*****

 

Chapter 1

 

February 2021

 

 

Maria Miller slowly pulled into the parking lot outside of Spring City. It had been about an hour drive from campus, during which she had contemplated turning around three or four times. But here she was. She wasn’t impressed. Maria guessed that at one point, perhaps a couple decades ago, it had been a factory. Industrial buildings dominated this area north of the city. The name “Pirozhki & Kvass” was painted in large, faded letters on the façade.

 

Maria opened her car door and paused for a moment. Am I crazy? Am I crazy for doing this? After a moment she stepped out of the car and closed the door.

 

Underneath her fur coat she wore a sweater dress. Dark blue. The black tights she had on barely kept her warm as the winter air blew past her. She tightened her gray scarf and began walking towards the entrance of the warehouse. How did I forget a hat? Strands of blonde hair flew into her blue eyes. Her hands were shaking but she wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

 

She grabbed the door handle with a gloved hand and pulled. Warm air greeted her as the door swung open. Maria quickly walked inside, pulling the door behind her. It took her a couple seconds to take in the scene. The lobby was well lit and smelled of violets. On the maroon walls hung large portraits of winter landscapes.

 

“Welcome to Pirozhki & Kvass.”

 

She had not noticed the secretary at the desk. Maria smiled and walked towards her. “Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Orlov. I have an appointment for 9:30.”

 

“Your name?” asked the secretary. She was blonde and appeared to be in her early twenties.

 

“Maria Miller.”

 

“Ah, yes, Ms. Miller! We spoke on the phone last week.”

 

“You’re Tatiana?” Maria had imagined her older.

 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you in the flesh. Again, welcome. Please have a seat over there. Someone will be with you shortly.”

 

Maria walked in the direction that Tatiana had gestured and sat in a brown leather loveseat. She checked her phone. Maria hadn’t told anyone about this appointment. It was Friday morning, and most of her friends were either on their way to class or in bed nursing hangovers. She had carefully crafted her schedule so that she would only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, essentially gifting herself a five-day weekend every week for her final semester at the University of Monroe.

 

While it freed up most of her week, it required strong time management skills and discipline to ensure she completed her all of her assignments over her five-day weekends. She remembered that she had a 10-page essay for her Russian literature seminar due on Tuesday. I hope this doesn’t take too long. She wasn’t looking forward to the hour-long drive back to campus. And the weather app showed that it could start snowing soon.

 

“Ms. Miller?”

 

A brunette woman stood in the doorway to the left of Tatiana’s desk. Maria stood up.

 

“Hi, my name is Irina. I’m here to take you to Mr. Orlov’s office. Please follow me.”

 

As Maria walked through the door Tatiana whispered, “Good luck,” and smiled. Maria walked past Irina and heard the brunette shut the door behind her. “Mr. Orlov has been looking forward to meeting you. In fact, we all have,” said Irina.

 

She seems nice. “I’m excited to be here. I’ve heard great things about P&K.”

 

“Trust me, whatever you’ve heard, believe the hype.”

 

Maria smiled as they turned right down the hallway. “How long have you worked here?”

 

“Coming on six years now. This was my first job after graduating. Hey, I heard you go to UMon?”

 

“Yes, I’m in my last semester now.”

 

“Go Badgers! I graduated in 2015. I live in Spring City now, but I still miss that campus.”

 

Irina slowed down as they approached a black door at the end of the hallway. “FYODOR ORLOV” was engraved on the door in gilded lettering. Below the name, also in gold, was “ASSET MANAGER”.

 

Irina knocked on the door and turned back to Maria. “Make sure you enjoy this last semester; it goes by so fast. Trust me, my last semester is all a blur,” she laughed.

 

Maria smiled back. “I will, thank you.”

 

The black door swung open. The girls turned to face the tall man in the entrance.

 

“Mr. Orlov, I have Ms. Maria Miller for your 9:30,” said Irina.

