Бесплатный фрагмент - Shadows of the Amber Room

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!

Prologue

April 2, 1946. Königsberg

It’s been almost a year since the fires stopped raging over the ruined, beautiful Prussian city, which had witnessed more than one era of various dynasties during its existence. The ancient Prussians, the Teutonic Order, invited by the Polish king to fight the pagans, a fiefdom of the Polish Kingdom, and then again, for several centuries, the Duchy of Prussia and the Kingdom of Prussia. And now Königsberg has once again changed hands: scarlet, flame-like Soviet flags flutter over the bastions and ruins, heralding the beginning of a new chapter in the history of this place.

Streets littered with rubble and construction debris wound everywhere. Proud Gothic stone structures rose above the waters of the small, babbling Pregolya River, which flows into the Gulf of Gdansk and thence to the Baltic Sea: vertical towers, high pointed arches, windows, and portals. However, all this splendor was subjected to the merciless (for peacetime) but entirely appropriate during wartime British bombing of 1944, when napalm bombs were used, and the city burned for days.

But Königsberg’s crown jewel was its Royal Castle, founded in 1255 by the Czech King Ottokar II Přemysl and located at the confluence of the two branches of the Pregel River. The structure combined a variety of architectural styles: Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, and Rococo. However, it now lay far from its former grandeur: once the tallest tower in the city, a neo-Gothic bell tower crowned with a huge clock and weather vane, now stood as a modest remnant on the southwest corner of the ruined and burnt-out castle.

Kuchumov, head of the government commission for the search for valuables stolen by the Nazis, was headed. He moved quickly along the broken pavement, looking around sadly. Unfortunately, what he saw now was everywhere where the Germans had occupied the city, and where fierce fighting had taken place.

Walking confidently up the hill, the man deftly fished his ID card from his jacket pocket and showed it to the guards on duty at the gate. They nodded quickly, put away their guns, and stepped aside, allowing such an important man to enter. However, even there, the sight that awaited him was no more remarkable than the one throughout the city: smoky black streaks from the raging fire spread across the beautiful stonework, and in place of the ornamental carved windows were gaping voids through which a dry, harsh wind blew, bringing with it the lingering aroma of ash.

After passing through a narrow tunnel, Anatoly Mikhailovich found himself at the foot of the then-famous “Blüdchericht” restaurant, or, as it was more popularly known, the “Bloody Court” — a huge stone barrel filled to the brim with smaller barrels and oval tables with carved oak chairs where patrons gathered. It was once a three-story building with a tiled roof and a long wooden balcony. At the entrance stood figures of ancient heroes, over which hung a menacing prison bolt and chains, while tall wax candles lined the walls. The building also boasted its own unique feature: a large hall adorned with a composition of five enormous wine barrels decorated with carvings of the cathedral and the coats of arms of Altstadt, Kneiphof, and Löbenicht. Even during the war, the city’s residents flocked here frequently, but the merciless bombing took its toll: the restaurant and the famous “Muscovite Hall” located above it — where the coronation banquet of the first Prussian king, Frederick I, took place, and where Peter the Great also stayed, hence the name — were destroyed. Before the war, it housed artifacts of the Prussian army’s glory: cannons, cannonballs, spears, and rifles. Now, a hole in the ceiling, the result of several direct hits, occupied the site.

Entering the basement, which had survived better than the other rooms, Kuchumov winced at the stench of stench and ash. He sat down at a table across from Feyerabend, the restaurant’s director, who was now staring into space in a dejected mood. His expression made it clear he was visibly nervous.

— Guten Tag Mr. Feyerabend”- Anatoly greeted him, putting sheets of paper and pens from his bag on the table for writing.

However, the German didn’t react to this, much to the Soviet leader’s surprise. He clearly didn’t want to talk; repeated interrogations had already worn him down.

“We’ll see how many restaurants we have,” Kuchumov continued the dialogue with him, looking closely at his notes.

“Yes,” Feyerabend said briefly and indifferently.

— Gut. Sagen Sie uns, wo das Bernsteinzimmer aufbewahrt wurde.

