left her an apartment, given to her free of charge for her outstanding performance in the service and on business trips. Over the past six months, she had seen him only twice at the registry office — when they filed their joint application, and a month later, when all the documents were issued. Finally arriving home almost an hour later, Verbova pulled into a conveniently empty small parking lot, where it was usually impossible to park after 5 p.m. Leaving her car near the entrance, she quickly ran inside, took the creaky elevator, the same age as her, up to the tenth floor, took the keys to the apartment from her small green leather bag, opened the door and went inside.

A musty smell, typical of old houses that haven’t been aired for a long time, immediately assaulted her nose. Grimacing unpleasantly, she placed her bag on the nightstand, took off her sneakers, and rushed to the window to open it. A refreshing breath of fresh air immediately entered the room, but along with it came the unpleasant sighs of scurrying, hurrying traffic. However, she was so sleepy that she felt like even cannon fire wouldn’t disturb her sleep tonight. The apartment was small but incredibly cozy: warmly decorated rooms, a bedroom with a bed that could be raised, a hallway with yellow-tiled walls, and a decorative carved wooden fireplace in the corner for those late-night gatherings on a cold winter day.

Entering the kitchen, built to her own design, Svetlana immediately poured herself a glass of cold water from a white porcelain decanter, downing it in one gulp. She slipped her jacket onto a soft- cushioned metal chair, unhooked her leather service weapon holster from her belt, placing it on a small round glass table. She removed her pants and, still wearing her blouse, jumped onto the unmade bed, pulling the blanket tightly over her. A bottle of perfume sat on the bedside table, and without getting up, she uncovered it and sprayed the area around her with its pleasant aroma. Lost in her thoughts, she fell asleep within minutes, not even feeling the fatigue of high heels or the chafing on her feet.

She dreamed of the distant and inaccessible seaside, the kind she’d visited with her parents as a child, but now she couldn’t even travel to a neighboring region without notifying her superiors. She had vacation, of course, but her manic desire to do everything to achieve maximum results and live for her work wouldn’t allow her to take a break from work, even for three or four days. So, she voluntarily went to work, much to the amazement of her colleagues. The soft, white sand crunched underfoot, clinging to her toes, the sun’s bright rays warmed her tanned body, and the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, rolling in again and again with the same force, was incredibly calming, instilling a sense of peace and bliss. A cold cocktail sat on a table next to the lounge chair, refreshing with its pleasant coolness. In the distance, the clamor of seagulls could be heard, eager to descend and fish out the fish splashing on the surface, revealing their uneven, ribbed scales to the sun’s rays. From the other side, a hotel worker shouted invitations to boat trips and related activities: banana boat rides or parasailing. All this made Verbova enjoy the sight, even smiling in reality.

Suddenly, everything in the dream began to shake, the ground began to shift beneath her feet, as if an earthquake were starting, and the seagulls flew away. The people who had been surrounding Svetlana on the beach vanished in some unknown way, leaving no trace of their presence. Then a loud beep rang, and she woke up, realizing it was the phone she’d left on her nightstand ringing.

Chapter 15

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Verbova picked up the hated phone that had torn her from such a longed-for and wonderful sleep, and picked it up. She didn’t even look at the caller’s name. «Yes!» she declared discontentedly, burying her face halfway into the pillow, trying to quickly answer and then instantly fall back into the kingdom of Morpheus.

«Sveta, hi, how are you?» came a voice from the other end of the line. It was Valery, who had just woken up and sent Peter out for easy-to-prepare groceries, while he himself was still dozing in bed. «Fine,» the girl replied, barely audible. «Is something urgent?» Vinogradov hesitated. He’d planned his attack strategy down to the last step, but he clearly wasn’t prepared for this question. On the one hand, it was incredibly important and couldn’t be postponed, but on the other, from a logical perspective, avoiding the logical sequence of actions without dumping all his cards and secrets on her like a truck dumping gravel from the open back of the truck was pure suicide. Moreover, any attempts to talk about Liberea were out of the question. She would have considered him a madman, a deranged fanatic, a believer in conspiracy theories, and she would have been right.

After holding the pause for a few seconds and sensing Svetlana drifting off, the man quickly cooled her anger: «Well, not really, of course. I wanted to know how things are, what you’re up to.» Verbova, who had been half-listening, froze, then said, «Well, if it’s not urgent, it can wait,» before hanging up and sprawling contentedly across the bed. Valery continued to speak, but received only silence in response. Lowering the phone, he realized the connection had been lost. Then, with a clear conscience, Vinogradov redialed the number.

Before the girl could even fall asleep, the gadget rang again, irritating her with its obnoxious sound. Cursing, she replied again: «Valera, if this isn’t a matter of urgency, I’ll kill you.» «What are you doing?» the man asked simply, getting out of bed. «I was sleeping, and sleeping soundly, until you woke me up!» Svetlana said, her voice growing more and more dissatisfied, her mood widening. «How’s work? How’s Simon doing?» Vinogradov continued to cast his lines, hoping his gamble would be successful. «We divorced a few months ago,» Verbova stated irritably, finally perking up.

Valery swallowed nervously; he’d misfired right at the start. «What? I didn’t know, I’m sorry,» he tried to extricate himself from the situation. «If you hadn’t called your best friend for seven months, then you’d know even less,» the girl muttered under her breath, getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen for breakfast.

As children, Vinogradov and Verbova’s parents shared dacha plots. While they were building their country houses, they happily sent the children on walks together to keep them entertained. As the years passed, cottages sprang up on the plots, and the children’s friendship grew stronger. Every summer, they were inseparable, spending entire days together from early morning until late evening. The boys were inseparable, and by the time they reached twenty, they even began to fall in love. But at one point, Valery’s parents urgently needed money, so they sold the dacha and moved to another city, and the boys never confessed their feelings to each other. Since then, they remained good friends, calling each other and meeting occasionally, but that was all. Svetlana got married, and when Vinogradov’s grandfather died, he returned to Moscow and moved into his old apartment.

Verbova opened the built-in refrigerator and pulled out a loaf of sausage and a hunk of stale cheese. She had absolutely no desire to cook, and she had little desire to do so for herself, so she usually made do with light snacks at home, and ate her main meals in the cafeteria at work. «I’m sorry to hear that, what happened?» Valery continued, stunned. «Nothing,» she replied dryly, cutting off a large slice of bread and placing a piece of sausage on it. Realizing the topic wasn’t the most pleasant for her, Vinogradov decided to approach it from a different angle: «So, how are you doing? What’s new?»

Svetlana rolled her eyes in displeasure but said, «Everything’s fine. Tell me how you’re doing.» Hesitating, wondering how to avoid revealing the secret about the treasure, the man answered, choosing his words carefully: «I still don’t work in my field, but I do what I love. I wrote two history textbooks and sold them to a publisher. The money isn’t much, but it’s enough for now.» «When you do what you love, it’s wonderful,» Verbova added, her mouth full and chewing a hastily prepared sandwich. An awkward silence followed, as neither of them knew what to say next. Or rather, the man knew what he wanted to achieve, but jumping to the point abruptly wasn’t the best way to proceed. «Why didn’t you call for so long? I invited you over when I was feeling down, but you didn’t even answer,» Svetlana suddenly said, recalling the unpleasant moments of her life during her divorce.

Valery was stumped by this question. He hadn’t expected to hear it, and, even more so, he had no idea how to respond. Gathering his strength, Vinogradov said, «I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you really needed me. I had some problems, too, so I couldn’t answer.» This phrase didn’t sit well with the girl, who knew perfectly well he wasn’t telling her everything. «Okay,» Verbova continued, «why are you calling now? What do you need?»

The man realized there was no point in pretending anymore; he needed to tell it like it was. «You have a concert at work tomorrow,» he declared. «I know, so what now?» Svetlana interrupted him mid-sentence, finishing her breakfast. «I wanted to invite you to it, but now it’s your turn. Maybe we could go together, just for fun?» he continued, his voice halting and broken.

Now this phrase stumped the girl, who hadn’t expected such a proposal. She gazed thoughtfully out the window, contemplating the opportunity that had presented itself. On the one hand, it was work time, and she needed to be on the lookout for security; on the other, why not relax for the first time in so many years? Especially since, despite her hatred for ignoring her problems, Valery was still her first love, even if they hadn’t admitted it. «Okay,» Svetlana said, «let’s meet tomorrow at eight o’clock on Red Square near the Historical Museum. I’ll take you inside.» «Okay, I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow,» Vinogradov said contentedly, then hung up.

Then Peter came into the room with a grocery bag and, looking at his smiling friend, asked: «Did it work?» «Yes, we need to go to the store today and get everything ready for tomorrow, there’s not much time, it’s time to go and find this damn treasure.»

At that moment, Verbova was sitting in the kitchen, still pensively watching the cars pass by out the window. This conversation had thrown her off balance. And although nothing terrible had happened, somewhere deep down she began to feel extremely nervous, and her heart was clawing at her heart. Her hands were shaking slightly, and, looking at them, she tried to calm herself. «Why did he call me, let alone invite me to a concert? What does he want to achieve by doing this?» thoughts flashed through her mind. After thinking about this for a few more minutes, Verbova picked up the phone she’d set aside on the table, dialed her friend’s number, and called. The ringing lasted only a couple of seconds, but to her it felt like an eternity. «Hello, Svet, I’m listening,» came the sleepy voice of a young woman who had clearly just gotten up, as she was unemployed and living off her husband, who was constantly traveling on business trips abroad and was rarely home. «Hello, Nadya, I urgently need your help, it’s a matter of life and death!» she said, stuttering a little.

Chapter 16

«Okay, so let’s say you get through there, and I even managed to buy plans of the palace basements with my entire salary, but how do you plan to break through the bricked-up wall that hides the passage? Do you think they won’t notice?» Peter asked, one question after another, unwrapping two foil bundles from the bag, one of which he handed to Valery. «And for that, I’ll need plumber’s clothes to get to the utilities, and all the tools. There’s a concert going on upstairs, I doubt they’ll hear anything with all the noise,» he replied, unwrapping his breakfast. The smell of vegetables and fried meat wrapped in lavash immediately hit his nose.

Taking a bite, Vinogradov rolled his eyes contentedly — he’d been incredibly hungry since yesterday, and this shawarma tasted like something sent from above. «Okay, let’s say you’re right,» Sevastyanov declared, wolfing down his portion and wiping his mouth, which was constantly smeared with white mayonnaise and sauce, with his hands. «But how are you going to get all this stuff into the concert? There’ll definitely be a search, and a worker’s jacket instead of a tuxedo will arouse great suspicion. And how are you going to escape the concert, sneaking into the basements undetected?»

All the questions were perfectly logical, and Valery could only imagine the answers in his fantasies, where everything would go smoothly and without incident. However, as it turned out in Pashkov’s house, you always need to have a plan B, and even better, a plan C as well. «Look,» he replied, finishing his breakfast and rolling up the foil into a ball, which he simply threw against the wall without looking for a trash can, causing his colleague Peter to raise his eyebrows in surprise at his sloppiness. «Let’s say I walk inside in a suit with my girlfriend, she lets me through the security cordons without any further questions or attention, and then we get into the hall itself. From there, under any pretext, as soon as everything starts, I’ll slip away to the restroom, where my bag with everything I need will already be waiting for me, and I’ll change.» «Okay, wait,» Sevastyanov interrupted, «where will all this come from? Materialize out of thin air?» «We won’t be able to get in there without your friend anyway, and you’re even suggesting we plant things in advance. No, that’s fantastic!» «That makes sense,» Valery agreed with the remark. «Then there’s another option: there’s probably a window in the restroom. We’ll tie a bag to the drone, and you, controlling it from outside, bring it to me, and then we’ll pick up where I left off.» «You think there aren’t any guards or air defenses there? It’s not that simple,» the teacher continued, tearing apart every point of the plan. «We have no other choice, I’m sure they have all that, but the air defense is designed for large projectiles, not small drones, and the guards won’t even have time to blink,» Vinogradov countered, pacing the room and waving his arms vigorously to prove his point.

After thinking for a few seconds and recalling his own problems, Peter decided there were no other options and he had to carry on as is. «Then we need to go to the store,» he declared, seeing the satisfied expression on his friend’s face, who was incredibly proud that his strategy had been approved.

A few hours later, they arrived at the nearest large shopping center. They had a lot to buy: a tuxedo for Valery, clothes at least vaguely resembling a plumber’s, a drone, drilling and boring equipment, a sledgehammer. Plus a bunch of other small equipment. They decided to start with a business suit, something inexpensive but still presentable. Vinogradov walked along the shelves and mannequins for a long time, muttering under his breath about high prices and disgusting quality, as well as inflation and all sorts of things like how things used to be better, which greatly irritated Peter, who kept checking his watch and pacing the store with a tired gait. Then his eye caught the cheapest black sequined jacket and pants he’d ever seen. Glancing at his partner with annoyance, Sevastyanov grabbed a hanger from the rack and tossed it at Valery, saying, «Go try it on, you’re annoying me.» Vinogradov glared at him, but noticing his incredibly irritated and tired expression, silently nodded and entered the fitting room. Surprisingly, the combination wasn’t as awful as he’d first thought, and upon emerging, he declared it looked quite nice; he just needed a shirt.

All this time, Peter had been wondering about Svetlana. He couldn’t understand why she’d agreed to take Valery to the concert, much less tolerate his presence. Unable to find an answer, the teacher decided to ask him directly. «Well,» Vinogradov began, simultaneously searching for a shirt, «we were very good friends when we were kids, and then we even developed feelings, but it didn’t last long. I moved to another city, and she got married, though she’s now divorced.» «So you’re saying she invited you for a reason,» Sevastyanov added. «No, I invited her, but Sveta will get the tickets,» Valery countered, finally finding an acceptable solution and retreating back to the dressing room. «That changes everything,» Peter declared. «She thinks you remembered your youth and asked her out, which is why she agreed. The girl clearly still harbors a love interest in you, she’s just afraid to admit it.»

At that moment, his partner opened the curtain covering the entrance and replied, «I hadn’t thought about that. It’s purely a businesslike approach, nothing more.» «So you’re willing to play with her emotions for the sake of business?» Sevastyanov asked, surprised. «Basically, if necessary, then yes,» Vinogradov replied, buttoning the last buttons on his jacket. This statement not only shocked the teacher but also forced him to reconsider his attitude toward his partner. He had never imagined that his partner would go so far for his goal, although his intention to infiltrate the Kremlin would have been obvious. «Well, let’s take it!» Valery declared contentedly, looking at his comrade. «All together it’s worth fifteen. I’m short, can you give me a little extra?» Peter, who was already struggling financially, gave him a disapproving look but said, «Okay, how much?» «Fifteen,» Vinogradov answered shyly, entering the fitting room again.

«Are you completely out of your mind? Are you telling me I have to buy all the equipment too? I already gave my entire salary to the first person I met on the darknet for blueprints whose authenticity we can’t even verify!» Sevastyanov shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. «Actually, yes, I gave away my last money at the hotel. The rest is in my apartment, which we can’t get into, so for the time being, you’ll have to spend it,» Valery stated calmly, starting to change. «Fine, kept woman, I’ll pay you for everything, but if the treasure isn’t there, I don’t know what I’ll do to you,» Peter hissed, heading for the cash register.

Chapter 17

«Of course, what happened to you?» Hope asked, confused, trying to blink away the sleep. «I’ll tell you when we meet, maybe at our favorite cafe?» Svetlana asked, mesmerized, tucking her now tangled hair behind her ear. «Okay,» her friend replied, «let’s call in an hour.» «Okay,» Verbova said curtly and hung up.

Taking a deep breath, she told herself, «Calm down, you made it all up, it was just a meeting, nothing special, he didn’t mean it that way. It’s all the aftermath of the divorce.» Then she tossed the knife into the sink, put the cutting board back, shrugged off her blouse she hadn’t taken off that morning, and headed for the shower, still lost in her thoughts. Surrounded by the pleasant coolness and enveloping her body with the streams of water flowing from corner to corner, everything gradually began to settle, and the nervous tremors in her hands disappeared. After rinsing her hair several times until the pale ash blonde became a brighter, darker color, she stepped out of the shower stall, picked up a green towel lying on the washing machine, and wrapped it around her wet hair. After drying the rest of her body with another towel, Svetlana threw on a black silk robe hanging on a hanger in the corner of the room and went to get ready.

Taking her makeup bag out of the closet, she pulled out a small mirror, placed it on the dining table, and emptied the rest of its contents onto it. After applying eyeliner, mascara, and pink lipstick, Verbova threw off her towel and, picking up a hairdryer with a special attachment, began styling her hair. The entire process took about half an hour, and after checking herself and making sure everything looked great, she donned her favorite everyday clothes: a T-shirt, jeans, a leather biker jacket, and comfortable hiking shoes. She stowed her service pistol in a specially kept safe, which stood alone on the balcony, surrounded by canned vegetables. She grabbed her purse, keys, and wallet, locked the apartment, and quickly headed toward the nearest café — her regular meeting place with her best friend when they needed to discuss something important.

It was past midday, the streets were empty after the morning rush and hubbub, and only a few people could be seen strolling along the boulevard. Most of them were, of course, retirees, but some, especially the younger ones, raised questions: either they weren’t working or were on vacation. After walking for about a mile through the chilly autumnal landscape, Svetlana finally turned into one of the houses, the delicious aroma of which, even without a sign, made it clear what was inside. Soft light filtered through the windows, the invigorating aroma of coffee wafted outside, and delicious desserts were laid out on the tables, doubly tempting for those watching their daily calorie intake. Upon entering, Verbova glanced around, noticing only a couple seated separately, chatting pleasantly, a lone, unkempt man sipping his drink from a plastic cup and peering intently at his laptop screen, and two young, overdressed women who were more interested in taking photos of each other for their covers and social media stories than in eating or socializing. After carefully examining the room again, Svetlana realized Hope wasn’t there yet, when a waiter suddenly approached her. «Good afternoon, may I invite you to a table? Would you like one by the window or in the middle?» he asked, adjusting his tie with one hand, which held a leather folder, and his long, lacquered bangs with the other. «Let’s go by the window,» Verbova replied after a moment’s thought, after which the young man led her to an empty seat, handing her a menu. «As soon as you choose something, call me,» he said, smiling, and immediately, without waiting for an answer, he rushed off somewhere towards the kitchen.

Svetlana didn’t need it, as she always ordered the same cheesecake and latte, but she didn’t have time to tell him. After watching the waiter disappear around the corner, she turned to the window, observing the practically bald trees, their yellow leaves blown off by a strong wind, leaving only a few of their more resilient brethren on the branches. Soon, the most unpleasant time of year for everyone would begin, when the roads turn into a viscous, muddy slush, making it simply impossible to walk home without getting dirty or wet feet. Suddenly, a heavy rain began to pound, disconcerting Svetlana, who hadn’t even thought to bring an umbrella. She spent several minutes hypnotized by the loud raindrops falling on the eaves and scattering in all directions, echoing loudly around the area, until she checked the time, took her phone out of her purse, and placed it on the table: «13:22.» «How long are you going to wait? You live around the corner,» Svetlana muttered discontentedly, looking around for the waiter so she could finally place her order.