 

Fyodor Orlov stood over six feet tall and wore a burgundy velvet suit. He had a full head of hair, mostly black with hints of grey, that was swept back. He would have been perfectly handsome if not for an eye patch slung over his right eye. Maria had to keep herself from giggling when she realized that the eyepatch was made out of the same burgundy velvet material as his suit.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Nikitina. Ms. Miller, please come in,” he said, grinning. His voice was deep and melodic. He held the doorknob with one hand and held out the other in the direction of his office.

 

Maria waved goodbye to Irina and stepped past Orlov. His office was well furnished, although Maria quickly noticed that there were no windows.

 

“May I take your coat?”

 

“Yes, of course,” she said, removing it. No wonder I’m so warm.

 

After hanging her coat, he closed the door and gestured towards the leather couch opposite his desk. Maria sat down and crossed her legs, careful not to scratch her tights with her heels. What had earlier just been nervousness now evolved into nervous excitement. Maria felt her heart beat with every step Orlov took towards his chair.

 

As he sat down, Maria noticed how abnormally large his desk was. It took up a good portion of the office and seemed to be carved out of a single piece of mahogany. The front of the desk faced Maria as if it were a wall; she could not see Orlov’s legs. It had intricate relief carvings of intertwined women covering the whole front. As she more closely examined the desk, Maria realized that the women were all grasping the letters “P&K”, as if the initialism were magnetic.

 

“I do hope you found our office alright,” said Orlov. “I know it’s a bit of trek from UMon.”

 

“It wasn’t too bad, only about an hour.”

 

“Good, good. Well, we’ll try not to keep you too long. I think a blizzard is coming this afternoon.”

 

“I heard about that. It’s okay, though, I don’t mind driving in the snow.”

 

“Good,” he said, shuffling through some papers on his desk. “I know you spoke to Tatiana last week, and I have your resume here. I must say, Ms. Miller, you’re quite impressive.”

 

She smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Orlov, it’s an honor to be here.”

 

He smiled back. “Please, call me Fyo. Fee-Oh.”

 

He stared at her with one piercing blue eye. Even though she had removed her coat she still felt flush.

 

“Would you like a glass of water?”

 

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

 

A few moments later a door to Maria’s left opened and a young man walked into the office. He had brown hair and wore a black suit. The man handed her a glass of water, turned around, and walked back through the door. Maria hadn’t even noticed the second door before he walked in. She wondered how the man knew to bring her the glass of water then and there.

 

“So, Ms. Miller, why are you here?”

 

She sat up straight. The interview had started. “As you know, Mr. Orlov, I’m in my senior year at the University of Monroe. I’m a Russian major. I’ve always loved Russian history. I studied abroad in St. Petersburg last year—”

 

“Forgive me,” he said, lifting a hand, “but what made you so interested in Russian culture? ‘Miller’ is not a Russian name.”

 

She anticipated the question. “My grandparents’ last name on my mother’s side was Mikhaylova. My grandparents’ on my father’s: Petrov.”

 

This seemed to please him. “Maria Mikhaylova. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

 

“I guess so,” she giggled.

 

“Better than Maria Miller.”

 

“Hey, I like my name. My father’s a good man, he just has English blood. I try not to hold it against him.”

 

He laughed, “Fair. Anyway, go on please. You said you studied abroad in St. Petersburg last year?”

 

“Yes, last spring. It was wonderful. I had never been to Russia before. I had heard all these stories from my grandparents growing up, but had never been.” She felt more and more confident as she spoke. “I was fortunate enough to be assigned a great roommate. She was American, too.”

 

Orlov leaned forward. There was a sparkle in his eye. “Go on.”

 

“I’ve had some iffy roommates at UMon, so I was pretty nervous that I would be assigned some weird girl. But Sofia was awesome; we clicked instantly. She had also never been to Russia, even though her grandparents had immigrated from Moscow. She was a Russian major just like me, and she was a junior from Monroe State University. Even though she was the same age as me, I looked up to her… for some reason.”

 

“Why do you think that was?”

 

“Well, she seemed to know way more about Russian history and culture than I did. She spoke better Russian than me. And I’m a good student, don’t get me wrong.”

 

“Yes, I can see your GPA here,” he said, pointing to one of the papers on his desk. “3.95. Not bad.”