The German finally looked around with a more lively gaze, scanning the MGB officers surrounding him, standing nearby in their beautiful black woolen jackets and red caps.

— Im Schlossmuseum befand sich das Deutsche Bernsteinzimmer. Nach der Bombardierung Königsbergs im August 1944 wurde das Bernsteinzimmer sofort eingepackt und in den Ordenssaal über dem Restaurant verlegt. Der in zahlreiche Kisten verpackte Raum blieb dort, bis der Angriff auf Königsberg begann.

Kuchumov never lifted his pen from the paper. He carefully and thoughtfully wrote down every word, so as not to miss even a scrap of relevant information.

“Weitermachen,” he said, making a characteristic gesture with his hand.

— Ende März 1945 be Suchte Gauleiter Koch das Schloss. Koch tadelte Dr. Rohde scharf dafür, dass er das bis dahin überfüllte Bernsteinzimmer im Schloss zurückgelassen hatte. Koch wollte für eine sofortige Entfernung sorgen, doch die brutale Kampfsituation ließ eine Entfernung nicht mehr zu. Der überfüllte Saal blieb im Ordenssaal stehen… Ab dem Nachmittag des 9. April 1945 hatte ein von Gauleiter Koch ernannter Kommandant die Leitung des Schlosses inne, der jedoch unerwartet verschwand.

— Wo warst du in diesem Moment? — Anatoly tried to find out the details from him.

— Ich war in einem Weinkeller. In Absprache mit einigen Offizieren hängte ich als Zeichen der Kapitulation weiße Fahnen im Nord- und Südflügel des Schlosses auf. Nachts um 11.30 Uhr kam ein russischer Oberst, der, nachdem ich ihm alles gezeigt und erklärt hatte, die Anweisung gab, zu gehen. Als ich nachts um 12.30 Uhr die Burg verließ, war das Restaurant nur von einer Artillerieeinheit besetzt. Der Keller und die Ordenshalle blieben völlig unbeschädigt.

— Was ist danach mit den Panels passiert? — Anatoly tensed up, pressing himself into the back of his chair.

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, his breathing became ragged. He waited with every fiber of his being for what he would say next, and every second of delay ate him up inside.

— I weiß es nothing, nothing habe sie nie wieder gesehen”- the German answered indifferently, shrugging his shoulders and making a grimace on his face.

— Was ist mit dem Oberst, wer ist er?

— I habe keine Ahnung”, — he spread his handcuffed hands.

Hearing this, Kuchumov jumped up from his seat in irritation and began walking in circles around the room, causing his colleagues to look surprised.

— Du must es nothing versuchen”- the restaurant director suddenly spoke up, leaving Anatoly slightly stunned.

“Was?” he asked again, thinking he had misheard.

— Du wirst sie sowieso nie finden”- the German smiled happily, falling silent again and staring somewhere at the wall.

Chapter 1

Present Day. Tsarskoye Selo

The soft, warm light of the June sun gently touched the green crowns of the trees. These early, first harbingers of summer pleasantly warmed the soul, heralding the arrival of such a long-awaited and beloved time of year. In the distance, birds chirped joyfully, singing their guttural, contented songs deep in the Catherine Park, built on the site of the Swedish magnate’s estate, Sarskaya Manor, after the expulsion of the Scandinavians from these lands. However, during the palace’s reconstruction by architect Rastrelli in the 1750s, a veritable natural complex, divided into zones, was created here. The “Hermitage,” “Grotto,” and “Hall on the Island” pavilions were built in the middle of the Great Pond for the pleasure gatherings of a select circle of courtiers. At the same time, the garden’s territory was expanded, with the Lower Ponds becoming its southern boundary. To give the garden its proper splendor, statues were moved there. It was they who, after a long winter hibernation, now decorated the long and perfectly straight alleys in the French style among the bushes trimmed into geometric shapes.

A young couple was strolling along such paths right now. A year ago, they had discovered the famous and long-lost Libereya: Ivan the Terrible’s library, lost centuries ago and the subject of centuries of legend. And now, finally, all the myths had been debunked; it had been found. Now, with the spotlights over their heads dimming and their blood, heated by childish excitement, having cooled a bit, the young man and woman had traveled from Moscow to St. Petersburg to see the local sights they had long wanted to visit. However, they had no idea what surprise fate would in store for them in this endeavor.