At that moment, a sapphire-colored executive car came around the corner and stopped near the café. A driver in a business suit with an umbrella emerged and opened the passenger door, letting out a girl in a gray fox fur coat, walking her straight to the door. Stepping inside, she looked around and was delighted to see a familiar face. «Sveta! Sorry, I’m a little late,» she ran up to her joyfully, hugging Verbova. «Why so long? You’ll have to walk five minutes, tops!» she indignantly demanded, finally calling to the young man who had rushed out of the kitchen. «I saw it was starting to rain, so I decided to ask the driver for a ride,» Hope replied calmly, opening the menu. After leafing through it for a minute, she turned to the approaching waiter and said, «I’ll have it today, everything’s the same as usual.» «Of course, Hope, everything will be ready. We’ve already prepared it,» he replied, smiling so broadly that the corners of his mouth could soon touch his ears. Rolling her eyes dismissively, Verbova placed her order, and the young man quickly departed, leaving them alone.

«Well? What’s so urgent?» her friend asked impatiently, cupping her cheeks with her hands, smiling enigmatically in anticipation of news. «Valera invited me to a concert,» she replied sheepishly, glancing out the window out of the corner of her eye. «The one? The one with whom nothing worked out when you were younger?» Hope asked loudly, sharply lowering her voice. «Actually, I’m not that old yet, but yes,» Svetlana said very quietly, almost in a whisper. At that moment, a waiter approached them with a tray, placing their orders on the table. The girls nodded gratefully to him, and he left as quickly as he had come, so as not to interrupt their conversation. «Well, that’s great, you’ll go, have some fun, maybe even more. You can’t just be an old maid for the rest of your life,» Hope exclaimed, sipping her coffee. «I don’t know, he didn’t help me when I needed him and practically stopped communicating. Will he do the same again?» «Verbova said shyly, simultaneously cutting tiny pieces of her cheesecake. «No one’s forcing you to do anything, you need to move on, forget about your Simon already!» the girl continued to convince her, adjusting her curled hair.

At the same time, the waiter walked over to the television hanging right in the center of the cafe and turned it on. A middle-aged man — a news anchor — appeared on the screen, speaking expressively. «And let me remind you,» he said, looking as if he were peering into the viewers’ souls through the camera, «today one of the walls of Pashkov House collapsed — a historic building in the center of Moscow, built in the eighteenth century, on whose balcony Woland, a famous character from Mikhail Bulgakov, sat. According to our information, the collapse was caused by repair work in one of the tunnels of the red metro line near the Biblioteka im. Lenina station. A criminal case has been opened under Part 2 of Article 238 of the Russian Criminal Code — the performance of work or the provision of services that do not meet the requirements for the safety of life or health of consumers, committed by a group of persons by prior conspiracy or by an organized group. The transport prosecutor’s office is working on the scene. The suspects are wanted. While the investigation and repairs are underway, traffic on the right side of the Red Line from Okhotny Ryad Station to Kropotkinskaya Station will be temporarily closed. We’ll be sure to let you know as soon as we know the details. A video recording taken by an eyewitness was shown simultaneously. «How horrific,» flashed through the girls’ minds, but Verbova had already learned of the incident the day before, so it wasn’t a surprise to her.

«Okay, I’ll try, but I need your help getting ready. After all, after several years of marriage, I’ve completely fallen out of the habit of dating,» Svetlana said after a moment’s thought, finishing her dessert and wiping crumbs from her lips with a napkin. «Well, of course, we’ll finish now, and Vadim will take us to your place to comb through your entire wardrobe to find something special,» Hope replied, smiling mysteriously.

Chapter 18

As soon as the girls finished their meal and paid, they immediately went outside, where the pouring rain continued. A wall of droplets hung suspended in the air, then suddenly fell onto the granite tiles, shattering with a distinctive sound into thousands of invisible fragments. Their clothes immediately stuck to their skin, soaking through, and their tangled hair, combined with their makeup running down their faces, created a rather peculiar visual impression, as if they were going to a café blind.

Seeing the girls approaching, the driver quickly pulled out two umbrellas and jumped out to greet them, opening them as he went. However, by the time he reached them, it was too late. After escorting his friends to the car, he opened the backseat doors for them. Once they were seated, he jumped into the driver’s seat and turned up the heater. «Where are we going?» he asked, vigorously rubbing his palms together to warm up. «To Sveta’s house,» Hope replied, wringing her perfectly styled hair onto the rubber mat, which was made up of dozens of honeycombs, like a doormat. Svetlana followed her example, but it made little difference.

Vadim turned up the heat, after which the car pulled away, turning off the hazard lights, and headed toward the coveted apartment. «What a rain,» her friend remarked, taking a pack of wipes from the armrest and wiping away the makeup that had run down her face. «You’re welcome,» Verbova agreed, doing the same with her hands. At that moment, the car turned around and sped down the boulevard, overtaking oncoming traffic. Water poured down from above with such force that the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up. They clearly wanted to give up and go on vacation until this was over, but the sturdy metal rods held them in place, preventing them from escaping the heavy workload. Her sneakers were soaked through, and her thin, nude socks were perfectly aware of the water sloshing around inside, like in a container, between her toes. «I hope it’ll end soon,» Hope whispered, finishing her emergency primping. However, the downpour showed no signs of stopping, and most importantly, nothing could be done about this miracle of nature, and no one was planning to disperse the clouds at the end of September, as they had in May.

Having somehow reached their destination, the car stopped at the entrance, and the drenched driver jumped out, pulling out two umbrellas to escort his passengers inside. The wind howled so fiercely that the protection was of little use, and the metal screws and straps bent at a ninety- degree angle, twisting the canvas into a tube. Finally entering the building, the friends exhaled heavily and, with a more measured and calm gait, headed toward the elevator, each step accompanied by a gurgling sound audible throughout the building. However, no one could have noticed it, as they hadn’t seen a soul since leaving the café, other than a few cars on the road. Having reached the top, the girls quickly slipped into the apartment and stopped in the hallway. Large drops of water fell loudly on the laminate flooring in the hallway, and it was easier to wring out all their clothes than to dry them.

Having finished their routines one by one, the friends plopped down on the bed. «So why are you sitting there?» Hope asked discontentedly, drawing a puzzled look from Svetlana. «Go ahead, show me what you have to wear for tomorrow. We need to pick out the best.» Understanding what was going on, Svetlana immediately jumped up and headed into the room to unpack the closet, stopping on the balcony to get her gun from the safe — she’d need it at her desk during the concert.

A few minutes later, she appeared in one of her usual work outfits. «No, it’s not right,» her friend declared without even looking closely, wincing. «Why?» Verbova asked, surprised. «Because, go change,» she replied dryly. The girl made a sad face, then turned and went to pick out something else. The next option was a black, full-length dress, completely covered to the neck. Hope, seeing it from afar, immediately said, «Well, if you’re going to a funeral tomorrow, then that’s perfect.» Cursing under her breath and saying nothing, Svetlana went back to the closet. Then she appeared in a green dress, this time more revealing, but just as long. «It’s better, but we need something more attractive; we need to make an impression,» her friend declared.

Verbova was desperate, and there was only one option left. Dressed in a more revealing, bright burgundy dress, she appeared, asking, «And this?» Hope’s eyes widened, after which she replied, «Excellent, just right. It accentuates your curves and your slender waist, but there’s something sticking out here.» She then moved closer, trying to smooth out the unevenness, and stopped abruptly. «What’s this?» she asked, lifting the hem, and then saw a pistol holster strapped to one leg. «I’m at work, after all, so I need it to be hidden,» Svetlana replied, adjusting her dress. «Are you sure you need it on a date!» her friend declared, stepping back and inspecting her entire appearance. «Yes, I repeat, no one gave me leave from work for the day,» Verbova said discontentedly, sitting down on the bed.

«Okay, so it’s mostly invisible, so if you insist, so be it. Now we need to find the right shoes and figure out what makeup and hair we’ll do,» Hope replied with a forced smile. Svetlana merely sighed with dissatisfaction and weariness before heading off to sort through the shoe boxes.

Chapter 19

Kremlin

Twilight slowly descended on the roofs of the surrounding houses, and the sun, with its red rays touching the tips of the buildings of the Central Department Store and the Historical Museum, sank below the horizon, plunging everything around into semi-darkness.

Valery, wearing an earpiece and a tailored sequined tuxedo, stood at the designated spot on Red Square. He held a bouquet of red roses for Svetlana as a thank you for the tickets, but he kept raising his wrist, watching the minute hand tick, wondering what would happen next. Meanwhile, Peter was setting up a connection in a car about a mile away, pulling out his laptop to connect to the connection and preparing and securing a heavy bag containing the necessary tools to the drone. Deep down, he hoped everything would work out, but the sheer madness of infiltrating the Kremlin without experience in such operations terrified him beyond belief, confusing his thoughts and constantly distracting him from the necessary actions.

«Over, can you hear me?» he heard Vinogradov’s voice coming from his earpiece. «Yes, the sound is excellent,» he replied, realizing from the silence and lack of dissatisfaction that the message had gotten through. «Is she here yet?» he asked furtively, wrapping the handles of his bag with strong tape. «Not yet, I’m waiting,» Valery said after a short while, which finally reassured him about the technical issue of communications. Sevastyanov connected the phone to the drone’s control panel, causing it to rise slightly from the ground. It followed his commands precisely, heaving its enormous load off the ground. «It’s not the best plan, of course, but what can you do now?» flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed the thought away.

Valery, meanwhile, remained standing in place, cautiously glancing around, peering at the few passersby in the hopes of recognizing Svetlana. His hands began to shake slightly, nervously anticipating what would happen next. Suddenly, from around the corner, he spotted Verbova walking toward him in a bright burgundy floor-length dress, heels, and her hair neatly styled and curled. Even from a distance, she struck him as very beautiful, and even more so up close. «Hello,» she said reservedly, giving him a light hug. «Shall we go? He’s with me,» Svetlana said briefly, and the guard let them both through without hesitation. «Please put it in a vase; I’ll pick it up on the way back,» she added, handing him the bouquet. The man nodded and handed it to his partner, who immediately disappeared into the depths of the room.

As soon as the travelers emerged, the Grand Kremlin Square, overlooking which the President had recorded his final New Year’s speech, appeared to the left. Further ahead, the monumental, snow-white Ivan the Great Bell Tower, built in the sixteenth century according to the designs of the Italian architect Bon Fryazin, soared like a needle through the low-hanging clouds. Next to it stood the Tsar Bell — a monument of eighteenth-century Russian bell-casting art, cast by order of Empress Anna Ioannovna in 1730 as a memorial to descendants of her reign and damaged during the Trinity Fire. Somewhere beyond them, deep underground, Vinogradov believed, lay the very hidden passages that would lead him to the coveted Libereya.

After circling the Tsar Cannon, cast by order of Tsar Feodor Ivanovich in 1586. Boris Godunov had proposed installing it next to the podium for the sovereign’s speeches and the reading of his decrees to symbolize the military might of the Russian state, they smoothly approached the Kremlin Palace, where a festive concert was scheduled to begin in half an hour. The Soviet modernist architecture, with its square geometry of concrete structures and glass, stood out sharply against the rest of the historic buildings, oppressive in its monumentality and drabness.

After passing through the metal detector, security blocked their path, demanding their tickets, but Svetlana quickly fished out her ID, motioning for them to follow. They found themselves in a large hall with a gigantic staircase. The windows, almost floor-to-ceiling, were barely visible: only darkness illuminated by a dozen lanterns positioned around the perimeter of the Kremlin grounds. A crowd of people, dressed in expensive suits, eagerly discussing their news. The women were all in massive dresses or jackets, with heavy gold earrings dangling from their ears and thick chains around their necks. Most of them were completely clueless about style, assuming that an outfit made from the most expensive items in the house would automatically coordinate. The men, mostly overweight with buttons undone, stood there, breathing heavily and blushing deeply from the sheer number of people in the confined space.

«Please wait a moment, I need to talk to someone about work,» Verbova said, stepping aside. Passing two elderly couples, Valery stopped and overheard the woman say, «Did you see the Pashkov House collapse yesterday? This is the very center of Moscow, how could that be?» «You’re welcome,» the man replied, «outrageous! I hope those responsible are punished to the fullest extent.»

Vinogradov swallowed nervously but continued walking, trying not to stress himself out any more than he already was. Then he noticed Svetlana talking to a young man in the corner of the room, after which she quickly returned and announced that they could enter. Valery opened the door for her, gestured inviting her inside, and she nodded gratefully and entered.

Their gaze fell upon a vast three-tiered hall with balconies housing boxes in the front and dress circle, and rows of sea-blue seats stretching into the distance. The group slowly made their way to their seats on the balcony and took their seats. The room gradually filled until the blue was completely hidden behind their heads, filling the entire space. The concert was scheduled to begin in five minutes, as announced by a man in a neat jacket and red tie who walked onto the stage. He then bowed languidly and went backstage. Rows of microphones, along with guitars and drum kits, were already set up on the stage, ready for the commotion that would soon begin. Seeing this, the would-be surgeon was about to ask who would be playing, but then remembered that he had invited the girl to the concert himself, and he had no desire to appear a complete idiot.

Valery, still hearing nothing from Peter, abruptly pulled his hand away, pretending to scratch his hair. «Now I need to somehow sneak out of here and make my way to the restroom,» flashed through Vinogradov’s mind, when Verbova suddenly interrupted his thoughts. «You were silent the whole way here, just like now. What happened? Why did you invite me?» the girl began asking logical questions, beginning to suspect something. This stumped Valery, so he couldn’t think of anything better to say than, «The weather is beautiful today, better than yesterday’s downpour.» Svetlana covered her face with her hand, whispering, «Why did I even agree? So much effort wasted!»

Suddenly, a sound cut through my ear, and Peter’s voice was heard, declaring: «I have everything ready, the bird can fly out of the cage as soon as the concert starts, come out.»

Chapter 20

Valery was stunned by this. He was about to say he understood, but suddenly remembered Svetlana sitting next to him, so he decided not to arouse further suspicion.

Suddenly, the lights in the hall suddenly dimmed, and spotlights moved toward the stage. To thunderous applause, members of a group unknown to Vinogradov slowly emerged from the wings, bowing to the audience. The crowd applauded wildly, further surprising him, but his attention was elsewhere: he was glancing out of the corner of his eye at the exit, which he needed to rush to in the darkness. Deciding there was no point in delaying, he turned to Verbova, declaring, «I need to go to the restroom, I’ll be quick.» She waved her hand dismissively and turned away, pretending not to recognize him. Valery was delighted by this turn of events and quickly darted out of the hall, closing the door behind him. «Phew,» he exhaled, «now I’m going to the restroom. Let the bird out, I hope there are no bars.» He walked with measured steps toward the restroom, trying to find her with his eyes in the unfamiliar place. It was as if everyone around had evaporated, and the packed hall now stood in absolute emptiness, as if sadly inviting at least someone to walk along its monumental and wide surfaces.

Having finally found the sign, Vinogradov jumped inside and ran to the window. To his delight, it was a regular double-glazed window. Opening it, a cold night wind blew into his face, as if saying, «Don’t resist, close the window, keep the warmth in.» Then, somewhere in the distance, he heard the whir of propellers, and Valery, leaning out, spotted a drone approaching, carrying a large payload. Reaching out, the man snatched his prize mid-flight, after which the drone abruptly took off, either from sudden relief or fear of being spotted by security.

Vinogradov immediately unpacked his bag, taking out his plumber’s clothes, while simultaneously throwing his new suit, which he hadn’t had a chance to wear for long, onto the floor. He then zipped up the bag, slung the necessary gear over his shoulder, and opened the basement map Peter had bought at a huge price on his phone. Exhaling and hoping for the best, Valery left the restroom, following the virtual map to the point he and Sevastyanov had estimated as the intersection of the old tunnels with the Nikolaevskaya buildings. He walked along long corridors that seemed eternal to him, the luxurious patterns on the walls and antique lamps alternately replaced by ominously flickering plastic ones against the backdrop of peeling concrete walls with pipes, casting gloomy shadows on the damp floors and back again. A turn, another, a U-turn, a dead end, a fork. His head was spinning from the unfamiliarity, but Valery tried to concentrate. Every now and then, maintenance workers or security guards would slip past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence. The first encounter seemed disastrous: as soon as one of them appeared on the horizon, Vinogradov panicked, thinking he’d been discovered. However, nothing happened, and the unexpected guest passed by without even noticing him.

This went on for a long time; glancing at the clock, Valery realized more than thirty minutes had passed. «She’s probably missed me by now,» he confidently calculated in his head. It was becoming incredibly stuffy, his eyes were burning, his cheeks were flushed, his legs were moving slower and slower, stumbling heavily, and he felt a distinct lack of oxygen. Streams of sweat ran down Vinogradov’s forehead, loudly falling in massive drops to the floor. Wiping it with one hand and holding the phone with the other, the treasure hunter finally reached the desired point, but instead of the planned intersection of corridors, he saw brickwork before his eyes, and quite fresh brickwork at that. «She definitely wasn’t there at Stelletsky,» he declared, looking around. After walking a few hundred feet to the side, where the maps indicated another corridor, Valery hit another wall. A few more circles, and then another dead end. «Where did you get the card?» he hissed, switching off his phone. «I bought it; it should have been relatively new,» Peter countered, not understanding what was causing his comrade difficulty. «Relatively — that’s the key word,» Vinogradov mimicked, trying to rely on his intuition to find a way out of the situation.

For several minutes, he wandered through the deserted, gloomy corridors until he crouched down in despair. At that moment, Sevastyanov, using his phone’s geolocation to determine his location, compared it with the plan and map. «Let’s go right,» he suddenly announced, and Valery, irritated, obeyed. «Now left,» the instructor continued, «straight ahead, I repeat, straight ahead, why are you stopping?» «Probably because there’s a wall here,» Vinogradov hissed, standing still. «Oh, wait, my image orientation is wrong,» Sevastyanov replied, slapping his forehead with his palm, realizing the stupidity of what was happening. Thus, obeying his comrade’s instructions, Valery wandered for about fifteen minutes. Corridors without light sources began to appear before his eyes, so he had to take a battery-powered flashlight from his bag. Suddenly, something gurgled underfoot, and, soaking his boot and filling it completely with water, Vinogradov realized that right in front of him was a partially flooded corridor leading off into the distance. «Why are you stopping?» Peter asked in surprise through his earpiece, monitoring the geolocation. «Because there’s a pond where the tunnel used to be. I’m not going in there. Who knows what’s under the water,» his comrade replied, scratching his bewildered stubble, which had grown considerably over the past few days. «According to my data, you’re very close, 50 feet at most!» Sevastyanov tried to reassure him. «We’re so close to the goal, and you want to leave!»

Valery cursed, but realized that if he wanted to find Liberea, there was no other way. Securing his tool bag higher, raising his hands, and taking the flashlight in his teeth, Vinogradov slowly and carefully, step by step, began moving toward his goal. The water was so icy it made his legs ache, and steady splashes echoed throughout the area. With each movement, the depth increased, and the endless corridor stretched off into the distance, winding in places and decreasing in height compared to the water level. «Come on, another 30 feet or so and look for different masonry on the walls,» Peter urged him, but the entire tunnel surface was identical. «There’s nothing here,» Valery said disappointedly, looking around. «Keep your eyes peeled, there’s got to be a clue somewhere,» the voice in his earpiece countered.