 

“Yes, but Sofia is brilliant. She’s so passionate. And she doesn’t take bullshit from anyone!”

 

Maria paused. Did I just curse during a fucking job interview? She felt her cheeks get rosy, and not from the warmth this time. “Sorry, I—I guess I can be passionate too.”

 

Orlov shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. But I am interviewing you, Ms. Miller. This Sofia was someone you looked up to. Smart and strong. No bullshit. Understood. But why are you here today?”

 

“Right. Of course. Well, she was the first person to tell me about Pirozhki & Kvass. She said she had interned here before her junior year.”

 

Orlov smiled wide, “There we go. Yes, I’m familiar with Sofia Stevenson. She was one of the best interns we’ve ever had here at P&K. And to think she came from Monroe State and not UMon.”

 

She laughed, “Yes, I try not to hold that against her.”

 

“Did you know that she’s a Smirnov on her maternal grandparents’ side? Sofia Smirnov. Sounds better than Stevenson,” he said as he shifted in his chair, leaned back and then leaned forward, as if he weren’t sure what position was more comfortable. His face contorted for a brief moment, shifting between what looked like intense focus and then pleasure. But he focused again.

 

“Do you think you have what Ms. Stevenson has, Ms. Miller?”

 

Maria leaned forward, “I’m not sure what you mean?”

 

He was staring at her intensely now. Even though the room was dimly lit, his blue eye seemed brighter than ever. After a brief pause, he asked, “Do you think you’re more Smirnov than Stevenson? More Mikhaylova than Miller?”

 

Here it is. She took a sip of water and said, “I do feel as if I’m more Russian than American at times, if that’s what you mean.”

 

“And do you have what Ms. Stevenson had, Ms. Miller?” He was leaning forward too.

 

“I’m not sure I understand.”

 

Orlov leaned back again. “Then I’m not sure we have anything additional to discuss.”

 

What Sofia had? “Mr. Orlov—Fyo. Please. I don’t understand the question. I want to work for P&K, I—”

 

Then she realized. She glanced towards her coat and whispered, “Yes, I have what Sofia had. Give me one second.”

 

She stood up and walked over to the coat rack. She rifled through the pockets until she stopped suddenly, pulled her hand out, and walked up to Orlov’s desk. While she was looking through her coat, he had sat back in the chair with his eye closed, a small smirk on his face. Now his blue eye opened once more, staring at her hand.

 

In her palm was a small red pin. Orlov grabbed it without asking and examined it closely. It featured a gold hammer and sickle surrounded by what could have been rubies. He turned it over a few times.

 

“And what did Ms. Stevenson tell you about this pin?” he asked.

 

“That I would need to present it to you to get the job. That a girl in her sorority had given it to her before she got her internship. That I should wait until my last semester to reach out to you.”

 

“I see.” Orlov placed the pin in his interior suit pocket and leaned back. “She must have seen something in you.”

 

“She told me I’d be a perfect fit for the job.”

 

Orlov adjusted his eye patch and leaned forward once more. “And did she tell you what the job is?”

 

She gulped and whispered, “Yes.”

 

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

 

“Yes, I know what the job is.” She took another sip from her glass.

 

“Good,” he grinned wide, revealing a perfect set of teeth framed by salt-and-pepper stubble. “Tell me, Ms. Miller, what is your cup size?”

 

She started coughing on the water. “Excuse me?” There were tears in her eyes.

 

“Are you wearing a thong?”

 

“Mr. Orlov!

 

“I told you to call me Fyo.”

 

She was still coughing. “Fyo, I don’t feel comf—”

 

“Let me stop you there,” he said, holding up a hand. He fiddled with his computer for a moment. Maria took the opportunity to catch her breath. After a few moments, he turned the screen around to face her.

 

She gasped. For a second she thought, How? Then she remembered.

 

On the screen, in vivid clarity, was a picture of Maria. Naked. She stood in her dorm room in St. Petersburg, smiling awkwardly at the camera, hands on her hips. Someone else had taken the photo. It was a full-body shot; every inch of her nudity was on display.

 

“A pretty picture indeed,” said Orlov, “would you like to see a different angle?”