“How beautiful,” Svetlana whispered, looking around.

“Yes, the empresses used to build on a truly grand scale,” Valery agreed with her, gazing into the distance, where the bluish façade of the palace, covered in golden decorations, peeked out from behind the edge of the trees.

Together, they turned onto Hermitage Alley, finding themselves between square, greenish ponds, stopping precisely in the center of this entire flourishing complex. The enormous bulk of the Grand Palace was immediately apparent. Moreover, the symmetrical axial system of the palace façade’s projections corresponded and harmonized with the main spatial coordinates of the park’s plan. Slightly to the left, the Cameron Gallery was visible — a two-story structure that forms part of the ensemble of the Cold Baths, the Agate Pavilion, the Hanging Garden, and the Ramp. The lower floor served as the base for the second-tier colonnade, consisting of forty-four white fluted columns with Ionic capitals. Ancient Greek, Roman, and Etruscan styles, with the use of Pompeian motifs, were clearly visible here. All of this intertwined in dialectic and historical eclecticism, creating an incredibly beautiful composition.

“Yes, Rastrelli and Cameron did a great job,” Vinogradov declared, proudly examining this work of architectural art.

“You can say that,” Verbova confirmed his words, frozen in delight for a second.

“Okay, let’s move on, our tour starts in a minute,” said the young man, pulling back the lapel of his light, light blue summer jacket and looking at the quickly running metal hand of the mechanical watch across the brown, translucent dial, which revealed the interior of some of its gears to its owner.

“Let’s go,” the girl answered, hugging her beloved by the shoulders and heading towards the entrance.

Together, they found themselves inside a small vestibule, crowded with people waving their printed tickets. They were all chattering so loudly that it was difficult to make out anything coherent. And, of course, it couldn’t compare to the peace and quiet that the park provided. Suddenly, a woman with a microphone appeared from around the corner, her arms outstretched. Valery immediately realized it was most likely the tour guide, so he gestured to Svetlana and put on his headphones, tuning the radio provided at the entrance to the designated frequency.

“Good afternoon, dear guests, we are starting our tour. My name is Maria, please follow me,” the voice from the device said, confirming his assumptions.

The woman immediately turned around, rushing somewhere further down the aisle, and a crowd of people immediately followed her.

“We are pleased to welcome you to the Catherine Palace, or, as it was formerly known, the Grand Tsarskoye Selo Palace,” she continued. “You may take photographs, but please do not use flash.” The palace itself was founded in 1717 under the direction of the German architect Johann Friedrich Braunstein as a summer residence for Empress Catherine I. According to the original design, the palace was a small, two-story, Dutch-style structure with sixteen rooms, typical of Russian architecture of the early 18th century. In May 1752, Elizabeth Petrovna commissioned the architect Bartolomeo Francesco Rastrelli to rebuild the palace. Today, this masterpiece can be considered the most striking example of Russian Baroque.

“Why is it so boring? We already know that,” Valery whispered, making a dissatisfied face.

“Then why did we even take the tour if you already know everything? Shut up and listen,” Svetlana hissed discontentedly, gently nudging him in the back to follow the procession.

At the same time, the tour group had already climbed the Grand Staircase, decorated on both sides with marble amphoras, to the second floor, continuing to examine the variously beautiful halls that replaced each other in a diverse and luxurious kaleidoscope.

“These, as we now call them, Exhibition Rooms, used to house the pantry, where the palace silverware, linens, and tableware for setting the tables were stored,” Maria explained, gesturing toward the gilded, red-upholstered folding chairs standing against the walls, intended for Elizabeth Petrovna. “You can also see a model of the palace here.”

The tour then moved on to the next room, which turned out to be the famous Great Hall, now flooded with sunlight through the huge windows that ran the entire length of the room.