But the fear of the futility of their efforts was growing stronger and stronger. The feeling grew that the library’s very existence was a myth, since no one had been able to find it for centuries. Suddenly, his eye caught a single uneven spot on the brick. «What is this?» Vinogradov asked himself, approaching. «Did you find it?» Sevastyanov pressed him impatiently. «Wait a minute,» the treasure hunter rebuked him, placing his hand against the depression. It was small and thick, and could have been mistaken for an ordinary crumbling piece of stonework. However, its circular shape, seemingly handcrafted, and what appeared to be a design suggested otherwise. Looking closer, he spotted the symbol of a unicorn, its distinctive feature pointing skyward. Then, a sudden realization struck him, and Valery pulled the gold coin he’d found in the Pashkov House from his pocket and inserted it into the recess. For a moment, nothing happened, but then something clicked, and a noticeable seam appeared in the wall, from which air had been released under pressure. A thin stream of water immediately gushed into it, and, unable to believe his luck, Vinogradov forcefully pulled a section of the wall aside into the newly opened recess, widening the passageway that had been sealed for centuries. «What are those sounds? Have you found it?» Peter asked, receiving no answer. Overjoyed, Valery smiled and, stepping knee-deep into the streams rushing into the new cavity, entered, anticipating grandeur.

Chapter 21

Sevastyanov continued asking questions, but Vinogradov stubbornly ignored them. Now all his thoughts were consumed by the realization of the impending incredible discovery and the dark tunnel ahead, bisected by sharp yellow beams. The surface gradually rose slightly, so the moisture beneath his feet gradually drained away, finally leaving behind a dry floor. The gurgling hum that echoed through the tunnel, always irritating Valery as he tried to concentrate, ceased.

He carefully examined every stone on the wall, illuminating everything around him in a circular motion, so as not to miss a single clue. Then the flashlight in his hand gradually began to flicker, creating an already oppressive and oppressive atmosphere of loneliness and despair. Vinogradov tried shaking it, removing and warming the battery, but nothing happened. Realizing he would definitely not see anything in such darkness, Valery removed a massive torch with a shaft and metal sheath from one of the wall brackets. These days, antique enthusiasts would eagerly collect such torches, while he and his fellow travelers hung in this deserted place, completely alone. Fishing a lighter from his bag, he pressed the sticking button several times, causing a faint flame to appear in the air. He ignited his device with it, illuminating part of the corridor with a bright flame. In the distance, he spotted a barely visible door and a neighboring tunnel leading off somewhere. Walking slowly, glancing around at the shadows cast by the protruding rocks, the Liberea hunter reached his goal. «She’s here, right behind her,» Vinogradov whispered, looking at the massive wooden structure with metal inlays and a huge ring instead of a handle. Only as he reached out did he jerk himself back, noticing a prominent rope leading from it, stretching upward and to the side. Looking closer, Valery realized there were several buckets nearby, ready to spill their contents on his head at any moment. Sticking his finger into one and sniffing, the treasure hunter immediately realized it was oil. Even in Ancient Rome and the Middle Ages, according to conflicting reports, defenders of fortresses could use it during sieges, so Vinogradov realized that a warm welcome from the makers of old Russian traps would most likely await him on the other side of the door.

«What’s up with you?» Peter fumed, quieting down periodically. «Nothing yet,» Valery finally decided to answer. «They’ve prepared gifts for us from the ancient masters.» «I don’t get it, did you find the library or not?» Sevastyanov continued, slowly losing his temper. «No,» his interlocutor replied curtly, turning toward another corridor and heading that way.

He walked for several minutes in complete darkness, illuminating the way only with the fading torch, when suddenly he spotted another fork and a door ahead. This time, Vinogradov was more cautious, first scanning the surroundings and, not noticing any secrets, tugged at the handle. A loud creak was heard, but it didn’t budge. «Locked,» he whispered, wondering what to do next. Deciding he didn’t have much time to think, Valery removed his bag from his shoulder and placed it on the floor, taking out a crowbar and a hatchet. He bent the corners with force, hacking them out with the second tool, so that the sound of blows and flying splinters could be heard throughout the corridor. Gradually, the door gave way, revealing a rusty lock, its hold increasingly loose. A minute later, it finally cracked, crumbling onto the stone floor. Satisfied, Valery opened the door and stepped inside. A vast chamber appeared before his eyes, the air vastly different from the musty tunnels. A faint breeze blew across his face, refreshing him after the exhausting treks. Dozens of cabinets stood in neat rows along the walls, and several oak tables and chairs sat in the center. The shafts of long-extinguished torches protruded here and there. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs, left by spiders who had claimed this forgotten chamber for generations, swirled across the floor in a thick layer.

However, to his great surprise, there wasn’t a single book or scroll on the shelves. Disappointed, Vinogradov looked around carefully and declared, «There’s nothing here.» «What do you mean, nothing? Did you find something?» Peter asked, stuttering slightly, pressing the earpiece to his ear. «It was here once, for sure, but now it’s gone, it’s empty!» Valery exclaimed, angrily kicking the nearest bookcase, which immediately fell apart from age. «So, it was moved, it couldn’t have just disappeared!» Sevastyanov declared, trying not to panic.

Suddenly, the enraged Vinogradov’s gaze caught a single tablet lying on one of the tables. He stopped scratching, walked closer, and picked it up. The text was written in Latin in neat symbols on the yellowish wood bast. «This is a new key!» flashed through his mind, when suddenly he heard movement from behind and a voice called out, «Valera! What a meeting!»

Chapter 22

Taras sat behind the wheel of a black car parked on the sidewalk on the Kremlin Embankment. The sun was setting, its rays touching the tip of the Taynitskaya Tower, mentioned in the text in its final key, and the street was immersed in the evening autumn darkness. The monumentality and historical significance of the Kremlin were simultaneously striking and terrifying. However, a glance at its low walls and the knowledge that they had been through dozens of similar operations was reassuring.

Prikhodko constantly twisted his phone between his fingers, glancing around, hoping not to see the police officers approaching. The previous encounter had left a bad taste in his mouth, and breaking the rules and stopping right in the heart of the capital on the day of a concert was doubly alarming. At this point, they certainly didn’t need any extra attention. Then Taras noticed Bogdan crossing the road in his direction, crowbar in hand. Getting into the car, he adjusted his cap, which had slipped down from his work, and said, «We’ve sorted out the sewer system. The plans are sound. We can go in, but there’s just one problem.» «What is it?» the group leader asked impatiently, stopping fiddling with his smartphone and listening intently. «We found from Vinogradov’s phone’s GPS signal that half an hour ago he entered the territory from Red Square and is heading towards the Kremlin Palace,» Bogdan replied, taking a gadget out of his pocket and showing the map to his boss.

«Valera, where are you going? It’s way out of your league! And it’s not all about the money, just the idea! I’m amazed, no, really, it’s unimaginable! What a sly fellow, he decided to sneak out of there after getting concert tickets! Keep an eye on him, the library’s where he is!» Prikhodko exclaimed, growing increasingly astonished. «Okay, grab all the tools, we’ll approach from the tower, following our plans, and head downtown, and then we’ll see, I think we’ll find him,» Taras declared, anticipating how much richer he’d become today. «Yes, boss,» Bogdan replied, getting out of the car and heading toward the trunk. From there, he pulled out two huge, heavy bags and ran across the road toward one of the hatches, hidden in the general cover of grass beneath a pale green artificial turf overlay. Prikhodko exhaled heavily, then locked the car and followed him, donning a helmet and flashlight. As soon as he joined his partners, he immediately turned on additional lights, as the city had plunged into darkness, the only bright light coming from the streetlamps behind them, pointed at the road. Bohdan and Mykola had already lowered both bags into the manhole and were standing nearby, waiting for their superior. He tapped one of them on the shoulder and declared, «Let’s get going!» before heading underground.

As soon as Taras found himself below, a musty smell, a mixture of rusty water and rot, assaulted his nose. Trying not to breathe, he walked slowly, constantly glancing around to avoid unexpectedly falling into any depression, and began moving toward the center of the Kremlin. Judging by the tracks, someone had cleared the passages decades ago for a sewer line. The peeling concrete walls and damp floor with trickling streams created an invariably oppressive impression, but after the tunnels under Kolomenskoye and Pashkov House, they were more familiar. Prikhodko had heard about the second investigation that had begun after the collapse, but it was the least of his crimes, so it didn’t frighten him in the least. Behind him, he heard the footsteps of Bogdan and Mykola descending, grabbing their bags and also moving forward.

Taras held his phone with the map open in his hand, keeping an eye on the road. He asked one of his subordinates to monitor Valery’s movements and report them immediately. «Vinogradov has left the concert hall and is moving in an arc along the Grand Kremlin Palace toward the bell tower,» he said. «That means he’s already descended into the tunnels; we need to hurry,» Prikhodko replied, sharply quickening his pace. «How far is it between us?» he asked, glancing back and forth between his phone and the door. «Half a mile, closing,» Bogdan replied, nearly tripping over a step that suddenly appeared under his feet. «Faster!» Taras commanded, accelerating even more. «We must get ahead of him! Look at the maps, where can we cross paths?» The subordinate was silent for about thirty seconds, then caught up with his superior, pointing to the spot. «So we’re moving there. If he came, then he knows exactly where Libereya is,» Prikhodko said.

So, fifteen minutes later, they reached the fork where Valery should have emerged, but there was no one around, not even the sound of footsteps. Ahead lay a flooded tunnel, and to the side, a barely visible passageway leading toward the Grand Kremlin Palace. «He’s somewhere right in front of us,» Bogdan said, pointing toward the water. Approaching closer and taking a closer look, Taras spotted a barely visible, narrow crack slanting to the right, large enough for a person to squeeze through. «He’s there, hurry!» he commanded, dashing into the water at a run, sending up a cloud of spray. The other two treasure hunters exchanged nervous glances but followed him.

The companions moved quickly along the rocky walls until they spotted a door and a tunnel leading off ahead. Looking at the map, Taras immediately flew through the next passage with Bohdan, while Mykola paused, studying the intricate carvings on the wood. Pulling the handle to see what lay beyond, he felt a bucket of something icy and oily pour down on him, forcing him to cool his urge. Hearing the bucket fall behind him, echoing throughout the tunnel, Taras stopped and turned back, noticing that his subordinate had been doused from head to toe in the yellowish substance. He reached for the handle again, when Prikhodko, suddenly realizing it, interrupted him: «Stop, it’s a trap! You’re covered in oil, and there’ll be a spark behind the door and you’ll fry! Are you a complete idiot?» Mykola looked guiltily at his superior and walked away, after which they caught up with Bogdan. «He’s there, 45 feet away,» he said, pointing ahead.

The companions immediately moved on, where a glimmer of light was glimmering, noticing a door smashed open by an axe and a bag lying on the floor. Taras licked his lips in anticipation and burst into a large room lined with bookshelves and tables. Vinogradov, hunched over, sat in the center, his back to the exit, holding a flaming torch in one hand, illuminating the room with shimmering red rays. «Valera! What a meeting!» Prikhodko cried joyfully, looking around.

Chapter 23

Hearing a familiar voice behind him, Valery quickly tucked the tablet into the pocket of his green jacket and turned around. He spotted Taras standing directly in front of him, shining the flashlight on his helmet in his face, and behind him, Bohdan and Mykola, his constant companions.

Vinogradov rolled his eyes in anger and disappointment before saying, «Hello, long time no see, I think we both understand why you’re here.» «As do you,» Prikhodko replied, removing the pistol from its holster on his belt. He looked around at the empty shelves of the vast room, which was clearly designed for storing books, but for some reason, there were none.

Suddenly, Peter’s voice came through the earpiece: «Who’s there? Who are you talking to?» The treasure hunter ignored the question, asking his adversary another: «How did you find me?» The other man merely smiled, pulled his phone from his pocket, entered some information, and then turned the screen to reveal two nearly identical dots glowing in tunnels that shone through the Kremlin’s surface. He replied, «Technology! It’s the twenty-first century, and these little boxes we call smartphones know more about our lives than we do, which makes them even more dangerous. I thought you’d be smarter. I may have stationed my guys outside the apartment you didn’t show up in, but you should have known to turn off that gadget!»

«Where is she?» Taras hissed after his forced narrative, stepping closer to one of the bookcases and slamming it to the floor with all his might. «Who?» Valery asked mockingly, clearly provoking his comrade. «Don’t play with me, where’s Libereya?» Prikhodko growled, tossing down another shelf. «As you can see, there’s no library here, that’s the end!» Vinogradov exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

«This simply can’t be true! We’ve already found two keys confirming its existence! And the room! It was definitely here, the shelves, the tables, the ventilation, the secrets — everything points to it!» Taras listed incessantly, adding a gesture to each word, bending his fingers, keeping a virtual count. «Oh no, you’re mistaken there! It’s all a legend, a myth, designed to lure the Pauls and give them motive to search the Kremlin while the militia does their work, a fairy tale, and the room only confirms that the keys led to the desired destination. We’ve completely unraveled this mystery,» Vinogradov replied calmly, trying to convince his former comrade to end the search.

After listening to the monologue, he thought for about a minute, then replied: «No, it was here, I feel it, it was simply moved, hidden, taken somewhere else. There must be a key, I need to search everything thoroughly.» Then Valery realized that sooner or later they would get to him, and thus discover the tablet. He absolutely could not allow this, so he shouted: «There are no more clues! They’re gone! This is a fake, how can you not understand! A game to lure you in and not let you go. Back off!» «Oh no, not this, I will finish what I started, at any cost, no matter how many corpses lie before me, including yours, if you don’t want to help me!» Taras declared, pointing the pistol at him.

All this time, Vinogradov could hear Sevastyanov in his earpiece, pestering him with questions: «What’s going on?» Valery couldn’t answer him, and now he needed to figure out how to get out of this situation. «I’m giving you one last chance,» Prikhodko said, kicking apart the already rotten shelves lying on the floor. «Find a clue, and then I’ll spare your life and your friend’s.» His interlocutor exhaled heavily and then declared, «I’ve already found everything. There are no more clues. It’s time to move on. The treasure doesn’t exist.» Hearing this, Taras roared, uncocking his pistol. Suddenly, Vinogradov noticed the clearly visible oil stains on Mikola’s head and clothes, as if he had clearly fallen into the bucket trap his ancestors had laid. «I wouldn’t advise it. Any spark and he’ll fry,» Valery said, nodding at his subordinate.

Prikhodko glanced at him briefly, then cursed and lowered his pistol, asking, «So what do you propose we do?» Vinogradov gripped the dying torch so tightly his knuckles turned white, and then the only possible solution to the situation occurred to him: «I have an idea, let Mikola voice it.» Then, to the questioning and surprised looks of everyone in the room, he threw the lit light source with all his might at his subordinate Taras, causing him to instantly burst into flames and let out a heart-rending scream. Prikhodko immediately turned to him, wondering what to do, while Valery ran at his former classmate, knocking him to the floor, then jumped up just as quickly and ran deeper into the tunnel.

Prikhodko roared and, rolling over onto his stomach, fired several bullets at the fugitive, echoing throughout the corridor. «Catch him!» he yelled at Bohdan, who stood stunned, watching his partner roll around, trying to shake off the flames and screaming loudly. «But what about Mykola? He needs help,» he declared, followed by Taras’s «Stop yelling!» and another shot. This time, the boss didn’t fire into the tunnel, but between the eyes of his subordinate, whose torment he was thoroughly fed up with.

«What are you standing there for? Forward!» he declared, pushing Bogdan with his fist and pistol, who continued to stand there dumbfounded, but obeyed the order in fear of being next.

At that moment, Valery flew through the tunnels toward the water. His shoulder was incredibly painful, and looking at it, he realized one of the bullets had passed just past him, lightly grazing it. A thin stream of scarlet blood oozed from it. «What’s going on there!» Peter agonized. «It’s Taras, he came here too,» Vinogradov replied, gritting his teeth in pain. «But how did he find you in these tunnels?» Sevastyanov asked, perplexed. «There’s no time, listen carefully,» Vinogradov continued, holding his shoulder and accelerating even more. «He’s tracking the signal from our smartphones and all calls. We’ll meet at the agreed-upon location, don’t tell us where. Throw away the phone, or he’ll find you again. Out!»

After this, Valery pulled his gadget out of his pocket, ended the call, and slammed it against the wall several times with all his might. He then threw the bent and crumpled mass into the water as soon as he jumped out of the flooded tunnel to the surface, running towards the Grand Kremlin Palace.

Chapter 24

Svetlana sat in the concert hall, incredibly tense. Almost an hour ago, Valery had gone to the restroom and never returned. Loud music was playing on stage, the sound of singers spread through the speakers, and the beat of drums deafened her ears in a general cacophony. The crowd was in ecstasy. However, Verbova’s thoughts had been elsewhere the whole time. «Why did he invite me? I absolutely don’t understand it! A strange act, then complete silence, going to the restroom right after the concert began, and now he’s just vanished! So much preparation, choosing clothes, primping, convincing myself to go and unwind. Thoughts that this could be a chance to start something new. No, I’m a complete fool for agreeing!» thoughts raced through the girl’s head at lightning speed. «Now it’s all over, I’ll tell him to go to hell and never think about Valery again. No, I should have refused from the start!» I knew he would do something like that, as usual!

At this point, her nerves finally gave way, and Svetlana rose from her seat, apologizing and moving toward the exit, pushing past the audience members. She could barely contain the heavy tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to fall like hailstones and hit the floor. Verbova decided to distract herself from the whole situation by doing what she loved — devoting herself entirely to her work, while fulfilling her duties. As she left the hall, she paused, carefully wiping the corners of her eyes with her finger to remove the teardrops and prevent her mascara from smearing all over her face. The absolute emptiness of the room, compared to how full it had been before the concert, was surprising and even more unnerving than the constantly shifting crowd, which her experience had made it much easier for her to control. Suddenly, Valery, wearing a strange green jacket reminiscent of a plumber’s outfit, appeared from around the corner, clutching his shoulder and limping slightly. He had no intention of reentering the hall, but was quickly moving toward the building’s exit. «What happened? Why does he look like that? Where is he going?» Svetlana’s thoughts raced through her head, and she immediately set off after him, trying to catch up.

Meanwhile, barely able to stand from the incredible pain piercing his arm from the wound, Vinogradov hobbled outside. On the plus side, there was no security; they had apparently been dispersed to other locations or had temporarily withdrawn from this checkpoint. So, he quickly dashed outside, heading for the Alexander Garden, where he and Peter had met. As soon as he smashed the phone, he lost the sound in his headphones, but he hoped that Peter had understood his message correctly and would do whatever was necessary. Walking quickly, constantly accelerating and looking back, expecting the pursuit to continue, the man ran across the bridge from Trinity Tower to Kutafya, originally built according to the designs of the architect Aleviz Fryazin as a powerful defensive fortification, but later lost its purpose after the moat was filled in.

Finally emerging into the garden, a pleasant, fresh breeze blew across his face, a breath of fresh air after the musty smell of dust and decay in the tunnels beneath the Kremlin. Valery could already see Peter’s car parked on Mokhovaya Street, 600 feet away, and he was heading toward it. Putting his hand to his shoulder, Vinogradov realized the blood was still flowing, and his jacket was already soaked through, with red spots spreading in circles.

At the same time, Sevastyanov threw his phone out the window and, nervously tapping out rhythmic music on the steering wheel, kept looking toward the fortress wall, hoping to spot Valery there. Suddenly, he spotted him, but for some reason his comrade was hobbling and holding his arm. Then, Svetlana, wearing a bright red dress, ran out of the tower behind him and followed him. «Holy shit,» Peter cursed, opening the glove compartment and taking out the electric shock device he’d bought specifically in case something went wrong.