 

“No—” she said, but he had already pressed a button on his keyboard. This time, Maria was bent over, ass towards the camera. She had never seen her body from this angle, all her most intimate parts in full view. She took a large sip of water, not realizing how thirsty she was, hand shaking.

 

“There are more, Ms. Miller. You know that. You knew what you were signing up for. Ms. Stevenson took these, didn’t she? She told you that was a requirement—non-negotiable—in order to get this job. For P&K to trust you.”

 

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

“Why?”

 

She looked into his deep blue eye. Did he really want her to say it? Out loud?

 

He said nothing.

 

She took another sip of water. Finally, she whispered, barely audible, “Because… because you want me to become… a Russian spy?”

 

He frowned, “I don’t like that word. I prefer ‘Asset’. Because you will become a great asset to the Motherland. A critical part of P&K’s operations. Yes, absolutely vital. You do want to serve the Motherland?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Good, very good,” he said. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow on the desk. “So, are you wearing a thong?”

 

“I still don’t—” she paused. She felt like the room was starting to spin.

“Ms. Miller, as a P&K Asset you will be asked to conduct certain operations that may make you feel uncomfortable. I see here that you’re the captain of your club soccer team?”

 

“Yeah,” she rested her forehead in her left hand, “wasn’t good enough for varsity.”

 

“Still impressive. You know, you have nice legs, Ms. Miller. A shame you’re wearing those tights, but I understand it’s cold outside. You won’t be going outside for a while, though.”

 

“What…?” The room was spinning fast now.

 

“I understand, Ms. Miller, that vowing to bring down the West is much easier to do in a St. Petersburg bar—after a few shots of vodka—than it is here in Monroe. But you made a vow nonetheless. You let Ms. Stevenson take these photos of you. You accepted the pin and brought it all the way back here. You handed it to me today. I’m afraid there’s no going back.”

 

“I don’ wanna go back,” she slumped backwards but tried to keep herself upright.

 

“At Pirozhki & Kvass we recognize that young women such as yourself may be passionate enough, patriotic enough, to commit to joining us. But we also recognize that some of the missions that we will send you on may make you hesitate… make you consider renouncing your vows.”

 

She could no longer hold herself upright. She was leaning all the way back on the couch, her head tilted up towards the ceiling.

 

“If we ask you to fuck a politician or blow an arms manufacturer, we need to be confident you will follow orders.”

 

“I don’t… under… understand,” she whispered. The amount of effort it took to say those words was immense.

 

Orlov shrugged, “Luckily, P&K has developed a proprietary technology that will ensure your compliance. I’ll admit that it involves a rather… invasive installation process. But that can’t be helped. We will make sure you are comfortable throughout the procedure.”

 

“Procedure?” she said, then, “I… go home…”

 

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Ms. Miller. I do have good news, though: you won’t remember any of this come Monday.”

 

Maria didn’t respond. Her empty water glass fell out of her hand and onto the couch. Her eyes were closed. In her attempts to stay awake she had uncrossed her legs, and, if Orlov squinted, he thought he could see up her dress.

 

The door to her left opened and two men walked in wheeling a gurney. “She’s out,” said Orlov.

 

One of the orderlies took her by the legs while the other grabbed her torso. She hung limply between them. She did not resist or make a sound as they lifted her onto the gurney.

 

“Make sure Dr. Popov gives her additional sedatives immediately,” said Orlov. “That drug in her drink will not keep her under long.”

 

“Yes sir,” said one of the orderlies. With that, they carefully wheeled Maria out of the room.

 

“What a pretty girl,” said Orlov, once the men had left. “And clever, too. Good head on her.” He leaned back in his chair. “Too bad we’ll have to meddle with that mind.”

 

While he reclined, his relaxed smile suddenly shifted into a face that looked to be somewhere between strong focus and pure pleasure. His brow furrowed and his mouth fell open. All of a sudden, his lower half started spasming as he moaned and gripped the arm rests. After a few moments he fell still again, and the smile returned to his face.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Stevenson, you may stop now.”

 

Her brown eyes, half open, stared up at him from underneath his desk.

 

He loved his job.

 

*****