The Great Hall, or the Bright Gallery as it was called in the 18th century, is the palace’s largest formal room, designed by the architect F. Rastrelli between 1752 and 1756. This ornate hall, measuring over eight hundred square feet, was intended for official receptions and celebrations, gala dinners, balls, and masquerades. The end walls, adorned with multi-figure compositions, boast particularly lavish carved decoration. Let’s pause for a moment so you can admire all this splendor in more detail.

The entire group, as if just awaiting the command, immediately dispersed, taking photographs of each other and examining the ornaments and the amazing ceiling lamps above their heads. Valery and Svetlana, meanwhile, rushed to the windows, which offered a marvelous view of both sides of the garden. It felt as if balls here had once been incredible.

“Well then, let’s move on, there are more halls and dining rooms waiting for us,” Maria continued, as if in a hurry to finish the tour as soon as possible.

At that moment, everyone rushed after her, which was exactly what Vinogradov wanted to do, but he stopped abruptly, noticing the strange gaze of a short, dark-skinned man in the corner of the room. He looked rather suspicious: he was wearing a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket over it, the kind of jacket that in this heat would only be suitable for a sauna, not for strolling through a sun-drenched park or wandering around a stuffy building. His bald head glinted in the light from the wall lamps, but most importantly, his face. A burn-like mark extended from his lip toward his cheek. His entire appearance was unattractive, and that made it even more intimidating that it was Valery who had caught his attention.

Noticing the treasure hunter’s surprised gaze, the stranger immediately turned around and followed the tour.

“What is it?” Svetlana asked in surprise, noticing the thoughtful expression on her boyfriend’s face and embarrassed by his hesitation.

“That man,” Vinogradov replied, nodding toward the man walking off into the distance. “I don’t know why, but I don’t like him. He was looking at us strangely.”

“Maybe you imagined it?” Verbova said, also tensing up, trusting the instincts of her previous work in the security service.

“I don’t know, maybe, but deep down I feel that something is wrong,” Valery objected, shaking his head.

“Okay, we’ll keep an eye on him, let’s go, the tour has already moved on,” Svetlana encouraged him, putting her hand on his shoulder, after which they headed off together after the others.

Chapter 2

Realizing something was fishy here and they needed to be careful, Valery and Svetlana followed the escaping tour group. Together, they quickly darted into the Antechambers, finding themselves in a hall with towering shelves, entirely covered in gilded ornamentation. The portals were especially adorned with lush sculptures, cartouches, and garlands.

And of course, additional decorations in the decor of the lush Baroque interior were the ceilings with huge painted lampshades and geometric patterns of parquet made of precious wood.

“This marvelous hall is the first room guests would enter upon arriving in Tsarskoye Selo in the 18th century,” Maria continued. “These rooms received their name because they were located before the Great Hall and were intended for waiting for receptions and the empress’s appearance. And if you look up, you’ll see that the ceiling paintings are dedicated to classical mythology: in the First and Second Antechambers, it’s ‘The Triumph of Bacchus and Ariadne,’ and in the Third, ‘Olympus.’”

However, these words didn’t particularly interest Valery right now. He kept a close eye on the suspicious man, who, it seemed to him, as soon as he realized he’d been noticed, immediately moved with the crowd, showing absolutely no signs of strangeness.

“Maybe it just seemed that way,” flashed through Vinogradov’s mind.

“Now let’s go back and go to Malinovaya Stolovaya,” the guide declared, abruptly leading the group in the opposite direction.

The suspicious man immediately appeared within the crowd, looking at Valery, making him nervous again, and then slipped inside and vanished from sight. The treasure hunter immediately rushed to intercept him, causing Svetlana’s silent surprise, but the tour departed in the opposite direction, and the man vanished into thin air.

“Where did he go?” Vinogradov asked, looking around in confusion.

“I don’t know, he was just here,” Verbova answered, also puzzled by his sudden disappearance.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong, but he’s looking at me and smiling, something’s wrong here,” the man said in a slightly trembling voice.

“Calm down, we’ll figure it all out. It could be an accident. Let’s go on a tour,” the girl tried to reassure him, putting her arm around his shoulders.

“Maybe you’re right,” Valery agreed with her, breathing heavily, after which they headed together after the group that had once again departed.