Vinogradov was getting closer and closer; he could already see his friend leaning to the right through the car window, searching for something. Then a voice called out from behind him: «Valera!» and he spun around. It was Svetlana, who had come right up to him, her expression clearly displeased. «Where have you been?» she asked aggressively, her murderous gaze boring into his eyes. «I, like, went to the bathroom,» the man replied guiltily, trying to remember what he’d said. «Where’s your suit? What kind of jacket is that? Where are the stains coming from?» the girl asked, one question after another, growing increasingly suspicious. «I, well, sort of,» Vinogradov began muttering under his breath, realizing he’d been grabbed by the tail and wouldn’t be let go. At that moment, he caught a glimpse of Peter walking past him, holding an incomprehensible object in his hand.

Then Verbova’s phone rang, and she quickly picked it up, never taking her eyes off her friend. «Yes! I’m listening!» she said. «Sveta, we have a problem. Our colleagues heard gunshots in the tunnels. Come here immediately!» a hoarse male voice announced over the intercom. The girl said she’d be there soon, and, glancing at Valery’s hand, the puzzle instantly came together. Fishing a pistol clipped to her leg from under a hole in the hem of her dress, she immediately pointed it at Vinogradov, saying, «Something tells me this is a bullet wound, and you didn’t just come to a concert today. Stay right there, don’t move!»

The man was taken aback by this turn of events, instinctively raising his hands, when suddenly Sevastyanov appeared from behind, pressing his taser to Svetlana’s neck. She convulsed for a few seconds, then passed out and fell to the ground. «What are you doing!» Valery exclaimed indignantly, looking at his comrade, who stood proudly, weapon in hand. «She would have arrested you, we don’t have time, hurry!» he replied, grabbing Verbova by the legs. After trying to lift her several times, Peter looked at his comrade with irritation. «Maybe you can help?» «Why?» he replied, perplexed. «Let’s go!» «Are you completely stupid, or are you just pretending? She saw you, do you think it’ll be easy for her, with her connections, to find us?» Sevastyanov began explaining the situation to him, point by point. Obeying his will, Valery grabbed the girl’s head and together they lifted her from the ground. The pistol immediately fell from his clenched hand, making a distinctive metallic clang as it hit the tile. «Take that too,» Peter muttered, nodding toward the weapon. «What do you need it for?» Vinogradov asked in surprise, smoothly shifting his girlfriend’s body. «Well, you can’t leave it here!» the teacher protested, kicking the gun toward his friend.

Together, they loaded the girl into the car, and the vehicle sped off toward the hotel. Valery continued to stare out the window, afraid to spot Taras, but as soon as the Kremlin walls were far behind him, he calmed down a bit. «Did you find anything in the end or not?» Peter said, glancing in the rearview mirror. «Yes, but I’ll tell you everything as soon as we get to the room. I need to catch my breath,» Vinogradov replied, turning to Svetlana and watching her lie peacefully, practically motionless, in the backseat.

Chapter 25

The flickering tunnel light dimly illuminated the back of a man in a business suit, staring off into the distance toward the gurgling waters of a flooded passage. Over the past few days of virtually no sleep or rest, the man was incredibly tired and wanted to sleep, but fate, the villain, kept throwing him new challenges, and today was no exception.

The lenses of his chameleon-like glasses reflected the glare from the flashlights of his subordinates, who scurried back and forth, trying to find traces of the crime. The boss sighed heavily, twirled his thick mustache, and, with a slow step, scooping up water in his shoes, moved forward, determined to take matters into his own hands. He worked for the same security service, heading one of its departments. Sylvester, whose unusual name had evoked nothing but idle ridicule since school, combined with his short stature and far from attractive appearance — a balding head, poor eyesight that forced him to constantly wear thick glasses, and crooked teeth that frightened listeners whenever he smiled or grimaces. All this had developed an incredibly intense and profound «NaPaulon complex» in him, entailing a desire and skill to curry favor, zeal and single-mindedness, a urge to kill and inflict the utmost suffering on his opponents. «What do we have here?» he asked one of his subordinates, after walking about 30 feet through the flooded section of the tunnel. «We found a broken phone in the water. It’s impossible to turn on. We’ll give it to the specialists; maybe they’ll find something. There’s an unknown door down the hallway,» the young man declared, adjusting the tie on his suit.

«So it’s not on our blueprints, am I right?» the boss asked, lowering his glasses slightly. «Exactly,» the other man replied. «Those rooms weren’t on any of the maps we studied.» «That means the perpetrators know the structure of the tunnels under the Kremlin Palace better than we do. You understand, this is a blunder of such magnitude that firing everyone for it wouldn’t be enough!» Sylvester launched into a tirade. «Okay, what happens next?» he continued in a calmer tone. «The corridor opens to a door, behind which is a trap in the form of an incendiary spark, apparently a very ancient one. Then the tunnel branches off and heads toward a large room with shelves. The door shows clear signs of exposure, and inside lies the body of an unknown man with a bullet wound to the forehead, completely burned,» the subordinate continued.

«Now this is really interesting, go on,» the chief said, slowly moving toward the room they were looking for. «We found four bullet holes on the walls, and six shell casings on the floor,» the man replied. «So, are you sure there are that many? Let’s say there’s a fifth in the head of the unidentified subject, but where’s the sixth?» Sylvester began asking perfectly logical questions.

«There are spots of red viscous liquid, presumably blood, leading down the corridor towards the exit,» the subordinate said.

«Then it gets even more interesting,» the boss continued. «It turns out a sabotage group has infiltrated the Kremlin, one that’s better informed than us about the hidden passages beneath it. Their goal, perhaps, was to commit a terrorist attack, but for some reason they had a falling out and split up, which is why the shooting started.» «Anything’s possible,» the other man added. «Okay, I see. Where’s Svetlana?» Sylvester asked. The subordinate paused, then replied, «That’s exactly what I was about to tell you: she was told to report here, but for some reason she went outside, where she was attacked by two unknown assailants and carried off to a car. We can’t see the license plate or the face. We’ll try to track them through other cameras.»

«What kind of day is this today! Are you going to work or not? I expect all the information in an hour, get the SWAT team ready! Once we’ve confirmed their identity, immediately place them on the federal wanted list!» the chief roared, slamming his fist into the stone wall, causing him incredible pain, making him clench his teeth. «Carry out,» he hissed, stepping aside, causing the employees around him to stir. «No, if the President finds out what happened here, and we don’t find anyone, heads will roll, and at the speed of light. We haven’t seen such chaos in a long time! Terrorist attacks are fine, and a threat to the borders is fine, but a shooting in the Kremlin — that’s completely outrageous. This isn’t just a question of professionalism, it’s a question of sheer irresponsibility and negligence!» «Either we drill holes for new stars for catching especially dangerous criminals, or we set out on our own, there are no other options,» thoughts flashed through his head.

Bending over the lifeless body, Sylvester carefully examined the burns, the extinguished torch lying nearby, the bullet wound in the middle of the forehead between the eyes, exhaled heavily and quickly moved towards the exit of these ill-fated tunnels, not even understanding what room he was in or what mysterious discovery the criminals he was looking for were following.

Chapter 26

The car sped through the dark streets, trying to escape the crime scene as quickly as possible. A light rain began to fall, activating the old windshield wipers, spreading wet streaks across the scratched glass. Valery watched out the window as the houses replaced one another in a fast, vibrant kaleidoscope, causing a slight feeling of nausea and queasiness.

Red traffic lights simultaneously warned from afar that maneuvering was prohibited and presented a bright, round beam piercing the fog, blinding the eyes in the darkness. A few pedestrians sped along the sidewalks, some on bicycles, closing out the warm season, others on electric scooters, rented at exorbitant prices for fun and especially beloved by residents of large cities for their mobility, speed, and ease of control. However, most, with large hoods pulled over their heads, walked, trying to protect their hair from the light drizzle that always fell unpleasantly from above, preventing them from getting wet but at the same time forcing them to dress more protectively or carry an umbrella.

The central streets sped by at the speed of sound, remaining somewhere far behind, and the eclecticism of architectural styles simultaneously enchanted connoisseurs with its diversity and sophistication, and repelled perfectionists who admire St. Petersburg, with its perfectly-matched roofs and an entire ensemble of hand-picked structures included in the UNESCO World Heritage List, which caused heated debate during the design of the Okhto Center, which ultimately led to the office building being relocated to Lakhta in 2012.

Although Valery was a native Muscovite, he was invariably captivated by the beauty of «Peter’s creation» and its uniqueness compared to other Russian cities. Of course, Kaliningrad could have been mentioned, but that’s a whole other story. Peter, on the other hand, idolized Moscow, loved it with every fiber of his being, with its traffic jams, street noise, stench, and rush. So, as soon as the conversation turned to this topic, the argument turned heated. Svetlana, however, was unable to participate. She was a lover of ancient and small towns, where every building conceals a small legend, where residents lovingly celebrate the sparks of interest in their homeland, and the surrounding atmosphere coexists with pristine nature, combining urban conveniences with proximity to beauty.

All the while Vinogradov was pondering this, the car was speeding toward the Moscow Ring Road. It missed the turnoff to the hotel and headed somewhere further along the butterfly interchange toward the forest. «Where are you going? We’ve already passed, don’t sleep!» Valery exclaimed, staring at his friend. Despite everything, the latter sat there with an impassive face, as if calculating something in his head. «Wake up! I told you we missed the turn!» Vinogradov shouted, but Sevastyanov made a characteristic hand gesture indicating he should shut up, then replied, «I know, don’t get on my nerves. There are thousands of cameras near the Kremlin, sooner or later they’ll realize we’ve picked up your friend and will identify the car’s license plate, and then it’s just a matter of tracking them to their destination and picking them up while they’re still warm.» So, I’ve carefully prepared everything: we’re heading to the job in a car-sharing vehicle, using the documents we’ve purchased. Now, in this forest, we’ll transfer to my car and drive calmly toward the hotel. It’s a brothel where confidentiality is paramount, so naturally they didn’t add us to the database, and they asked for our passports to squeeze out more money for a bribe, which gives us a chance to relax a bit. «We got rid of the phones, as you suggested, and there’s no pursuit.» Valery looked surprised, greatly impressed by his comrade’s thoughtfulness, and then said, as soon as the car stopped somewhere in the middle of the forest road, «You’re a strategist.» Peter’s personal vehicle was waiting in the distance, so the comrades quickly moved everything into it, laid Svetlana on top, and headed for the night.

Within ten or fifteen minutes, they were already in front of the hotel, a gloomy, ancient, crooked square rising from the ground. Stepping outside, Sevastyanov motioned to Valery to check that the receptionist was there, while he himself began quietly unloading his bags. Vinogradov peered inside, noticing only a hastily assembled counter and empty tables in the semi-darkness, ostensibly serving as dining tables, which generally reflected the general appearance of the place. Turning to his friend, he informed him that everything was clear, after which the two of them lifted Svetlana and carried her to the room, locking the car alarm. The girl was relatively light, but even her weight, unaccustomed to it, felt heavy and unwieldy to their comrades. So they climbed inside with Verbova and, slowly, constantly glancing around, walked toward the dimly lit staircase, when suddenly, from somewhere behind them, they heard: «Young men, where are you taking this girl?» Turning around, Peter realized it was a hotel employee who had appeared out of nowhere and was watching the scene before her with wide eyes, batting her long, cow-like eyelashes.

«Damn,» Valery whispered, realizing they were only a few feet from the coveted steps. «And this is our friend, she’s had a bit too much to drink, and we decided to help her,» Sevastyanov began to squirm as he ran. Then, as Vinogradov leaned slightly to grab Svetlana’s head, her service pistol, which he’d picked up near the Kremlin, fell out of his pocket, bouncing loudly off the floor. «Then what’s this?» the girl asked, even more surprised, approaching the counter, where a button for calling security was always located under the table in case of emergencies.

Frustrated by the coincidences that had befallen them, Peter rolled his eyes as he gently placed Verbova on the floor. «Go solve the problem now, I’m fed up,» he hissed. Valery nodded and, approaching the counter, smiled unobtrusively, declaring, «This is our friend, don’t worry, everything will be fine, and we can resolve this misunderstanding in other ways.» The girl, without changing her expression, replied, «Do you think I don’t understand what two grown men could be doing with an unconscious woman at night in a place like this? Especially since you still haven’t paid me for the week’s room as you promised!» «Of course, we can come to an agreement,» Vinogradov replied, immediately understanding what she meant. «Give me some money, please, I’m broke,» he said, turning to Peter. «Me too, I spent everything preparing for something that ended in nothing,» he replied, frowning with displeasure.

Valery felt his pockets, but finding nothing, glanced pityingly at the ring on his right hand and, removing it, handed it to the girl. He absolutely couldn’t use a bank card, lest he leave digital traces of his presence, and it was unlikely there was a payment terminal here. «Gold and a natural ruby. It’s a small stone, but I think it’ll be enough for now,» he declared. The employee quickly slid a folder over him and then said, «I haven’t seen you and I don’t care what you do there, but please, go easy on her.» Vinogradov wanted to declare that they weren’t planning anything like what she had in mind, but Peter immediately grabbed his shoulder and pulled him along, so they could get to their room with their luggage as quickly as possible.

Chapter 27

Svetlana struggled to open her eyes. Her head was pounding, and her thoughts were incredibly jumbled. The last thing she remembered was aiming the gun at Valery, followed by a sharp pain in her neck and amnesia. She tried to lift her hand, but it was numb and refused to obey. However, on the second try, she finally managed to place her fingers on the desired spot. Her senses were correct; indeed, she could clearly feel two burns in the form of neat circles — the marks of the electric shock.

Forcing herself to her feet, she braced herself with her hands and half-rose. Svetlana immediately realized she was lying on a bed in a strange room with maroon curtains and strange fixtures, reminiscent of a peculiar hotel. Directly across from her, Valery sat on a chair, writhing in pain as he removed his green jacket, animatedly conversing with a thin, tall man with funny round glasses, unknown to her. «I’m telling you, we barely escaped; Taras has completely lost his mind,» Vinogradov declared, finally throwing his clothes onto the floor. Then he noticed Verbova had come to, wanting to greet her, but she began feeling around, trying to find her gun.

«Don’t move, I have it,» Peter anticipated her maneuver, pulling a gun from his pocket and proudly displaying it. Then the girl wanted to stand up to attack her attackers, but fell again from severe dizziness. «I don’t advise it, I need to recover a bit,» the stranger told her, putting the gun back in his pocket. At that moment, Vinogradov took off his shirt, soaking wet with blood on one sleeve, and then noticed a smooth stripe across his shoulder, cutting it down the middle with a deep gully from which fluid continued to ooze. Gritting his teeth in pain, he whispered, «We need stitches.» «We can’t go to the hospital. Don’t forget, they’re most likely looking for us,» Sevastyanov immediately replied. «I remember, look around, I saw some needles and thread and a bottle of vodka around here somewhere,» Valery said, craning his neck to examine his wound. «You’re not telling me you’re going to stitch it up yourself, are you?» his companion asked, raising an eyebrow. «Of course not, I haven’t gone crazy yet,» Vinogradov declared, eliciting a sigh of relief from his companion. «I’ll need an assistant like you. I’m a surgeon, after all, so I’ve had some practical experience,» Valery said a second later.

«You’ve definitely lost your mind,» the teacher replied, rummaging through his desk drawers. «You’re right, for kidnapping a security guard, you’ll be identified by the security cameras and put on the federal wanted list. My colleagues are probably already on their way here; you won’t be free for long,» Svetlana hissed angrily, simultaneously fumbling for her phone. «Where did you put it?» she asked, still unable to find the gadget. «If she’s talking about the smartphone, then Valera should have taken it and turned it off,» Sevastyanov’s voice came from the far corner of the room, as he went to the bathroom. «No, I didn’t take anything,» Vinogradov countered, hearing about his mission for the first time. «Did you leave it lying on the tiles near the Kremlin while we were dragging her to the car?» Peter asked in surprise, pausing in his search. «Looks like it,» Vinogradov muttered under his breath, «did you find what I asked for?» «That’s even better. My colleagues have probably already picked it up, and they won’t be able to track us down. Practically, just another couple of minutes,» the teacher replied, returning to the bathroom.

«They’ll find you anyway,» Svetlana hissed, trying to get up again, more confidently, but found herself tied to the bed. «This is temporary, we’ll let you go soon, but first we need to explain ourselves,» Valery replied, finally waiting for his comrade with the sewing equipment. Unwinding a piece of thread and threading it into a needle, the man opened a bottle of vodka and poured it generously over the sewing equipment, then asked Sevastyanov to treat his and his hands, and then spray the wound. «Press the edges firmly, and I’ll stitch them up. Of course, you can’t walk with this, it might fester, but it’ll be fine for now. We’ll need to go to a hospital, be careful,» Vinogradov said, nodding. Then he took a pencil in his teeth and forcefully pierced the corners with the needle, slowly tightening them with thread, writhing in pain. The man then tied them together and spat the item out of his mouth, screaming and breathing heavily.

«Now that you’ve finally finished, tell me what you found in that dungeon,» Sevastyanov said, stepping back a short distance. «Wait a second, please, I need to catch my breath,» Valery replied, wiping the sweat dripping from his forehead. «What do you do?» Svetlana asked, surprised. «Do you know what Sophia Palaiologina is famous for?» Peter asked. «A Byzantine princess, after the fall of Constantinople to the Turks, fled to Rome, where she unsuccessfully attempted to woo the King of Cyprus, but was then offered by the Pope to Ivan III after his wife’s death, to make her a champion of Catholicism, but to no avail,» Verbova replied, clearly well-versed in the matter. «That’s all true, but I’m talking about her dowry, specifically a certain library, inherited and expanded by her grandson,» Sevastyanov continued.

«Liberia?» the girl asked out loud. «Are you treasure hunters? What a farce!» «Not exactly, we’re more looking for it,» Valery objected. «It doesn’t exist, it’s a myth! If it really existed, it would have been found long ago!» Svetlana exclaimed. «Don’t tell me,» Vinogradov retorted. «We found several keys that led us to the Kremlin.» «And can you show them?» Verbova asked mockingly, increasingly convinced of the absurdity of what was happening. «Unfortunately, no, they were taken from us,» Peter replied bitterly. «The Americans probably stole them?» the girl joked, smiling broadly. «Yes, I mean no, why?» said Vinogradov, bandaging the wound that had been stitched up in parallel. «Because we usually blame them for all the troubles,» Svetlana answered, sprawled out on the bed, accepting the fact that she wouldn’t be able to get out on her own.

«But we have the last key to the Kremlin,» Valery decided to take a counter-argument. He rummaged in the pocket of his jacket lying on the floor, pulled out a wooden tablet, and handed it to the girl. She looked closely at the carefully inscribed symbols and asked, «Is this Latin?» «Exactly,» Vinogradov confirmed her suspicions. «Read it aloud. I taught it in medical school; I can translate it.»

