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205 pages

English

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At the end of December 1922, Vladimir Lenin became the first Premier of The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Eleven men followed him in the following years, including perhaps the most famous - Joseph Stalin. On Christmas Day 1991, amidst great turbulence, the Soviet Union was dissolved and replaced by the Russian Federation. A generation has passed since the dissolution and it is being whispered that the age of the Premiers may be returning. The years following dissolution brought sweeping changes to Russia;many people throughout the world prayed that it would bring greater stability to a troubled planet.Beneath the surface however, there were still problems.In April 2007, there was a violent encounter in a small street leading from Red Square. Several years later, the past returns to haunt Luke Linden when he comes face to face with two of the characters he met on that brutal day in Moscow. It is against this unlikely backdrop that Luke finds himself being drawn to his former life. He then receives an offer that he simply can't refuse. The action moves from the football pitch to the stage of global politics, and there are high stakes involved. Wishton Clough are struggling to survive in the Premier League and the world is holding its breath as events in the Ukraine add to the warnings about the return of the Age of the Premiers. If Luke and his friends fail, relegation will be the least of their worries.

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Historical fiction

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Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	02 novembre 2018
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781785894688
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0150€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Premier Instinct
A. D. Rogers

Copyright © 2015 A. D. Rogers
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,
or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the
publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with
the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries
concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
Matador ®
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ISBN 9781785894688
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador ® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

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For our kids, Chris and Becky. They are a constant source of joy and pride. (And an equally constant strain on our rapidly-diminishing resources…!)
Contents

Cover

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

CHAPTER 58

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 61

EPILOGUE.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks again to the usual suspects. To Jane and Clare for the help with editing, Louise and Les for the feedback, and a big thanks to Paul Singleton for the hard work he put in again. I would also like to say a special thanks to the team at Matador – in particular, Rachel, Megan and Chelsea. They patiently deal with all my questions and solve my problems. Without their invaluable help, I would have been totally lost!
PROLOGUE
Moscow – April 2007
The early spring sunshine splashed softly across the domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral, making them sparkle and glow. It seemed implausible that an awe-inspiring monument could be found in such an improbable setting. At the far end of Red Square, two men gazed back toward the iconic building. The Cathedral of Vasily the Blessed was a dazzling jewel in a sea of concrete and dull, grey stone. James Trent had worked in Moscow for several months but never tired of this imposing view. His official title was Cultural Attaché at the British Embassy and his duties included babysitting certain visitors to Moscow as they explored the dangerous streets of the capital. A select number of people within the Embassy knew that his title was merely a useful cover – his real job was much more secretive. James glanced toward his companion, this was the point at which he would normally begin his “tourist” speech but he was hopeful he wouldn’t need his mental notes today.
His colleagues in the Embassy found it hard to get close to James. He seemed to love all things Russian, spoke the language perfectly and knew Moscow like the back of his hand. James blended in well with the Russian people and was a mine of useless information about all things Soviet but that was as much as they could ever get from him. He did his job without complaint, was polite and courteous but no-one could claim that James Trent was friendly. A few colleagues even remarked that there appeared to be a permanent air of sadness about him.
James had risen rapidly through the ranks of MI6. Dependable and confident, he had taken everything in his stride and looked to be heading for the top. Then came an assignment in Afghanistan which went badly wrong. No blame was attached to James but many people died during an operation against the Russian invaders. James was one of the casualties, hospitalised with shrapnel injuries. His current assignment in Moscow was part of his recuperation and on the surface he appeared to be recovering well. James still had a love for Russian culture and the Russian people but he now harboured a deep hatred for the Russian leadership and would do anything in his power to hurt them.
The current political climate in Moscow meant that visitors to the Embassy were strongly advised never to travel around the city alone. Most visitors were happy to be accompanied and this arrangement suited James. It meant that he could wander around the city without arousing suspicion – playing the part of a tour guide. In reality, he often used the trips to pick up information or to contact informants. Perhaps the only downside to the frequent trips was that sometimes he had to deal with people who had no real interest with Russia or its history. Some visitors would soon display indifference, their eyes glazing over with boredom but James had a hunch that he wouldn’t have that problem today.
His companion for the day was an IT contractor, Luke Linden. Luke had been working long hours in the bowels of the Embassy, locked away in the small computer room, and today he was taking a well-earned break. James had been introduced to Luke in the Embassy canteen and was surprised to find he wasn’t looking at a typical, pasty-faced, computer geek. Luke was a tall, powerfully built man with a confident air and cheerful smile. They chatted for a few minutes and James went through a few guidelines that would hopefully keep Luke safe during their excursion. Luke seemed happy to do whatever he was told and James was even more encouraged when he discovered that his new friend understood a little of the Russian language.
“My degree was Modern Languages.” Luke explained, “Old habits die hard, I always at least try to talk to the locals in their own language wherever I go.”
They had left the Embassy and moved amongst the crowds heading towards the centre of the city. Throughout the morning they passed in and out of the usual tourist sites and James was encouraged by Luke’s inquisitive outlook.
“This makes a refreshing change.” he finally admitted.
Luke smiled. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well normally I show people around who soon become bored but you actually appear to be interested.” James explained.
Luke chuckled. “I love to travel and I never turn down the opportunity of a free guided tour!”
The two men moved on and had lunch in a small restaurant not too far from the Kremlin, now they were stood in Red Square – looking towards St. Basil’s Cathedral.
“Please stop me if you know any of this.” James began, “Although most people know this as Saint Basil’s Cathedral or The Cathedral of Vasily the Blessed – the official name is the Cathedral of the Intercession of the Most Holy Theotokos on the Moat.”
“I definitely did not know that!” laughed Luke.
James smiled and continued. “It was built from 1555–61 on orders from Ivan the Terrible and was the city’s tallest building until the completion of the Great Bell Tower in 1600. The original building, known as Trinity Church and later Trinity Cathedral, contained eight side churches arranged around a central church. The tenth church was erected in 1588 over the grave of venerated local saint Vasily – “Basil”. The building is shaped to represent the flame of a bonfire rising into the sky. The church was confiscated from the Russian Orthodox community as part of the Soviet clampdown on organised religion and is now a museum.”
“It’s certainly very impressive.” Luke agreed. “If only these walls could talk.”
“These buildings will probably have witnessed many terrible things over the last few hundred years.” James admitted. “And perhaps the occasional happy event as well. Anyway, enough culture, it’s time for a break! Fancy a beer?”
Luke was surprised – it wasn’t long since they had finished lunch but he didn’t argue. “Sounds good to me.” he smiled.
James led them along the side of the Cathedral and into a small adjacent street. He had been stealthily pushing them towards this point – at this time, because he was hoping to brush past a contact in the narrow street. If all went well he was expecting to receive a small disc. The street was blocked to traffic so James and Luke strolled down the middle of the road, chatting as they walked. Beneath his seemingly calm exterior, James was constantly checking around for signs of danger. Everything seemed safe enough as he spotted his contact moving up the hill towards them. James stayed firmly in the middle of the road – if he moved towards the pavement that was the signal to abandon the drop. The men drew closer and then James appeared to stumble and the approaching man grabbed him to help him stay on his feet. They only touched for seconds, James thanked the man and they moved apart – then shouts rang out.
“Halt – stay where you are – you’re under arrest!”
Four men materialised from nowhere. Two had been working as street cleaners and the two others dived out from the front of a house. James knew that they weren’t police.
“Run!” he shouted.
James’s contact didn’t need telling twice and began to move away from the confrontation, with James and Luke close behind him. Suddenly the contact tripped on a loose kerbstone and went down in