They quickly caught up with the tour group, who were already exploring the Portrait Hall. On the walls, covered in white patterned damask framed by gilded carvings, hung large formal portraits of Catherine I and Elizabeth Petrovna, as well as a portrait of Grand Duchess Natalia Alexeyevna by an unknown 18th-century artist.

“The Portrait Hall of the Catherine Palace, decorated according to Rastrelli’s designs, has long displayed ceremonial portraits of royal figures,” Maria recounted dryly, already bored with her own tour. “This room was completely destroyed during the war, and the interior was recreated from photographs and surviving fragments of decoration.”

But what most captivated Valery and Svetlana was the stunning three-tiered fireplace, rising from the floor to the ceiling, divided by small, narrow columns and crowned with small, symmetrical amphorae. It was crafted from stunning tiles and slabs in a blue and white palette, evoking the famous Gzhel style — a traditional Russian form of folk painting on ceramics. This masterpiece of domestic art was sure to impress against the backdrop of a plethora of gilded patterns and furniture legs.

“Well, now that you’ve seen a lot,” the guide declared, “the jewel of this palace. The reason many come here from abroad. One of the unspoken wonders of the world. The famous Amber Room! Come along.”

Everyone immediately rushed forward like mad, hoping to catch a glimpse of the world-famous room as quickly as possible. They seemed completely indifferent to their surroundings. The main thing was this goal. Valery was somewhat taken aback by this behavior, so he froze in place, waiting for everyone to rush past, clearing the way. Meanwhile, he hoped to catch another glimpse of the suspicious man, but to his great surprise, he was nowhere to be found. Realizing the danger had passed, and breathing a sigh of relief, the couple continued into the next room.

Their gaze immediately fell upon the very Amber Room — a medium-sized room, the walls covered in patterned tiles of orange-gold amber. They formed beautiful, varied ornaments in the form of gilded figures and frames, framing the miniatures embedded within. Nearby stood a beautiful clock on a tall stand. All of this formed an absolutely wonderful and astonishing interconnected composition, inseparable from each other by its elements, bound together in a shared, inseparable harmony that could be felt somewhere deep within and seen with the naked eye.

“This is certainly worth seeing,” Svetlana whispered enthusiastically, her breath catching.

“You can take photos, but please turn off the flash first,” Maria warned everyone, giving them the opportunity to enjoy the masterpiece.

At that moment, Valery felt someone suddenly grab him by the shoulder. His body tensed to the limit, every cell sensing danger. Vinogradov quickly turned around, throwing off the “whip” that had suddenly been placed on him, and then saw the same bald, suspicious man standing before him.

“Valery, I apologize for disturbing you. Mine needs to talk to you,” the stranger stated.

Chapter 3

Valery looked at him in amazement. He couldn’t even guess what exactly this man wanted from him, or why he spoke with such a strange accent. His veins tensed even more. His breathing quickened, and a surge of panic caused his heart to beat three times faster, sinking into his heels.

“The Amber Room was created in the early 18th century, designed by architect Andreas Schlüter for the new palace of the Prussian King Friedrich I in Berlin. Initially, it was smaller — it became more of an Amber Cabinet. However, the panels were not fully assembled, as Friedrich I died in 1713, and his successor, Friedrich Wilhelm I, had no need for this masterpiece. He, however, desperately needed an alliance with Russia in the war against Sweden, and in November 1716, during a meeting with Peter the Great, Friedrich Wilhelm, knowing that the Russian Tsar was interested in the Amber Room, presented it as a political gift, much to Peter’s delight,” Maria continued, speaking from somewhere in the distance.

At the same time, Svetlana immediately approached Valery to understand what exactly this strange man wanted from them.

— Please excuse me for my “invasion,” he continued in broken Russian. “My name is Paul, I came from Germany as soon as I found out that you had found Liberia.”

Hearing this, Valery raised his eyebrows, calming down a little and being a little surprised.

“Okay, so what do you want?” the treasure hunter didn’t believe such a strange and absurd beginning.

“I’ve long since studied this relic. I must say, I’m very impressed by the find,” the German continued his line of flattery, like a steam locomotive whose firebox was being reloaded with coal, still racing along the straight rails without stopping.