Svetlana slowly, brokenly, recited the text, while the man gradually translated: «Where many streams flow, there is a temple of immense power, driven by a love for the study of wisdom. The sacred people gather here to appease the gods through prayers and reverent sacrifices. When the solemn day of dedication arrives, people from various places and nearby villages flock to the temple hill as one vast gathering. The gods are honored with majestic images, painted with great elegance, sincerely paid homage to them before the people. Sacrifices are made, altars burn, and smoke ascends to the gods in gratitude for the air they grant. The gods judged the prayers of the temple’s founder, who wished to pass on weapons to future generations, not in vain, and such a glorious sacrifice strengthened those who dealt with it. Thus, by divine grace, the temple was established, forever to become the most venerable place of religious worship. At this time, Rome, blessed with its first glory from its relocation from Alba, where the twin brothers Romulus and Remus ruled, was increasing its citizenry and thriving in robust construction. The Celian Hill, home to the agricultural herds, was united with the city so that the Roman people could gather there increasingly frequently each day.

«Wait,» Verbova said, «is this Titus Livy’s History?» «It looks like it, one of its unknown fragments,» Peter replied, placing his hand on his hip. «And you found it under the Kremlin, so what does Rome have to do with it?» Svetlana continued to be confused. «No, it’s a reference, a hint, do you understand what I mean?» Valery asked Sevastyanov. His eyes lit up, and he nodded meaningfully. «What does this mean?» the girl was perplexed. Vinogradov came closer to her and offered to unfasten the straps holding her on the condition that she did not struggle or run away. Then he replied: «In Vologda, on a hill, stands the Assumption Cathedral. In 1566, the monarch organized the construction of a new stone Kremlin here, twice the size and fortification of the Moscow Kremlin. A wooden royal palace was built inside. The 1560s coincided with growing discontent among the boyars, the abolition of the «Chosen Council,» and the creation of the oprichnina. Wars were raging with Sweden, Poland, Lithuania, and the Crimean Khanate simultaneously. Plague and famine raged across the country. The Swedish navy blockaded maritime trade in the Baltic. The ruler fell out with many of his associates, including Andrei Kurbsky and Archpriest Sylvester. The tsar seriously feared for his life. He intended to move the capital there, and according to legend, he transported the library and hid it under Cathedral Hill. A couple of years ago, geologists conducted an exploration and discovered a cavity, but no archaeological excavations were conducted.

«According to another version, less popular among historians,» Peter continued, «the tsar actively corresponded with the English queen, hoping to marry her and gain political asylum. Ambassador Jerome Horsey, in his letter to London, even stated that he had moved the treasury to Vologda and was fortifying himself there in case of popular discontent. And in a moment of danger, he planned to travel by riverboat to Solovki, transfer to English ships, and flee to Britain. Moreover, the Englishman says that, anxious to avoid the fate of his victims, Ivan the Terrible constantly questioned Elysius.» Bomelius, his court physician, about Queen Elizabeth’s age and how successful his courtship could have been. However, his plans were not destined to come to fruition; the queen rejected him. Felix Prior then wrote that the Tsar was furious when Elizabeth rejected his advances and offered him shelter only on the condition that he pay his own expenses. It’s possible that this coincided with the time when the library had already been transported to Vologda, and lugging it back would have been too costly.

«So, you’re saying Ivan IV could have become the English monarch? That’s absurd!» the girl protested, pouting in frustration. «Yes, it’s possible it’s not true, but many respected historians say so, so anything is possible. Especially since they don’t like to mention it in school textbooks. But to confirm our words, I can say one thing: you didn’t believe in the keys to Liberea either until we showed you a fragment of Titus Livy’s work.»

«Okay, so let’s say it exists and could be there, but what are you planning to do? You’ve definitely been put on the wanted list; you can’t buy plane or train tickets, and the traffic police will report your car,» Svetlana agreed. «Everything was fine until Taras showed up and started waving his gun,» Valery said disappointedly, sitting back down in his chair. «Who is that?» the girl asked curiously. «Taras Prikhodko, my former classmate,» Vinogradov answered calmly. «Wait, that same international arms dealer who’s being hunted not only by our intelligence agencies but also by Interpol? How did you even meet him?» Verbova asked in surprise, borrowing Sevastyanov’s laptop and finding a relevant foreign article with a photo online. «I didn’t know, I only told him at university about how my grandfather found a clue to the treasure. «And then he came to me himself and offered to help me find it. I couldn’t have imagined the lengths he’d go to achieve his goal! That’s why we parted ways at Pashkov House,» Valery replied, recognizing his friend in the photograph. «Is the collapse your work too? Everywhere you set foot, there’s nothing but trouble and misfortune!» Svetlana screamed, slamming her fist on the bed. «But we’re one step closer; I think this key was the last one!» Peter snapped.

«So, what do you want to do next?» the girl asked, crossing her arms over her chest and assuming an expectant pose. «We’re going to Vologda, and if you don’t mind, we need your help. We could use some extra brains, especially such a smart and handsome one,» Valery replied, causing Verbova to become very embarrassed and start to smile and roll her eyes slightly.

Chapter 28

Vologda

Svetlana’s car and three companions sped along the busy highway toward Vologda. Outside the window, fields, forests, swamps, and then plains flashed past, one after another, and so on in a circle. A strong, cold autumn wind howled outside, bending the still-fragile but green pines heavily toward the ground. The leaves on the other trees had completely fallen, leaving behind only bare, gnarled branches, in places resembling old, crooked fingers, and a few of the luckiest, brown, withered ones, somehow clinging with the last of their strength to their accustomed places.

The entire roadside was painted a rotting, wet, crumbling carpet, creating a more oppressive and vile impression than in September, when the leaves are just beginning to fall. An unpleasant drizzle pounded the window, intermittently stopping, making it hard to even leave the car at gas stations. It was so cold that I had to turn the heater up to maximum, but my knuckles and toes continued to go numb after each forced walk through the harsh and inhospitable northern land. It was beyond me to comprehend why Ivan the Terrible wanted to build a city more powerful than Moscow here.

All the way, Valery pondered: «Will Libereya really be found?» After all, he’d always assured himself that here it was, the final clue that would lead to the solution of the mystery, yet the treasure remained one step ahead, inexorably escaping pursuit and hiding behind ever new enigmas. Moreover, he still doubted the validity of the Vologda theory. He was undoubtedly shocked by the discovery of a previously unknown excerpt from Titus Livy’s «History» from the» Dabelov List» — a document he allegedly found among unpublished papers from the archives of the Estonian city of Pärnu, sent to Dabelov while he was researching the history of Livonian law and collecting materials on the subject. Among other archival materials, the list includes numerous rare ancient Latin and Greek works, many of which have not survived to this day and were presumably stored in that very Libereya. But it does, after all, refer to a temple on a hill, surrounded by water, in Rome. Yes, the description undoubtedly resembled Cathedral Hill, coupled with various researchers’ guesses about the library’s location, but it could still be a mistaken theory, in which case they would have wasted so much time and effort chasing phantom keys in the hopes of finding nothing.

A sharp snore erupted from the side, tearing Valery away from these sad and disturbing thoughts. It was Peter, dozing off on the road, peacefully ensconced in the backseat, his face pressed against the glass, causing it to go from foggy to completely cloudy. Svetlana was behind the wheel, glancing discontentedly at this spectacle in the rearview mirror. Valery merely shrugged meaningfully, then winced in pain. That morning, in one of the small towns along the way, he’d found a local emergency room, where the doctor remade the stitches with the necessary material, greatly surprised by Vinogradov’s method. He was happy that he’d received the necessary procedures in a timely manner, hoping he’d managed to prevent sepsis and gangrene, and also that he didn’t have to explain the origin of the wound and the materials used to treat it.

Of course, Verbova was very hesitant, having no desire to participate in the treasure hunt, but Valery managed to interest her with the historical background and the opportunity to inscribe her name in the country’s legacy alongside Ivan the Terrible. But the decisive factor was Taras, whose capture was a very tempting chance for a promotion not only in rank but also in salary.

Here, the car flew past a gray, pointed tower, crafted to look antique, with the sign «Vologda» written on it, marking the entrance to the city. Alongside them, private houses flashed past, emitting black smoke into the sky from their stoves, lit to provide some warmth on the cold, fading evening. Gradually, larger buildings began to appear on the horizon — the regional hospital, shopping centers, the train station. The car turned onto the embankment of a small river, more like a stream, running in a narrow strip along the land. Then, on the left, the structure they were looking for appeared — the Vologda Kremlin. The snow-white walls of churches stood out against the hillock, but most of the buildings were old stonework with peeling plaster and paint. Overall, one could sense that the complex was steeped in time and history, but was begging for restoration.

Svetlana stopped right in front of them and turned off the car, causing Peter to wake up with a sharp jolt and vigorously rub his eyes. «Oh, we’re here!» he announced joyfully, getting out of the car and doing what looked like a warm-up. «Yes,» she replied curtly, tired after the long drive, looking around. There weren’t many people on the street, probably due to the chilly weather and the late hour, which clearly weren’t conducive to walking. «So where are we going now?» Verbova asked. «The only thing we know is that the treasure is somewhere under Cathedral Hill, that’s all. We can’t just show up with excavators and dig everything up!» «Definitely,» Valery agreed, «but I assume that since the geological survey was conducted from the embankment, we should be looking somewhere there too.» Moreover, there was probably an entrance to the dungeon, but an unusual one, because it would likely have been discovered long ago from the temples, and Ivan the Terrible would hardly have entrusted the secret to those who could have easily gotten there. Therefore, I believe that historically there was a hidden entrance from the water, which was eventually buried underground.» «Okay, so what do you propose?» Svetlana continued to inquire. «I think we need geological equipment, plus a boat and a swimsuit. After reconnaissance, we’ll find the cavities and approach by night along the river using the coordinates,» Vinogradov replied thoughtfully. «But where will we get it?» Verbova asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise at what she considered her friend’s crazy plan. «You have colleagues here, right?» Valery asked, winking at the girl.

«Let’s say,» she replied discontentedly, placing her hands on her waist. «Then they can help with that, if you ask nicely,» the man replied with a smile.

Chapter 29

Svetlana walked slowly toward the building of her Vologda colleagues, fortunately not far from the Kremlin. Valery and Peter initially planned to accompany her, but she convinced them that it was unnecessary, and being on the wanted list already increased the risk of being detained at any moment. Moreover, a plan had formed in her mind for how to best utilize the trust of the negligent treasure hunters.

The evening streetlights illuminated her face, and cars rushing home occasionally passed by. Despite her circumstances, she went home and picked out some pretty clothes that would be appropriate for a runway show, rather than driving hundreds of miles or digging through the mud looking for Liberia. Turning onto the boulevard, the trees blowing in a strong wind, fluttering the corners of her open duffel coat and her long golden locks, she approached a typical Soviet concrete building, divided into sectors in the manner typical of all administrative buildings of that period, and entered. There were several closed airlocks directly opposite the door and a huge mirror, often referred to as an «aquarium,» just off to the side. Employees usually stood behind it, unseen by all visitors, constantly observing everything that was going on.

Svetlana glanced around, walked over, opened a small leather purse, and pulled out her ID, proudly unfolding it to her colleague behind the glass. «Captain Verbova, of the Moscow Kremlin Commandant’s Office. I urgently need to speak with your superior,» she declared in a commanding tone. She then handed her ID through the small open window, and a distinct rustling sound and abrupt, almost inaudible voices could be heard on the other side. A minute later, the door of one of the airlocks opened, and a rustling sound could be heard over the speakers. The stranger then announced that she could proceed through the first door on the right. The girl nodded gratefully and then began following the incoming instructions. After surrendering her service weapon at the security checkpoint and taking back her ID, which had been verified, Verbova was escorted to an office on the second floor, the door slightly open.

Inside, directly across from her, sat a fifty-year-old man with a tired expression and dull eyes, peacefully sipping a cup of coffee, trying to finish all the work that had fallen to his lot today. Seeing the stranger, he perked up a little, motioning for her to sit. Svetlana took off her coat, carefully hanging it, folded in half, over the back of the chair, and took her seat, resting her hands on the table and crossing her fingers with long black nails. «What would you like, Comrade Captain?» asked the man, who had already been given all the information about the guest. «I think you know everything about me; there’s no point in introducing myself,» Verbova began her story. «Yesterday evening, there was a shooting in the Kremlin basement. I identified the perpetrator and tried to detain him, but then his partner attacked and kidnapped me.» «That’s all very interesting, but what are you doing here in Vologda, especially since I see you’re completely free?» the department chief asked, a perfectly logical question.

«I urgently need to contact Sylvester Gennadievich Mikhailov. I need to discuss the details of the criminals’ subsequent arrest with him,» Svetlana smiled pleasantly and invitingly, as she had learned over several years of working in a male-dominated environment. «Okay,» the man replied, «we’ll arrange everything now.»

After searching the electronic directory of his internal database, he pulled out the required number, dialed it, and handed the receiver of the old gray landline push-button phone to the girl. There was a dial tone, after which a hoarse voice answered, saying, «Yes, I’m listening.» «Sylvester Gennadyevich, this is Sveta,» Verbova said. «Where are you? What happened?» the boss immediately perked up, turning up the volume. «I’m fine, I’m in Vologda, at our colleagues’ station,» the girl replied. «Wait, what are you doing in Vologda? We’ve determined from the security cameras that you were kidnapped by someone named Valery Vinogradov and Peter Sevastyanov, but we haven’t found anyone at your registered address,» Sylvester began to say, vying with each other. «That’s right, they forced me to come here and are nearby now. I’m ready to give you their contact information.» «Moreover, these are the people who broke into the Pashkov House, causing its collapse. But there’s one condition,» Svetlana said. «I’m listening,» the chief replied, anticipating the arrest of the criminals who had been tormenting his mind for the second day. «Everything must be caught red-handed; they’re planning to infiltrate Cathedral Hill and find the key to Ivan the Terrible’s treasure there. I insist on a motorboat, diving gear, and georeconnaissance equipment. Contact your colleagues in the security service; have them apprehend them as soon as they emerge. These people pose no danger, just fanatics who believe in the existence of Liberea, but there’s a bigger fish hot on their heels — Taras Prikhodko,» the girl began listing her demands. «An arms dealer on the international wanted list?» Mikhailov clarified. «Exactly,» Verbova agreed. «By catching Vinogradov and Sevastyanov, we’ll kill two birds with one stone. You’ll immediately get those who infiltrated the Kremlin by setting off the shooting, and the key to a particularly dangerous criminal. It’s not far to a general’s rank for services to the fatherland, and I won’t refuse the modest rank of major.»

The boss considered the offer for a few seconds, finding it odd yet tempting, but he finally agreed. «When will it all happen?» he asked, drooling with anticipation as the President presented him with a state award and a single large star appeared on his shoulder straps. «Tomorrow evening, I’ll find a way to signal,» the girl replied, smiling and tapping her nails on the table with pleasure.

Chapter 30

The next day, Valery and Peter stood in the bushes on the embankment near the Kremlin, waiting for Svetlana. She was supposed to appear from the water with equipment borrowed from the security service, but the men had no idea of her ulterior motives in this adventure. A cold evening wind blew in their faces, fluttering Vinogradov’s curly hair. He constantly adjusted the bandage on his shoulder, wincing from the pain slicing through his wound. The icy water in the river lapped the earthen bank in a rolling current, bouncing on the scattered boulders. In the distance, isolated lights of cars returning home could be seen, and the city’s residents were clearly getting ready for bed.

Then, Verbova appeared around the bend in a motorboat, heavily laden, waving to her companions and smiling affably. Within minutes, she moored to the shore, and the men helped pull the vessel ashore. Inside were two huge boxes containing geological equipment, a communications system, and a pair of diving suits with cylinders. Peter took the boxes and began unlatching the metal latches, removing and assembling the necessary equipment. After stabbing the apparatus into the ground, he activated the device, and three-dimensional graphs began to appear on the screen, depicting the subsurface structure of the area. Near the center, a significant difference was visible between the filled and empty areas. «Yes, there’s a cavity here, and a large one at that,» Sevastyanov declared, moving the equipment around, trying to pinpoint the correct location. A few minutes later, he made his final decision: «Let’s cast off and enter from the water here.» After this, Peter put the instruments back into the boat, Svetlana got in, and together with Valery they pushed the vessel out onto the river, and then jumped in after it.

The current immediately carried her away, but Verbova quickly started the engine and confidently swung it off. Having brought the boat to the center, she declared, «Well, get dressed and let’s go!» The instructor began to pull on his diving suit, stopping abruptly and glaring at Vinogradov, who was sitting peacefully on the ledge, gazing into the distance. «What are you sitting there for? Come on, I’m not going to freeze here until morning!» Sevastyanov protested, slapping his companion on the back. «Have you forgotten? I have stitches on my arm! How am I supposed to swim?» Valery replied, pointing to his shoulder. «Sveta?» Peter turned to the girl, realizing the dire situation. «No, boys, let’s do this without me,» she snapped, realizing she absolutely had to be in the boat, sending both of her partners toward the shore to detain her. But she completely forgot that Vinogradov was out of her plan, since he couldn’t swim, much less perform any vigorous physical activity. Pressing her lips together in indignation, she began thinking lightning fast: «How can I get him to go with Sevastyanov?»

And then a brilliant plan occurred to her: the girl carefully, trying to do it discreetly, opened the valve of one of the oxygen tanks, watching Peter curse as he pulled on his rubber suit. Realizing he wanted to mount the device on his back, hoping she’d released enough oxygen to get him there and not have to return without help, she quickly closed the valve and handed him the tank. He nodded his thanks, inserted the snorkel, put the earpiece in his ear, pulled his goggles down from his forehead, turned on the air supply, and jumped overboard, sending up a cloud of spray. «I think he’ll manage,» Valery said, relaxing in his seat. Svetlana merely smiled politely, hoping her plan would now work as planned. She had another earpiece in her ear to communicate with the security team that her boss had contacted to carry out joint operations to catch the criminals.

Meanwhile, Sevastyanov was groping his way through the murky depths, trying to navigate the seaweed and cloud of silt he’d kicked up after his dive. The water was incredibly chilling. Even inside his special wetsuit, it felt as if the cold was trying to rip him away, skin and all, trapping the careless traveler forever in its depths. Still unable to see anything, Peter turned on the flashlight strapped to his head, its bright beam immediately cutting the darkness in two, creating a yellowish path beneath his feet. Ahead, he spotted a strip of shoreline overgrown with reeds and other plants typical of aquatic flora, but no distinctive entrances were visible. And what was surprising? There couldn’t have been a huge arch with the sign «Welcome» there — even that would have long since collapsed after so many years. With each passing minute of pacing back and forth, trying to detect any trace of human activity, the teacher felt his breathing becoming increasingly difficult. He attributed this to the gradually diminishing oxygen levels in the tank, as well as fatigue, but had no idea that the problem was caused by Svetlana’s cunning plan.

Suddenly, an unknown object flickered right before his eyes in the glare of light, and upon closer inspection, Peter realized a barely visible, smooth, and clean boulder was protruding deep into the bushes. Swimming closer and pushing aside the vegetation, he realized it wasn’t alone, and the entire structure resembled a small arch. Peering deeper, pushing aside the algae that obscured his view, Sevastyanov finally discovered a small opening, easily large enough for a man of average height in the sixteenth century, but not for modern humans, especially in large structures. With difficulty, he somehow managed to squeeze through the tunnel, after which he hit a wall and emerged into a large, dark room.