“That’s all wonderful. But I’m afraid you didn’t hear me. What do you want?” Vinogradov stood his ground, refusing to give in to the cunning foreigner’s wiles.

“By the way,” Svetlana interjected, “I’m a former federal service employee, so I advise you not to beat around the bush, otherwise you might have problems with my connections!”

— Gut. You ‘ve won. Let’s get straight to business. You know where we are, right?

“Naturally,” Valery interrupted him.

— Do you know that this is not a real room?

“Of course. What are you getting at?” Verbova couldn’t stand his leading questions.

Paul shook his head disapprovingly. He’d clearly expected the conversation to proceed more gently, and for his ideas to be met with less hostility. Then the German decided to move from words to action and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. Noticing this, Svetlana immediately pulled her boyfriend back, sensing something was wrong.

“Calm down,” the foreigner cooled her impulse. — Yes istdocument. That’s all.

After this, he pulled out a small package, packed in a folded file, and then carefully unfolded the paper, handing it to Valery.

— Take it, have a look.

Shaking his head disapprovingly and meeting the girl’s distrustful gaze, Vinogradov nevertheless picked up the unknown object, deciding to examine it immediately. It was an ordinary, worn piece of paper, considerably darkened and faded by the years. On it, in neat calligraphic handwriting, but with the ink so warped that it was difficult to decipher, was some kind of text.

“What is this?” Valery asked him. “I don’t know German.”

— These are the notes of my grandfather, who served in the guard of the Royal Castle in Königsberg. On the night of March 10, 1945, a gang of criminals in militar The forme drove up to the castle in a truck. They presented falsethe document was guarded and the museum was robbed, where one of the divided “Parts of the Amber Room. Seven boxes of valuable and especially valuable exhibits were removed, four of which, judging by the documents I have, contained some of the items from the Amber Room,” Paul proudly told them.

Upon hearing this, Valery and Svetlana immediately exchanged glances. Now they both understood why the German had started talking to them, and especially why he had mentioned the discovery of Liberea.

“So, you’re saying you know where the Amber Room was taken?” Vinogradov asked him in a slightly trembling voice.

— No, but I know where we can start looking. Let’s go from here to somewhere less crowded. This Ausflug”, ” he replied, pointing at the sleepy Maria, “it has probably already finished me off, as it has finished you off.”

Looking at each other, quite interested in what was happening, the couple nodded, after which they followed the departing foreigner.

Chapter 4

The newly minted trio moved quickly through the palace’s rooms toward the exit, passing through the same rooms they had just toured. Unlike the large crowds that had prevented them from admiring this architectural masterpiece, now they wanted to stop and linger at each exhibit, each wall, and examine the astonishing and wondrous designs, difficult to imagine being carved with the technology of the time. Truly great masters!

“So you think the room is in Kaliningrad?” Valery asked, catching up with Paul on the main staircase.

He had already begun to walk quickly down the steps, confidently looking at the street door straight ahead.

“Oh, no, not at all. The room was divided into several parts. And I know where to start looking for one of them,” the German objected, shaking his head. “But yes, the starting point will be Königsberg.”

At that moment, the man reached the door and pulled the handle, but it turned out to be treacherously locked, only making a long and somewhat sad clanking sound and slamming the locked lock inside the keyhole.

“Der Arsch, it’s closed!” he said indignantly, lightly kicking her with the toe of his boot.

“What’s the problem? Let’s get out where we came in!” Svetlana suggested.

“No, they won’t let us out without a tour. We need another way out,” Paul objected.

He pulled a small, needle-like stick from his pocket, then deftly snapped it in half and inserted it into the keyhole at an angle, from both ends. Then followed a quick movement of his fingers, as if searching for the correct position for the lever, followed by a sharp click. The German smiled smugly and tucked his tools away, turning the handle. The door opened welcomingly, as if inviting the guests outside.

— Voila. How do you say it in Russland? Welcome to our hut?

“Exactly,” Valery agreed with him, walking into the park through the cleared passage.