Closing the air vent and removing his glasses, he shone a flashlight around the room, revealing only a table in the center. «I’m inside,» Peter declared, «but there’s nothing here.» «What? Did you look carefully?» Valery asked in surprise, watching the girl laugh at them. Taking a closer look, Sevastyanov finally found a key lying alone in the center, its head shaped like a lion holding a crossed hammer and anvil.

«It should be here. The room is fully equipped: long walls, a spacious hall, ventilation holes, and protected from fire by stonework on all sides,» the instructor began, «but for some reason they didn’t bring it here. However, there’s better news — a new clue.» «What’s there?» Valery said impatiently, jumping up from his seat. «I’ll be right back and show you everything,» Sevastyanov replied, putting his goggles back on, inserting a tube into his mouth, and turning on the oxygen supply. He examined the walls again for hidden passages and, finding none, immediately jumped into the water, trying to climb out, but on a narrow turn, he realized he’d caught something on the walls and was stuck.

After twitching for a few seconds, Peter realized he was burying himself deeper, creating a wall of silt, and his air was running out faster and faster. Breathing became harder, his breathing quickened, but the miraculous oxygen refused to reach his brain. Another minute, and the tank was completely empty. Inhaling greedily, the man spat out the tube, letting water into his mouth, and made a gurgling sound: " Bgrudf.»

Chapter 31

«Pet, what’s wrong?» Valery asked, pushing the earpiece deeper into his ear with his finger. Silence followed, followed by the sound of gurgling water again. «Sevastyanov! Is everything okay?» he repeated, but the voice that came out was more like a mumbled» Bugph.»

«Something’s happened to him! Put on your suit!» Vinogradov commanded, clutching his head with both hands. Svetlana was glad her plan had come to fruition, but there was no way she could allow the man to be left alone on the boat. «No, I’m not going in there, I don’t want to get sick after the icy water!» she said, the first thing that came to mind. «He’s suffocating! My arm is shot, I can’t swim, please help him!» Vinogradov screamed, his heart’s cry audible on both banks, as sound traveled so well over water.

Verbova merely shook her head, declaring, «Sorry, but no, that was your wish. I did as I was asked, and now you sort it out yourselves.» Valery slammed his foot against the metal side of the boat with all his might, then clutched his knee, pierced by pain. «Sveta, if we both die in this abyss, I promise we’ll haunt you in your dreams every night, berating you for this choice,» he said, and without putting on his wetsuit or scuba gear, he dove overboard like a fish. The girl exhaled with relief, then immediately recited, «Avangard, over, this is Verba, birds in a cage, begin.» «Roger that, we’re working,» replied a young male voice from the other end, who immediately waved to the capture team, who, in quick bursts, with pistols at the ready, ran out from behind the fortress walls, heading toward the shore. Noticing the guys from afar, Svetlana exhaled heavily, started the boat’s engine and directed it away from the place of detention.

Meanwhile, Valery was trying to swim in the depths, his eyes slightly open. The icy water immediately enveloped his entire body, paralyzing his muscles and preventing them from moving. Trying to make a dash for shore, Vinogradov redoubled his efforts to move his limbs, but an unbearable pain immediately shot through his arm, practically causing him to scream. However, there was no time for that. Struggling with the oncoming pain and the numbness in his toes, he moved toward the flickering glow of the flashlight, barely making his way through the seaweed and mud. After swimming like this for about a minute, Valery noticed a hole in the stonework and legs in a wetsuit sticking out. It seemed Peter had gotten stuck in this passage on his way back, and his air tank had run out. With little oxygen in his lungs, Vinogradov quickly surfaced, ignoring the security guards surrounding the shore. He greedily inhaled the healing substance and dove back in, hoping his comrade was still alive. Apparently fueled by the adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream, his comrade’s legs continued to twitch. Grabbing one, the man pulled it toward himself, but found Peter firmly stuck.

Valery made a few more attempts, then quickly surfaced for air. His strength was already waning, and his arm had begun to bleed, staining the surrounding water scarlet. Vinogradov grabbed Sevastyanov’s limb again, but this time he braced his feet against the masonry, creating a sort of lever. With all his strength, Vinogradov pulled, and Peter’s body almost immediately shot out. He, with the lightning-fast lunge of a cobra, surfaced, gasping for oxygen and spitting out the water he’d swallowed. In his hands, he held the very key he’d found in the room he’d searched. On the one hand, it was a joy to find another clue, but on the other, all this chasing after ghosts was becoming increasingly tiresome and exhausting.

Following suit, Valery broke the surface, coughing and clutching his aching arm, gritting his teeth. «Are you okay?» he asked Peter, who was practically lying there, eyes wide open, greedily inhaling the oxygen-rich air. «Yes,» Peter managed, gradually calming down. Suddenly, movement was heard from the ground, and turning around, the men saw about a dozen masked men in body armor surrounding them, pistols cocked and pointed at them. «Come ashore with your hands up! No nonsense! Try to escape, and we’ll be forced to open fire!» a voice came over the radio. Valery swallowed nervously and did as he was ordered, fighting back the pain. «Where did they come from?» Peter asked in surprise, repeating his comrade’s words. «Keep quiet, don’t talk!» — a loud, staticky scream was heard again.

Suddenly, sirens were heard wailing behind them, and Vinogradov noticed a boat approaching them, its blue and red lights flashing alternately. «It’s probably there as a backup, in case we try to escape, but where’s Sveta then?» flashed through his mind. As soon as they stepped ashore, security officers handcuffed them, and one of them declared, «Citizens Sevastyanov and Vinogradov, you are being detained on suspicion of committing a crime under Part 2 of Article 238 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation — the performance of work or the provision of services that do not meet the requirements for the safety of life or health of consumers, committed by a group of persons by prior conspiracy in conjunction with illegal entry into an underground or underwater facility protected in accordance with Russian Federation legislation on departmental or state security, or into an important state facility.» I would like to explain to you that, in accordance with Article 46 of the Criminal Procedure Code of the Russian Federation, a suspect has the right to: know what they are suspected of, to provide explanations and testimony regarding the suspicions against them, or to refuse to provide explanations and testimony. Your testimony may be used as evidence in a criminal case. You have the right to seek the assistance of a defense attorney and to defend yourself by other means and methods not prohibited by law.»

«Now we’re really in trouble,» whispered Peter, rolling his eyes to the sky, reproaching himself for agreeing to come to Valery’s apartment that day.

Chapter 32

The next morning, Svetlana strode proudly to her colleagues’ office to discuss the recent arrest. As she swam away into the night, she caught a glimpse of her companions emerging from the water and being handcuffed. She knew perfectly well she’d done the right thing, but deep down, a nagging thought gnawed at her, whispering betrayal.

Verbova tried hard to push these thoughts away, but somehow, they kept coming back. The puddles left by the light evening rain splashed under her feet, where her black leather platform boots stepped, and the rising morning fog obscured the pedestrians and passing cars.

Having finally reached her destination, she met Valeryanov, the head of the group that had carried out the arrest that night, at the exit. Apparently, he was just heading home and had spent the entire time filling out the necessary paperwork. «Oh, what a meeting!» he said, smiling slightly, scratching his tired, sleep-closing eyes. «How did it go?» Verbova asked monotonously, so as not to betray the constantly overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret about what had happened. «Fine,» her colleague replied, yawning, «not without problems, but bearable. I’m only happy about this interdepartmental cooperation: the criminals are in a cage, and we all get new stripes. Beautiful!» «I agree,» the girl stated reservedly, adjusting her wind-tousled curls behind her ear. «And yet. What do they say?» Svetlana continued to pry from him, smiling welcomingly, turning on her feminine wiles. «Nothing at all!» «The man replied indifferently, too tired to notice anything. «They’re as quiet as a fish about ice, but we’ll soon expose them. You can’t imagine what a pain it was to find witnesses to conduct a search in the bushes on the embankment at two in the morning! Luckily, we dug up two random drunks. They ran away as soon as they saw us, though their legs refused to carry them.»

The girl laughed, but continued asking the questions she’d been wondering about. «What did they find on them?» «A diving suit, a flashlight, fins — basically, everything for swimming. Oh, and a strange key with a lion engraved on it. I don’t know where they got it, but it looks suspicious,» Valeryanov replied, breaking off the conversation and trying to reach the car. Verbova didn’t want to let him go so easily, so she followed. The officer was a little taken aback by this outburst, as he’d simply wanted to get to bed and go to sleep, but he was blocked by an obstacle that was trying to continue the conversation. «Wow, that’s interesting, I’d love to see it!» Svetlana exclaimed, looking intently at the man who’d already settled into the driver’s seat of his car.

«Go to the guardhouse, ask for it, they’ll bring it out to you. Tell them I gave the order,» he replied, tugging at the handle. However, the girl continued to hold the door, trying to extract something else of interest. «By the way, your guys are coming around two today to pick up these comrades in Moscow. You can go with them, since it’s on the way,» Valeryanov said, anticipating the next question. Seeing Verbova about to reply, he slammed the door hard, started the car, and pulled away so quickly that the wheels squealed as they spun for a second on the ground.

The car whistled off somewhere, raising a cloud of dust, leaving Svetlana standing alone in the parking lot. Her mood had improved slightly, now that she’d found out everything she wanted. But several things still bothered her.

She quickly walked inside and approached the checkpoint, handing over her ID: «Show me the evidence in the form of a key from the nighttime detention. Valeryanov has given permission.» There was movement behind the glass, and five minutes later, the clue Peter had found was brought to her in a sealed plastic bag. «I’ll take it to Moscow along with the criminals,» Svetlana said, after which the officer shrugged and quickly returned to his desk. Verbova stepped outside, peering at the unusual patterns of a lion, a vice, and anvil on the key’s head, clearly indicating a continued treasure hunt. At first, she had been skeptical, but now, having held in her hands a fragment of Titus Livy’s «History,» and now a new clue from the time of Ivan the Terrible, she became increasingly convinced of its existence. Looking at the find again, she moved toward her car with a bitter feeling, her mind racing over how badly she’d treated Valery and Peter. They were certainly involved in the infiltration of the Kremlin. Yes, Vinogradov had used her, but there were perfectly valid motives for that. And the shooting, for which they were searching for the perpetrators, was carried out by Prikhodko; they had no direct connection. And now, practically innocent people will suffer under the oppression of the state machine, which will crush them completely for pursuing their dreams and ruin the rest of their lives. And all of this is her fault.

It was a clear summer evening. Crickets chirped in the bushes, and frogs croaked somewhere in the distance on a pond. The pleasant, spicy scent of drying herbs filled her nose. She was twenty, he a little older, but that didn’t stop them from frolicking in childish abandon, chasing each other. Vinogradov raced after her along the country road until he finally tumbled into the tall green of the field. «Got you,» he declared joyfully, smiling, showing his teeth. «Yes,» Svetlana replied tenderly, hugging the young man. They lay like that for about half an hour in absolute silence, listening only to the insects and gazing at the lonely stars appearing in the sky. Verbova felt butterflies in her stomach; for the first time in her life, she felt herself falling in love, but she was afraid to admit it to him. She believed the feelings were mutual, so the safest move was to wait for Valery to take the initiative. She looked into his eyes, but saw not joy, but something else, something disturbing. Realizing she’d figured him out, Vinogradov said, «Sveta, I wanted to have a serious talk with you.»

A glimmer of hope flickered in Verbova’s heart that she would now hear what she wanted, but the young man said something completely different: «My parents are having financial problems, we’re selling our apartment and dacha and moving to another city. This is our last summer together.» «Wait, what?» the girl blurted out in shock, rising from the ground in surprise. «I can’t explain everything to you because I don’t understand anything myself. But they’ve presented me with a fait accompli: I’ll even have to transfer from university. I’m very sorry,» Valery replied sadly. «So you’re saying we’ll never see each other again?» Svetlana whispered in disappointment, trying to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. «Well, of course, we can call each other, write to each other online, maybe next year I can come visit once or even twice,» Vinogradov replied with an unperturbed expression. «Even two,» Verbova said, even more upset, turning away toward the dense forest, where a strong wind swayed the crowns of the conifers. «We’re not saying goodbye forever, after all. I will always wish you good luck and all the best in life!» Valery exclaimed, as if surprised by Svetlana’s reaction. She continued to look in the other direction, focused on a single point. Suddenly, she turned and said, «Remember, you spent your entire childhood telling me about Liberea, about how you’d find it when you grew up? Do you still want to do that?» «Yes,» Vinogradov replied curtly, «more than anything in the world.»

Verbova understood immediately and rolled her eyes, then declared, «Then I wish you to find her. And most importantly, not to lose what you have but don’t appreciate, even though you’ve already managed it so well.» After that, without saying goodbye, finally giving in to her emotions, she wandered toward home, while Valery tried to call out to her, but to no avail.

Now Svetlana looked at the key with completely different eyes. She understood that the search for the library was the most important thing in Vinogradov’s life, and she had interrupted him halfway to his cherished goal, perhaps even at the last step. After thinking about this for a few minutes, Verbova wiped away the tears falling on the clue she’d pulled out of the plastic bag and said out loud, «No, I have to get them out of this mess I’ve caused.»

Chapter 33

Valery sat in a dark cell in one of the basements, handcuffed to a table. To his right stood a plate-glass window, behind which the law enforcement officers usually observed the proceedings, and in front was the door through which they exited. The air was incredibly damp and cold, causing him to shiver constantly from a bone-chilling feeling. Nerves and the feeling that the situation was escalating to the limit also didn’t add to his strength, so within a few hours of his arrest, Vinogradov had completely burned out mentally, like a small match, blazing brightly at the beginning and slowly and inexorably extinguished by the end. Now he was completely relaxed, his eyes drooping from lack of sleep, but the sound of metal doors clanking and closing somewhere in the background was haunting.

Water dripped from somewhere above, periodically landing on the victim’s head. While it didn’t cause any particular discomfort or harm, it was incredibly irritating with its monotony and echoing sound that filled the entire room afterwards. Vinogradov knew well that in the Middle Ages, a similar torture method was used: prisoners were tied up, the back of their heads shaved, and forced to sit endlessly while the liquid dripped down, hitting their skull. This method was especially popular because it didn’t cause serious bodily harm to the victim and could then be continued for very long periods, placing great psychological strain on the prisoner. This is precisely why many prisoners chose the rack, the Spanish boot, or the «iron maiden» rather than endure this horrific ordeal.

Now the situation was completely different, and Valery understood that the leak was caused by a weakened layer of water-repellent material used to coat the walls of buildings sunk underground, but deep down he could imagine that this sophisticated method could have been kept as a trump card.

He hadn’t heard from Peter since his arrest, but he hoped he wouldn’t confess. The best option now was to wait for a lawyer and not say anything unnecessary, even if his testimony would later be deemed illegal. Then, loud footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by the turn of a key in the lock, and a young man no older than twenty-five, wearing a plain suit and carrying a folder, entered the room. Unfolding it and picking up a pen, he asked, without introducing himself, «Well, shall we begin?» «And who are you, exactly?» Vinogradov inquired, about to cross his arms, but suddenly remembered they were handcuffed to the table. The resulting movement was awkward.

Noticing this impulse, the stranger smiled, took a key from his pocket, and unfastened the straps, freeing the prisoner, who immediately began rubbing his numb wrists. «My name is Alex. We detained you last night. So, I have a couple of questions,» the man began to gradually choose his words. «I’ve already told your colleagues that I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer,» Vinogradov replied, finally sitting in a comfortable position. «I know everything, just understand, I want to help you, but I can’t do that if I don’t know all the details,» the stranger continued, taking a candy from his other pocket and handing it to Valery. «Will you have it?» he asked. «No, thank you,» Vinogradov said, shaking his head like the pendulum of an antique clock.

«That’s a shame, I would have eaten it,» Alex said, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth. «Then let’s get back to our business. You see, you’re accused of committing two crimes under the criminal code. And the Kremlin, this is no joke! Even if a lawyer could get you out, do you think our guys couldn’t ruin your life? Absolutely not! No, of course I’m on your side, but just think about this offer: information in exchange for a peaceful retirement.»

Vinogradov was well aware of these tricks and the carefully placed traps through which the stranger sought to kindly squeeze the truth out of him. This tactic was more successful than Valeryanov’s, but it still lacked the grace typical of his profession. The direct attacks were too predictable.

«You know,» Vinogradov drawled, evoking hope in Alex, who looked up at him. «I think I’ll pass.» His hope for the best was immediately replaced by anger. Incredible anger and irritation began to show in his eyes, but the officer quickly hid them, smiled shyly, rose from his seat, walked to the door, and knocked twice. «If you change your mind, call me. There’s not much time. You’re being taken to Moscow in an hour and a half,» he said disappointedly, then walked out, slamming the door behind him.

This phrase slightly unsettled Valery, whose nerves had calmed. Moscow? But why? No, it was perfectly logical, given the crimes they were accused of, but who was going to pick them up and interrogate them? The question remained open. The man had no idea that his main trump card — his lead to Prikhodko — had yet to be realized. So, lost in his thoughts, Vinogradov sat in absolute silence and solitude for about forty minutes, which would normally fly by in an instant but now seemed like an eternity, when suddenly the door swung open and Alex appeared, handcuffing him again and nodding his head for him to follow. «Where are we going?» Valery asked, but received only silence in response.

After some time and two endless corridors, his companion finally answered, «They’ve come for you.» This phrase made the man swallow hard and, barely dragging his feet, move on. Suddenly, from around the corner, another officer led an exhausted, dull-looking Peter out. He looked at Vinogradov with tired eyes, as if to say he looked just like him. Silently nodding to each other, they headed toward the exit, hoping to finally breathe some fresh, invigorating air after the musty, dusty aromas of the basement. After walking for about a hundred miles, the men finally emerged through the far door into a spacious hallway, whose windows overlooked the road and passing cars. Suddenly, noticing a familiar figure, Valery stopped dead in his tracks, blinking in surprise. It was Svetlana, standing with her back to them and staring off into the distance. «Come on, what are you standing there for!» «Alexei declared, pushing Vinogradov in the back. «Go ahead, I can handle this myself,» he told his partner, who nodded meaningfully, brought Peter closer, turned around, and went back into the airlock. Seeing his girlfriend, the man was furious; in his mind, he realized that Verbova had vanished into thin air during their arrest, and now she was reappearing as the person who was supposed to take them to Moscow. Valery glared at her, nodding his head to indicate the object of his anger to Sevastyanov. However, Sevastyanov could clearly see the scene in his own mind.

At this point, Alex led them to the girl, and she turned around. «I thought you’d arrive later and with a larger force,» the officer said, looking at Svetlana with disbelief. «Yes, but we decided I’d pick up the prisoners myself,» she replied, moving closer, but he ordered her to step back. «I need to contact Sylvester Gennadyevich; he’s in charge of the operation,» the man said, preparing to lead the detainees back to their cells.

«Wait,» Verbova snapped. «Why bother with these problems? Leave them here. You know me, and so does Mikhailov. I’ll keep watch. Then you’ll have a chance to go and make a call.» The officer visibly hesitated, shifting from foot to foot and darting his gaze along the walls. After thinking about it for a minute, he replied, «Okay, I’ll be right back.» Then he shoved the detainees in the back toward the girl and ran off after his comrade.

Valery continued to devour Svetlana, who stood proudly, her expression self-assured, but she suddenly approached him and, her eyes frightened, declared, «Come with me quickly.» «We’ll wait; we don’t want to deal with traitors!» Vinogradov replied calmly, yawning slightly. «I said let’s go. I’m risking as much as you are now; I’ll explain everything later. Well? Now or never!» she hissed, grabbing Peter by the elbow. He shifted slightly, and Valery, sighing heavily, followed suit.