Svetlana, meanwhile, stood still, staring intently at her new acquaintance, as if trying to divine his hidden motives. Her profession allowed her to see right through people, and deep down, she sensed a trick. It seemed the German was far more perceptive. His subsequent train of thought was completely unclear. This wasn’t a straightforward, even path consisting of a few steps. It was a complex structure, like a tree that spreads endlessly from a single trunk in all directions, with thousands of branches and leaves. If you cut one off, you can always return to the starting point and grow in the opposite direction. In short, Paul evoked a sense of slipperiness, evasiveness, and foul play.

“Whoever taught you this craft was clearly no ordinary person,” Svetlana stated, continuing to glare at him.

“Definitely. But let’s not talk about that. Valery is already waiting for us. Ladies first,” the other man replied, gesturing toward the door and bowing slightly, like a gentleman.

Verbova merely nodded silently and, even more tense, walked out into the street. Vinogradov was already waiting for her there, his gaze fixed on the subject of their conversation.

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a whisper so that their companion wouldn’t hear.

“Yes, but I can’t understand what, I don’t like all of this,” the girl answered him quietly.

“We’ll be on guard,” Valery said, turning his attention to Paul, who was beginning to suspect something.

— Well? Shall we go further? — he asked, coming closer.

“Yes,” the treasure hunter agreed with him.

Together, they moved with more confidence toward the Cameron Gallery, the proud, almost Athenian Parthenon towering over one of the square ponds. The midday sun had confidently passed its zenith and was now moving tangentially westward, its rays cutting through the astonishing light columns, which cast their shadows on the green lawn. Together, they ascended the wide, pompous staircase, finding themselves on an observation deck, along whose entire length busts of Greek and Roman luminaries were displayed.

“Look,” Paul continued his story. “The gang leader, Klaus Steffmann, and two of his accomplices were killed during the raid, and the other perpetrators of the crime have not been identified. However, the police reported that two possible safe houses in Königsberg, where the stolen goods could have been hidden, could not be inspected due to the collapse of the buildings. I cannot rule out the possibility that these boxes of valuables could still be hidden in the same buildings. This is the building on Steinstrasse, which was hit by an aerial bomb in April 1945, and the building on Schulzstrasse. However, these gebäude are now destroyed, making the search impossible. Therefore, we should also inspect the “Rode bunker’, where they could have hidden their main treasures. Shortly after Rode demonstratedthe bunker’s contents to your Bryusov, he died under unclear circumstances. Suspicious, isn’t it?

“So, you’re assuming that’s where the bandits hid the stolen part of the room?” asked Valery, the man he was interested in.

“Perhaps. I would start my search from there,” the German replied.

At that moment, three strangers came out to meet them, completely blocking the exit. Seeing them from afar, Paul immediately stopped dead in his tracks, turning slightly pale, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Did something happen?” Svetlana asked him.

“Scheisse! They found you!” the interlocutor exclaimed, starting to back away.

“Who?” Vinogradov said in surprise.

“I’m not the only one looking for this treasure, Valery. And I’m not the only one who needs you to help me find it. I’m afraid they’re much more terrible people who won’t ask nicely. Let’s run!”

The German immediately turned around and ran in the opposite direction. The couple could only look back, realizing he had flown away from them at the speed of light, while the three strangers were rushing straight towards them.

Chapter 5

Seeing the newly minted trio rushing straight towards them, Valery froze in place, completely unsure what to do next. Svetlana experienced the same effect, but her sense of self-preservation kicked in at just the right moment. She quickly recovered from the shock, grabbing Vinogradov by the sleeve of his jacket.

“Let’s run, quickly!” she shouted, pulling her beloved along with her.

But the man continued to stand rooted to the spot, silently watching the crowd rushing toward them. The distance was rapidly closing with every second. There was absolutely no time to think.

— Valery! — came the cry of the one running in the center.

“Valera, please don’t stand there!” Verbova yelled at him from the other side, trying with all her might to pull him along.

The last words had a more profound effect on him, and, to the girl’s great relief, the treasure hunter finally moved forward. The pair turned and ran as fast as they could out of the gallery toward the stairs leading to the park. They had no idea what might await them next, but their legs carried them at incredible speed, trying to save them from the imminent danger.