Together, they ran out onto the porch and quickly jumped into the car. Svetlana quickly started the car, and it jerked out of the parking lot, kicking up a cloud of dust, heading somewhere toward the city limits.

At that moment, Alex called Verbova’s boss, asking, «Your subordinate just came in and said she was picking up prisoners. I thought there would be a group.» «Of course, she shouldn’t be doing that; my guys are still on the way. Under no circumstances should you hand over the detainees to her. I don’t like this!» Sylvester declared, frowning deeply. Then another employee ran into the office with the work phone, shouting, «They’ve been taken! Svetlana forced them into a car and drove away!» «Where were you looking!» Alex exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and slamming the phone down on the table. Meanwhile, Mikhailov was yelling from his office, «Idiots! How could anyone trust you with anything!» followed by a blatant stream of obscenities, a literary description, and metaphors, all illustrating the mental abilities of his interlocutors.

Chapter 34

Overtaking other cars in traffic, Svetlana’s car sped through the city at full speed, accompanying its progress with a constant blaring of horns, shooing the slower drivers away. Valery and Peter, like two sacks, sloshed around in the backseat, slamming into each other and the upholstery.

Verbova took a drifting turn, sending smoke into the air from the tires grinding against the asphalt under heavy braking, and they sped toward the highway. Once the car was out of town, she stepped on the gas even harder, accelerating to over 150 miles per hour. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead, and the veins in her temples bulged from the strain, visible even through her thick hair. «Sveta, please slow down, I’m going to throw up,» Vinogradov pleaded, fighting back the urge to vomit. Seeing his strangely greenish complexion in the rearview mirror, Verbova exhaled heavily and slowed down slightly, trying to keep the car in one lane. «Thank you,» the man whispered, opening the window slightly and releasing the contents of his stomach into the street, where they swept onto the windshield of a car passing behind him, causing it to vigorously wipe its windshield to clear the unexpectedly obstructed view. «Valera!» Svetlana protested, but he merely smiled and apologized.

«Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?» Peter suddenly interrupted their tangled conversation, grabbing the handle above the door to steady himself. «Yes, I’m also very curious: how did security track us down at Sobornaya Gorka, and also why do they know about you? But most importantly, where are you taking us?» Vinogradov began asking one question after another. «Let’s start from the beginning: when you dived for Sevastyanov, I noticed a raiding party approaching on the shore and decided to get away before it was too late. Then I came to them, and since they were looking for you, and my department was among them, I offered to pick you up, and we’re going as far away from here as possible before they suspect anything,» Verbova began to lie, a little strangely and not very believably. But, apparently due to fatigue, stress, and the emotions they’d experienced, the men believed this brazen lie. Svetlana herself still couldn’t answer why she suddenly changed her mind, first handing them over to law enforcement, and then saving them, but such was the momentary surge of weakness and feelings that the influx of memories from her youth brought about.

«Okay, but where are we now? Both agencies are looking for us, the key we found in the dungeon is with them, and there are no leads,» Valery said disappointedly, sadly gazing out the window at the changing landscapes of forests, fields, and swamps, rushing past at high speed, like a kaleidoscope of natural phenomena. «And that’s where you’re wrong,» the girl countered, opening the glove compartment, fishing out the clue she’d found from a plastic bag, and tossing it onto the backseat. «And here’s a file for the handcuffs for now; we’ll figure out how to remove them later,» she said, handing over the tool she’d bought an hour ago. At that moment, Vinogradov fished the key Peter had found out of the bag and began examining the intricate design on the cap. «Excellent! At that time, and even now, it was a stunning piece of work!» he declared, examining the engravings. Meanwhile, Sevastyanov began sawing away at the bridge of the handcuffs, the clanking of metal accompanying the process. «I can tell you that this drawing only points to one place: a lion, an anvil, a vice — it’s the coat of arms of the Aleksandrovskaya Sloboda!» Valery said excitedly. «And you think the treasure is there?» asked Svetlana, her head spinning from so many clues.

«Certainly,» Vinogradov exclaimed, «look: the years 1565—1566 in Russian history mark the beginning of the oprichnina, the center of which was the Alexandrovskaya Sloboda. Having built the Moscow Kremlin, Russian and Italian craftsmen arrived in the Alexandrovskaya Sloboda at the beginning of the 16th century and erected here a sovereign’s court second only to the capital’s in beauty, size, and wealth. If it was built similarly to the Moscow one, it follows that extensive underground storage facilities were also constructed there. The tsar, leaving Moscow for an extended period, would never have been without books. Pastor Johann Wettermann saw the library and was even allegedly invited there to translate some scrolls. And the fact that Ivan the Terrible not only wrote in the Sloboda but also set up a printing press with the help of Andronicus Ignoramus, a student of Ivan Fedorov, indirectly supports the library’s location in Alexandrovskaya Sloboda. But the Tsar most likely did not have time to take her to Moscow: he had other things to do — he was taking the coffin with the body of the Tsarevich to the royal tomb.»

«In 1650, the Assumption Convent was founded on the site of the Alexander Kremlin,» Peter continued. «Until its closure, the nuns zealously tended the extensive dungeons. In the late 1950s, a woman from Alexandrov, at the request of the deceased last abbess, came to the USSR Ministry of Culture to see the minister and report the fate of the library. But she was unable to reach the minister, and the staff treated her report with equanimity. Archaeological excavations uncovered the massive foundations of Grozny palaces, an underground passage, and other interesting finds.»

«Okay, so let’s say it’s somewhere around there, but the Alexander Kremlin isn’t that small. Where are we supposed to look for it?» Svetlana asked, raising an eyebrow. «Under the Church of the Intercession,» Valery answered confidently. «Previously, it was connected, at least by underground passages, to the now-lost Ceremonial Chamber, which was a large white-stone building, built similar to the Granovita Chamber in Moscow. Judging by the thickness of the walls and the depth of the basements, it was at least two stories high. And besides, in the capital, we just happened to reach a hidden room through tunnels from there. Why don’t Italian architects replicate the already-implemented tunnel design?»

«So, Alexandrov,» Verbova said, looking heavily into the mirror, hoping that all this would end soon.

Chapter 35

Alexandrov

All the companions stood in the square within the fortress walls, watching the rain from about an hour earlier trickle down the stonework, leaving damp streaks on the white plaster walls. The grass around them was completely withered, and the leaves from the trees, in places not cleared, covered it with a carpet of black-brown rot. The cold, piercing the knuckles, combined with the incredible humidity, whispered in their ears the approach of a season many dislike in our latitudes: winter. The other day, forecasters had predicted a light snowfall, which, while it should have melted, would nonetheless add to the atmosphere for anyone outdoors at that moment.

Rubbing his wrists, freed from the handcuffs of a local skilled worker — a former inmate — for a hefty fee a couple of hours earlier, Valery tried to warm himself up. He pulled his hood over his head as soon as he felt a cold, uncomfortable sensation building in his ears. He then scanned the grounds of the Alexandrovskaya Sloboda with a careful gaze, spotting in the distance the most massive of the entire complex, a two-story building with a tall bell tower attached. This was the Church of the Intercession of the Holy Virgin, the very same church they were heading for. Currently, most of its space is occupied by a museum housing exhibits from the reign of Ivan the Terrible in this monastery, but treasure hunters were interested in something entirely different — the cellars and secret tunnels, hidden from public view under a thick layer of history and mysterious mysteries. They did not know how the key would be useful, but they suspected that behind the wall, hidden from everyone, there must be a door and a lock that it would open.

«So, shall we go?» Vinogradov asked with undisguised enthusiasm, looking at his frozen and shivering companions, their teeth chattering loudly for several feet. They nodded in agreement, and together they set off in search of the unknown. In the distance, bundled up and holding umbrellas in case of rain, sat a small tour group, arriving on one of the buses parked nearby. They had clearly chosen an inopportune time, but it seemed they wouldn’t mind any weather conditions when it came to exploring a topic they were interested in — or the money they’d paid for it. «And now we’ll take a look at the most interesting part of this exhibition — the museum dedicated to Ivan IV’s rule of the country during the Oprichnina. It was here that he moved the capital from 1565 to 1581, the year his son died. «We won’t discuss the reasons for his death, there are a lot of legends about it, let’s go inside and finally warm up,» the guide said, inviting the group to follow her.

Quickly slipping after them, the companions paused at the entrance, watching as the travelers put on shoe covers and continued on. «Where do we go now?» Svetlana whispered, watching the number of tourists gradually diminish in the lobby. «For now, we move on. As soon as you see a door leading down, we release the witnesses, get out the wire cutters, and break the lock,» Vinogradov replied confidently, clearly envisioning every step of the plan. «And you’re sure there won’t be a guard in the room?» Peter asked, stretching his stiff neck. «No, but if so, we’ll think of something,» Valery said, following the group. «I wish I had his confidence,» Sevastyanov whispered to Verbova and followed him.

«If we look into that secluded nook, we’ll find ourselves in makeshift casemates, but at the time it was used to store barrels and provisions,» the guide explained. The instructor quickly darted downstairs but returned just as quickly, saying there was nothing there. «And here you see the throne. Of course, the tsar didn’t sit here; there was a special chamber for that, now destroyed and not preserved, but you can get a sense of the general atmosphere of that time,» the woman continued. «Is there something there, where it actually was?» Svetlana whispered to Vinogradov, so as not to draw attention to herself. «There must be,» Valery replied with a smile and continued on. Suddenly, a miniature oak door with a small padlock hanging on it caught his eye. Having tried to superimpose its location on a rough map of the area with the Tsar’s Palace projected in his imagination, the man concluded that it might be suitable, after which he made a characteristic gesture to his comrades, meaning that they needed to try.

After waiting for all the spectators to exit the room and encountering no resistance from the babushka-like security guards, the searchers pulled out a pair of massive, sharp wire cutters from the bag they’d brought and, in a few quick movements, snipped the padlock, trying to remain discreet. It began to fall, but Peter easily caught it in a half of a foot off the floor and held it higher. «So, are you ready?» Valery asked, but from the girl’s look, he knew there was no time to waste. Opening the light door, he found only a room no more than 6 feet in size, with a whole assortment of cleaning supplies. After carefully examining the walls, he said, «Not that, let’s move on.» They followed the tour through the remaining rooms, but found no exits, or they were clearly in a different direction from where the palace had been.

«So, what now?» Svetlana asked as soon as they were outside. «We need to look around,» Vinogradov replied, trying to calm down and not give in to panic. The comrades circled the church until another suspicious door with a larger lock caught their attention. «Nippers won’t get through this one, we need an angle grinder,» Peter declared regretfully, when suddenly Valery, wielding an axe, slammed into the unfortunate door from behind, pushing him aside. «What are you doing? There are so many people around!» Svetlana screamed, trying to stop him, but the man had already finished what he started, and the piece of metal hammered into the board, holding the hinge for the lock, flew off, releasing the bolt. «Hurry up, before anyone gets here,» Vinogradov growled, opening the door. Verbova and Sevastyanov exchanged silent glances, twirling their fingers at their temples and looking around at the passersby watching them with bulging eyes, but they followed the order.

They all found themselves in a dark, spacious, enclosed space where lawn mowers and other construction equipment for cleaning the grounds were stored. There was no light anywhere, so the girl took a flashlight from her bag and illuminated the surrounding area. Dark, ancient stones jutted out from the walls at various angles, and the damp smell of accumulated moisture from the rain assaulted their nostrils.

«You’re crazy,» Peter said, approaching his partner and looking at him with disapproval. «I know,» he replied calmly, seemingly unsurprised by the accusation, carefully examining the surface of the room. Then he came across a curious raised engraving on one of the boulders, on which was etched a barely noticeable, tiny unicorn symbol.

«Here it is,» he said confidently, calling his colleagues over.

Chapter 36

Svetlana and Peter quickly approached, peering at the wall and trying to figure out what their friend was talking about. «Isn’t it wonderful?» Valery declared excitedly, smiling at the new find. «It really is stone! Amazing!» Verbova quipped, crossing her arms over her chest. «No, take a closer look!» he declared, pointing at the engraving. «There’s an entrance here, at least one of them! But how do you get there?»

Afterwards, he peered closely for a long time, trying to locate the seam, but the shimmering reflections in the darkness and the varying degrees of convexity of the stones made it difficult to focus on a specific object. Suddenly, a new idea struck him, and, exerting more force into his hand, he pressed the design, pushing it inward like a button. A clicking and cracking sound came from the other side, and currents of air blew from the widening crack from four corners, raising clouds of centuries-old dust and sand.

A few seconds later, in place of the dead end, a wide gap formed, through which a person could easily squeeze almost at full height, and, shining a flashlight inside, a clear halo of a narrow and dark tunnel could be traced, going into the distance, and then looping several times along its path, writhing like a snake’s tail.

«Please, to the treasure!» Vinogradov declared proudly, taking a step inside, but Peter suddenly called out to him, causing him to stop abruptly. At that moment, another click occurred, and a hail of arrows erupted from the walls, ready to pierce the unfortunate seeker to death. Valery swallowed nervously, realizing that where the void had been, he should now be standing, riddled like a hedgehog with barbed shafts protruding from his body, bleeding profusely. Svetlana’s eyes widened in surprise, as she was encountering traps for the first time, but Sevastyanov broke the silence: «I just wanted to tell you about possible surprises.» «I already understand,» the man replied, calming down a bit.

After that, he picked up one of the wheels unscrewed from a wheelbarrow lying nearby and rolled it across the hallway floor. It made its journey unharmed, then hit the wall of the first turn and fell on its side. «At least there aren’t any more traps up to that point,» Valery concluded, scratching his chin. «Or maybe his weight isn’t enough to trigger them,» Peter countered, frowning. «That’s also a possibility,» Vinogradov agreed, exhaling heavily.

«Are you sure we need to go there?» Svetlana asked, stuttering slightly, beginning to fear for her life. «No, but we don’t have a choice either. We either find Liberea or we shouldn’t have started,» the teacher declared, and, pointing the flashlight into the depths, he entered the passage. Valery followed, leaving the girl standing alone in the empty basement. She hesitated for a few seconds, trying to convince herself that abandoning the boys in this situation was wrong, and then, cursing the day she’d agreed to go to the concert, she plunged into the bottomless abyss of her fear.

At first, the companions walked relatively calmly, until Peter tripped over a fallen wheelbarrow, turning his head toward the continuing corridor. Of course, the walk was terrifying, his legs trembling slightly, but the thought of this treasure solving all his financial problems, which had engulfed his previously carefree life like a tsunami, spurred and invigorated him. Peering closely at the illuminated stone vault, Sevastyanov saw no signs of openings that could skillfully conceal new obstacles. Raising his eyes to the sky, which lay somewhere above this layer of earth and buildings, he began to slowly move deeper with a heavy heart, hoping for the best.

A few dozen steps later, Peter found himself at a crossroads where the tunnel split into three paths. «So where do we go now?» the teacher asked Valery, who had caught up with him. «Okay, look,» he replied, shining a light on each alleyway, «it’s blocked by earth and rubble, so even if we wanted to, we can’t get through. We’re left with two options: straight ahead or left.» «So, what’s the verdict?» Sevastyanov continued to pester him, simultaneously trying to decide for himself. Vinogradov hesitated, then mentally counted them, childishly, and, for luck, pointed straight ahead. His comrade didn’t ask him why and continued slowly in the chosen direction just as Svetlana caught up with them.

Together, they continued on until Peter stepped on a slab, the click of it echoing throughout the corridor, bouncing off the walls. «Back!» he shouted, jerking back, but at that moment Valery, slowing down, and Verbova, who was moving faster than she should, crashed into him. The treasure hunters collapsed like dominoes, falling forward, and then the whistle of arrows bouncing off the stonework was heard from behind. «We went the wrong way, otherwise the trap would have worked in the opposite direction! How did you choose?» Sevastyanov shouted, trying to pull his leg out from under his companions who had piled on him. «By counting,» Vinogradov replied calmly, standing up and extending his hand to the girl lying on the floor. «Ah, by counting! Well, that certainly vindicates you. Come on, go back!» — Peter, who in the company almost became a dried-up skeleton in a forgotten dungeon, kept yelling.

Returning to the fateful climax, the treasure hunters turned right, examining the walls and floors even more carefully. After walking this way for about 240 feet, they finally reached the desired door with a massive lock — a huge piece of metal with a double-headed eagle carved into it and a mechanism hidden within. After examining the opening, Valery pulled the key from his bag and, looking from it to the door and back again, whispered, «Is it really that simple?»

«So, deadly arrow traps are too easy for you?» Sevastyanov continued to rant, his anger rising. «Shut up already, I’m sick of it!» Svetlana exclaimed, cooling his anger somewhat. Meanwhile, Vinogradov inserted the key and turned it with difficulty in the lock, afraid of breaking the mechanism, worn by the merciless passage of time. The mechanism clicked, and the bolt popped out, releasing the latch from its groove. He pulled the handle, but the door had sagged in its hinges over the years, and it refused to budge. «Would you mind helping?» he groaned. «You seem to be doing just fine on your own,» Verbova joked, but she nevertheless went over to help, after which Peter followed suit, frowning in displeasure.

Together, they pulled, and the door, cracking alternately, buckled, then tore off one of its hinges and fell sideways, nearly pinning Valery, who was standing at the edge, to the wall under its weight. This happened just as she had successfully managed to open a passage wide enough to get inside.

The companions exchanged satisfied glances and entered the room with anticipation, hoping to discover there a treasure of their ancestors, shrouded in centuries of mystery in the history of Russia and the entire world, which dozens, if not hundreds of people before them had so passionately desired to possess.

Chapter 37

Their eyes darted into the darkness, trying to discern the nooks and crannies of the room they’d discovered, but their joy quickly gave way to disappointment. The room was small — only 15 feet, with no light source or hint of storage space for a large number of relics. Three chests stood in the corners, two of which had their doors open.

Upon closer inspection, Valery initially entertained the hope that the library was inside, just not as large, and that everything else was just a veil and legend, layered on by historians and scholars who had studied the subject, giving Libereya the status of a site of global significance and its gigantic size. However, even this theory failed — both chests were empty. A table and a few burnt-out candles sat in the center of the room. Perhaps Ivan the Terrible read his chosen books here, but the library was clearly located elsewhere.

As luck would have it, Vinogradov opened the last chest, shining his flashlight inside. At the very bottom lay a small icon in a wooden frame, covered in centuries of dust and cobwebs. Fishing out the only object, Valery shook it out and turned it over.

«Is that all?» Svetlana asked in frustration, her lips pressed together. «Again, nothing but clues and hints, and everything repeating itself! I’m so sick of this!» Peter exclaimed, angrily kicking a nearby chest and then clutching his injured limb, which had encountered more resistance than it had seemed before the collision.

«Are you finished?» Vinogradov asked calmly, sitting down on a chair next to the table. It immediately cracked under his weight and broke into three wooden pieces. «Yes,» Sevastyanov smiled contentedly, secretly laughing at the incident, «show me what’s there?» Valery turned the icon toward the teacher and the girl bending over it, revealing an unusual design. It depicted a holy man and woman with halos above their heads, standing at the corners and holding the Kremlin in their hands, exactly in the middle. Beneath their feet, waves of water as blue as the sky crashed against the shore, overgrown with coastal plants.

«What does that mean?» Peter asked in surprise, seeing this icon for the first time. «It’s a new city, with a fortified wall, and somehow connected to Ivan IV!» Svetlana exclaimed. All these phrases were breaking Vinogradov’s concentration as he began to recall where he had seen this intricate image. «Wait! Stop jabbering, let me think!» he shouted, trying to slow the pace and intensity of the discussion a bit. Realizing that one more question and their comrade would explode, the comrades immediately fell silent.

«So, saints, and the Kremlin. An icon. Ivan the Terrible. No, something doesn’t add up!» Valery mused. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him, and, looking closely at the face of the holy man sitting to the left, he recognized him. «This can’t be!» Vinogradov exclaimed, his voice ringing throughout the room. «What happened? Did you understand?» Svetlana asked with interest, trying to identify the image herself. «It’s Michael and Xenia of Tver,» the man replied enthusiastically. «So you think that, judging by the building and the faces, we need to go to Tver,» Peter summarized, understanding what he was getting at. «I’m not sure I can tell you more with internet access at the hotel, as I don’t have any phones with me, but yes, it looks like this is our next stop.» Moreover, the first wife of his grandfather, Ivan III, during whose reign Libereya was founded, was a daughter-in-law from Tver, so the grandson could well have wanted to hide his main treasure there, away from prying eyes, without telling anyone. But there’s one small, I’d even say a minor, problem,» Vinogradov said.

«And what, may I ask? I think after infiltrating the Kremlin, destroying Pashkov’s house, being detained by special forces, and overcoming the traps, we’ll have no problem here,» Peter replied, taking the icon from his comrade and examining the intricate wooden ornamentation around the edges of the image. «How can I put this gently, we won’t be able to get into that fortress,» Valery said. «And why is that? We’ve been able to get everywhere else, but we won’t be able to get there?» Sevastyanov grew angry, handing the find to Svetlana. «Because the Kremlin isn’t there, and hasn’t been for a long time,» the man said, trying to figure out what to do next.

Chapter 38

«Wait, what do you mean no?» Peter blurted out in surprise, peering closely at the icon. «Well, I’m not sure, but I think it burned down and was then dismantled as unnecessary, so now the search for the treasure is significantly more difficult,» Valery replied disappointedly, pacing the room. «But wait, there’s definitely something left, some trace. This can’t be the end! I refuse to believe it!» Svetlana declared, trying to reassure herself that she had sacrificed everything for a reason.

«Okay, it’s time to get out now, and we’ll think about this later, with a clear head,» Vinogradov said, heading toward the exit. The girl immediately followed him, leaving Sevastyanov splendidly alone in the empty room. His thoughts were jumbled, his lungs were short of breath, and tears began to well up in his eyes from nerves. He had so hoped that now, right here, they would find the library, his financial problems would be solved, and everything would return to normal, joyful and carefree. But fate had other plans. Yes, a new key had been found, the city and the location were clear, but everything else had gone to hell. No plan for what to do next, no prospects. In this foul mood, he punched the wall, which immediately crumbled into small pieces, and then followed his comrades out.

Svetlana and Valery moved through the corridors with more confidence, knowing the exact path to the exit almost blindly. A few dozen steps, and a light began to appear ahead, forming an elongated vertical strip. Having covered the necessary distance, they finally emerged into a basement room filled with gardening supplies, encountering a security guard looking around in surprise, holding a taser. Vinogradov silently cursed, realizing he was here for their behavior at the door, but nevertheless stepped forward to speak. The older man glared at them, extended his weapon, and declared, «Stay where you are, don’t move! I’ve called the police!»

The treasure hunters exchanged glances, realizing they didn’t need organ problems right now, but then Peter appeared from behind, slamming into Vinogradov’s back. «Stand next to them and raise your hands where I can see them!» the man shouted, his voice menacing but shaking with nerves. «Wonderful, simply wonderful!» he whispered, but did as he was told.

Svetlana realized that only she could get them out of this situation, so she reached for her purse, where she kept her ID card, and, just in case, a pistol slung on her belt. «Don’t move!» the guard growled, losing his composure even more as he pressed the button on his gun, causing blue lightning to play in the air from its tip. «Calm down, we’re already here!» the girl tried to convince him, taking out her ID card and unfolding it so it was visible.

Unable to believe his ears, the man decided to approach closer, but didn’t bother to read the contents when he noticed the combination of a flag, coat of arms, and rank. «Sorry, I didn’t know what you were doing here, did I?» he said guiltily, lowering the taser. «It’s okay, thank you for your vigilance, we’re conducting an investigative experiment, please don’t interfere,» Valery replied, quickly grasping the situation. «Yes, of course, sorry again,» the man repeated and rushed out of the basement. «What was that?» Peter asked in surprise, wiping the dust from his eyes. «We came out, and then there he was with his taser,» Vinogradov declared. «Let’s reminisce later, we need to get out of here quickly, the real police will be here soon,» Svetlana reminded him, and quickly moved toward the exit.

Her comrades exchanged glances and followed her. They had to run to the car parked near the settlement. The wail of approaching sirens could be heard in the distance, and just as the treasure hunters boarded the car, two police sedans, their red and blue lights flashing alternately, emerged from the horizon and stopped right at the complex’s exit, blocking it. Five officers then emerged and, together, they moved deeper into the fortress.

Svetlana froze at first, watching the scene unfold, but immediately moved as soon as Peter reminded her. «Phew, looks like I got away with it,» Valery breathed a sigh of relief, reclining his seat so he could stretch his legs out in front of him. «Yes, but I’m afraid next time will be different,» Verbova added, making him consider her words. «So what? Any suggestions for what to do next?» Vinogradov asked after a few minutes of silence. «I don’t know about you, but I need to stop at a landline and call my family,» Peter declared, settling more comfortably into the backseat. «Okay, we’ll probably find one that’s still around downtown,» Svetlana agreed.

After driving about a mile, her gaze caught the right device on a street corner under a concrete canopy. «Here, go there, take two hundred rubles in coins, that should be enough. We’ll wait for you somewhere around here; when you’re done, find us,» Verbova said, taking a bag of change from the armrest and handing it to Sevastyanov. He thanked her and got out of the car, heading toward the phone.

The girl parked nearby in a free space and turned off the engine, catching Valery’s happy gaze. «What?» she asked discontentedly, smoothing her tangled hair. «Perhaps we could grab a cup of coffee while he’s calling? I see a nice-looking cafe across the street,» he said, still smiling. Verbova wasn’t exactly thrilled with the suggestion, but now more than ever she needed to relax for at least a few minutes and take her mind off everything that had happened this week. «Okay, just for a little while,» she replied, opening the door to step outside. Vinogradov rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and followed her example.

Together they entered through the swinging door, triggering a bell above, whose pleasant ringing alerted the waiter, standing splendidly alone and slightly dozing, to the arrival of guests. He immediately perked up, rummaging around for two menu books, rubbing his eyes to regain his composure. «Please order me a latte for now, I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back soon,» Vinogradov said, and quickly departed to attend to his business. The girl nodded, sat down at a table with her back to the exit, and, without waiting for the waiter to offer anything, chose two cups of coffee herself. Pleased with himself, he left immediately, leaving the menu behind, but the ringing of the bell again stopped him.

Svetlana sensed several people entering the room, one of whom whispered something to the waiter, who quickly locked the door. Verbova wanted to turn around to see what was going on, but a man sat down right in front of her, smiling unpleasantly with his crooked teeth. «Well, hello, Sveta, long time no see,» Sylvester said, removing his wool cap and placing it on the table.

Chapter 39

«Hello,» the girl replied curtly, «what brings you here?» The boss grinned at the question, but said, «Yes, actually, for the same reasons as you. For a certain Vinogradov and Sevastyanov, who escaped from under the noses of our colleagues. More precisely, they were mercilessly stolen, and by none other than one of my best employees, my hope and support! Sigh!»

At that moment, Verbova reached for her weapon, glancing at her interlocutor out of the corner of her eye, but he said, «Sveta, don’t bother. Let’s avoid unnecessary scenes and gunfire. We’re our own people.» He then placed a loaded pistol on the table, pointing it at the girl, his finger on the trigger. Meanwhile, large men surrounded her from both sides, ready to strike at any moment to incapacitate the enemy. «As you can see, it’s best for you not to resist and to talk calmly,» Mikhailov continued his monologue.

«How did you find us?» Svetlana asked, wondering where she might have slipped up, but her boss refused to give a direct answer, limiting himself to: «What am I going to tell you? You understand perfectly well how we work and what our capabilities are!» «Remember, you promised me a certain person — Taras Prikhodko, and even provided access to him? But then you stole two wonderful things that would have led me to the figure I was looking for!» said Sylvester, constantly wincing and stroking his mustache. «Yes, but you see, I didn’t do it without reason!» Verbova exclaimed. «They’re all looking for the treasure — Liberea, the clues that lead to it are real and indirectly confirm the hypothesis of its mythical existence! I showed weakness, but it leads to success. Soon we’ll get close to the library, and that’s when Prikhodko will appear, and you’ll grab him warm!»

The boss assumed a thoughtful expression, removed his glasses, wiped the thick lenses with a rag, and then replied, «So what did you find here using the key from Vologda, which you also stole?» «There wasn’t Libereya here, but there is a new clue — an icon depicting the Kremlin and saints,» Svetlana declared, trying to find the right words to be convincing. Sylvester listened thoughtfully, then jumped up and grabbed the girl by the back of her hair, pulling her closer. «So where are you planning on going?»

«To Tver!» Verbova groaned, writhing in pain. «Very well, our men will follow you there, and I promise that if your fervently promised Taras Prikhodko doesn’t show up, we’ll detain you all instead. The punk from the outhouse, the nineties lover from the phone booth down the street, who’s currently being watched by colleagues, and even you, my dear, for orchestrating the escape. It would be a great shame to ruin the life of such a young, beautiful, and determined girl forever. You’ll all go to jail, and for a long time, that’s guaranteed. I’ll personally ask the prosecutor for the maximum sentence, believe me!» Mikhailov whispered in her ear, his voice constantly changing, sophisticated and ominous. «Do you understand me?» he asked irritably, pulling her head closer by the hair. «Yes,» she replied, trying to hold back the tears welling up from the physical and emotional pain. «Okay,» Sylvester declared, releasing the girl. «Here’s your phone; call me if you need me.» He then pulled the phone out of his pocket, tossed it in the middle of the table, stood slowly, buttoned the collar of his duffel coat, put on his wool cap, and nodded toward the waiter, who quickly opened the cafe door, letting the entire group out, and then returned to the bar.

Turning around and realizing that all the visitors had left, Svetlana finally gave in to her emotions, wiping away the tears of despair falling on the table with the napkins she had laid out.

Chapter 40

Sevastyanov stood outside, his hands shaking from the cold, holding a small bag of coins for a rusty, bluish-colored machine with peeling paint. He’d been trying for several minutes to figure out how to call home with it, glancing over his shoulder periodically, afraid the police would catch him at the most inopportune moment. He had a hood pulled over his head, pressing his greasy, long-unwashed hair against his face, preventing it from blowing wildly in the icy wind.

In fact, he was being watched from around the corner by two employees, who were occasionally exchanging words, but from a completely different agency. It was the security service, whose team leader was currently talking with Svetlana in the café. They kept a respectful distance, so as not to lose sight of their target but also to conceal their presence, constantly coordinating their actions with Sylvester. Meanwhile, Peter inserted coins into the machine, dialed the area code and landline number using the dial, then picked up the receiver and put it to his ear, listening to the long, irritating beeps. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, the beeps stopped, and his wife’s voice came from the other end: «Yes! Who is it?»

«Hi, it’s me, Petya, I can’t call from my cell phone right now,» the teacher said, his voice shaking slightly. «Where are you! Why aren’t you answering? So much has happened!» she screamed, breaking into hysterical sobs. «Marina, please listen to me, I’m still at a conference, I’ll be back soon, don’t worry!» Sevastyanov replied, growing increasingly nervous. «Stop lying! He lost our money and ran away, the debt collectors came and scratched the entire door and walls!» she yelled into the phone, periodically interrupting with obscene insults. «Please calm down,» Petya said, almost crying, «I’ll resolve everything soon, I promise you! I swear!» «I’m not finished!» his wife interrupted his excuses. «The authorities came to see us, they really wanted to see you, they say you infiltrated the Kremlin and started shooting there!»

«Marinochka, it’s all a blatant lie, don’t believe them!» the teacher exclaimed, kneeling on the cold ground, his legs finally giving out in this situation. One more sentence, and he’d be down with a heart attack right there on the dirty pavement next to the overflowing, long-unemptied trash can.

«And one more thing,» the girl continued, but then a man’s voice was heard in the background, and she immediately handed him the phone. «Hello, Peter, do you recognize him?» asked a voice eerily similar to Taras’s. «Prikhodko,» Sevastyanov swallowed, growing even more nervous. «That’s the one,» the man replied. «You and Valera gave me the slip in the metro and the Kremlin so cleverly that I was actually surprised by your foresight, but that’s not the point. We had your apartments staked out, but unfortunately, you never showed up. But I did see some friends from the Security Service, and here’s the rub: rumor has it they even arrested you in Vologda! But since you’re calling, where is the number from?» «From Aleksandrov, Vladimir Oblast,» Bogdan told him, checking it against the database.

«Excellent, Ivan the Terrible’s favorite city during the Oprichnina, and they’ve already found a new key, I take it. So listen up, you’re going to tell me about all your adventures with Valera until we find the treasure. Let the family sleep peacefully for now, but if anything happens, know that I can find her and kill her at any moment, and it would be a shame to touch such a charming and wonderful child, with whom I played for over an hour today. I’ll be generous, knowing about casinos and debt collectors: ten percent of the cost is yours, plus the life and health of the family to boot. Isn’t that wonderful? Sounds like a fantastic deal to me!» Taras explained his solution, spinning the pistol on his finger, periodically removing and replacing the trigger. At that moment, Sevastyanov was practically unconscious. His hands were convulsing, his left eye was twitching, and his breathing was ragged. «Boss, he’s acting strange, should he come closer?» «The officer asked over the radio, carefully observing the behavior of the target. «Stand down! Continue surveillance from the original distance!» Sylvester replied, afraid to spook the prey.

«Okay, I agree,» Peter said, calming down a bit and rising to his feet. «Wonderful!» Taras exclaimed. «So what’s your next destination?» «Tver, tomorrow,» the teacher said curtly. «Wonderful, it’s not even far. And one more thing, don’t say a word to Valera and the others who might be listening in on our conversation. You understand perfectly well that the desire to dump me could end badly for everyone. I think you understand,» Prikhodko concluded, smiling unobtrusively and handing the phone to the girl, who was still in a state of shock. «We’ll probably go, thank you for the time, I hope your husband makes the right choice,» he declared, and, waving to Bogdan, they quickly left the apartment, causing Marina to exhale heavily and, sinking to the floor, burst into tears of disappointment and helplessness.

At this point, Peter hung up the phone and, trying to stop his hands from shaking, headed towards the car, fully confident that now everything would be different.

Chapter 41

Svetlana continued to sit in the café, trying with all her might to calm down. Tears escaped her eyes and rained down on the snow-white tablecloth, leaving round, wet, streaked spots. She wiped her eyes with napkins, trying to stop, but her nerves were completely frayed, and she was close to breaking down. The mascara she’d applied that morning had run, leaving a corresponding mark on her face, a testament to the mood of the person wearing it.

Then, from behind her, Valery appeared, saying, «So?» with one hand on her shoulder, pleased, having spent longer in the restroom than he’d originally planned. He stared at the open menu lying on the table, then his gaze caught Verbova’s moist eyes, and then he heard barely audible sobs, more like groans. «Sveta, what happened?» he asked, perplexed, jumping up from his seat and coming closer. «Nothing,» she replied curtly, wiping the snot running from her nose with her fist. «Well, I’m not an idiot, I can see everything perfectly well. What happened? It’s like you’ve spotted a ghost,» Vinogradov continued to pester her, hoping for an answer.

Here she finally couldn’t hold back and gave full rein to her emotions. «Forgive me,» the girl whispered, increasingly trying to stifle her tears with napkins. «For what?» Valery asked in confusion, putting his arm around her shoulders. “ That night, in Vologda,“ Verbova continued, „I turned you in as criminals, I wanted us to get to Prikhodko that way. But now I understand what a mistake that was!“ „Quiet, calm down,“ Vinogradov answered her, enraged by this news, but trying to control himself and keeping an eye on the waiter watching them out of the corner of his eye, „the main thing is that you saved us, and now we’re together.“ „That’s not all!“ Svetlana snapped. „My boss was just here, he knows everything about the treasure and our movements. He monitors our every step. «We made a deal with him: if Taras shows up in Tver for our souls, they’ll catch him, and we’ll be free. But if not, we’ll all go to jail, and for a long time,» the girl continued, her voice hoarse with frustration and tears.

«So, no matter how much we don’t want to, we have to meet him there and find this treasure,» Valery said calmly, stroking her neck. «We’ll manage, we’ll survive this, I promise you.» Verbova looked into his eyes hopefully and, feeling the same emotions she had at twenty, reached out to him, lightly brushing her lips against his. She then jerked back, seeing him frozen with a frightened expression. «Sorry, something came over me, it’s all stress, I didn’t mean to,» she blurted out, deeply embarrassed. «Yes, no, it’s okay, I’m all for it,» Vinogradov replied, leaning back. Together, they entwined in a long kiss, so long-awaited and sensual after so many years of failing to confess their intentions. Their souls and bodies were ablaze, their temperature seemed to be rising, and their thoughts were in a tangled mess. The mind refused to work, having resigned itself to love and emotions.

Suddenly, a doorbell rang behind him, and someone entered. «Ahem,» he grunted loudly, and, tearing himself away, Valery realized it was Peter, who for some reason was standing at the entrance, his eyes bulging and his face paler than death. «I’ve been looking for you, I asked everyone I met, I was nervous, wondering what had happened, and now you’re here doing this,» he muttered, blushing and visibly more animated. «Yes, we have to go,» Svetlana said, wiping away the remnants of her makeup and tears, jumping up from her seat and tucking her coat under her arm. Valery looked at the waiter, who hadn’t bothered to bring them their order, declaring, «This is a disgusting café; you let in all sorts of crooks,» before following his companions out, leaving him completely bewildered.

As soon as the treasure hunters got into the car, Vinogradov and Verbova continued to glance tenderly at each other out of the corner of their eyes, provoking undisguised anger from Sevastyanov. «Are we just going to sit here, or should we go?» he asked discontentedly, crossing his arms over his chest in a proud pose. «So, to Tver?» Svetlana asked, starting the car. «Exactly there, we simply have no other options, it’s time to end this search,» Valery replied, looking out the window with anticipation, hoping to finally find the treasure he’d been searching for all his life.

Chapter 42

Tver

The next day dawned. It was much sunnier and more welcoming: the weather was clear, and the warm rays of the sun were a welcome relief after the previous day’s chill and rain. A soft, yet pleasantly deceptive, autumn breeze blew across my face, as if to say, «Seize this last chance to say goodbye to summer before it’s too late.» The noise of passing cars could be heard on the roads, and while it wasn’t as loud or annoying as in Moscow, it still ruined the pleasant feeling of a light and fleeting holiday right in the middle of October.