Faster than the wind, they flew down the marble steps, rushing deep into the green mass along neatly laid out paths. Valery and Svetlana ran past the square ponds along their Big Pond, located to their right, and headed toward the Grotto Pavilion along the shoreline.

This no less important architectural monument of Tsarskoye Selo was, like almost everything else here, designed by Rastrelli. It was a tripartite composition consisting of a central hall and two symmetrically adjoining halls in the Baroque style, characterized by rounded corners, niches for statues and vases made of colored stone, and semicircular exedrae forming projections on the end facades. From afar, ornate iron grilles with gilded copper ornamentation were visible. This is precisely where the lovers were heading, hoping to cover their tracks somewhere. But Paul, who had led them into this trap, treacherously vanished.

At the same time, the pursuers descended the stairs and slowed down, watching the fugitives.

— Gehen Sie auf beiden Seiten um sie herum, klemmen Sie sie mit einer Zange fest, und ich werde mit einem Keil in der Middle vorgehen”- said the leader, a tall, blond man whose head was beginning to turn gray, but whose face at the same time only betrayed his age in places with barely noticeable wrinkles.

His comrades nodded silently and immediately dispersed, while he continued walking right on Valery and Svetlana’s heels. Suddenly, he began limping, forcing him to stop.

— Scheiße, knie”- the man hissed discontentedly, rubbing his sore joint.

After waiting for about a minute and collecting his thoughts, the leader continued moving, having already lost sight of the couple.

Vinogradov and Verbova, opening the first door they came to, slipped inside, after first looking around and realizing their pursuers had fallen behind. Their eyes were immediately struck by the abundance of gold and baroque, now familiar to Tsarskoye Selo, spilling out of every corner, which made it an even more significant calling card of this unusual place. To the side was the dining room, where all the necessary utensils were set out, as if the empress were about to arrive for dinner. In the center, a huge white statue stood, holding a scroll in her right hand. Her menacing gaze seemed to regard those present with disapproval, involuntarily evoking the feeling of a living presence in the room. However, this sculpture held little interest for Valery at the moment, as he hunched over and approached one of the windows, glancing around, hoping to see where their pursuers had gone. And, to both great good fortune and misfortune, he spotted them entering in a semicircle toward the building.

“Duck!” the treasure hunter hissed at the girl, forcibly pushing her to the floor.

Together, they immediately rushed toward the statue, hiding behind its enormous silhouette, just in time. All three shuffled inside, looking around.

— Schauen Sie sich hier alles an, und ich schaue dort drüben beginning”- the leader declared to them, making several rotating movements with his hands, after which he rushed in the indicated direction.

His charges immediately began wandering around the corners, examining every nook and cranny. Valery and Svetlana held their breath. They hadn’t been this scared in a long time, and the fear stemmed not from the threats of these strangers, but from the uncertainty of their motives. What did they want? It all remained a mystery.

At that moment, Vinogradov felt someone grab his hand, and, almost screaming in surprise, he turned around sharply.

Chapter 6

Valery felt someone grab his arm, and his heart sank. He couldn’t believe they’d been found so quickly, and he certainly didn’t understand what was coming next. An unpleasant chill ran down his spine, a sensation unlike anything else except a mountain of ice being dumped down his collar, immediately beginning to melt unpleasantly, chilling him with its icy dampness.

However, turning around and nearly screaming, Vinogradov saw a completely different picture than he had imagined a moment ago. Right in front of them, squatting, was the previously missing Paul, smiling cheerfully.

“I found you, Valery,” he said joyfully, continuing to grin suspiciously.

Vinogradov once again had doubts about the nature of this reaction, but right now was completely unimportant. He needed to get out of here, and the sooner the better.

“How did you end up here?” Svetlana whispered, sharing her suspicions with the young man.

— I tried to escape from these terrible people. And then I walked, and oh Wundernoticed you. Then he saw that they were surrounding you, so he decided to help.

“We don’t need your help,” Verbova objected menacingly, shaking her head.

— I glaube nothing, I doubt that this will work. Moreover, it is completely “You don’t know who they are and what they want,” Paul snapped, realizing that he had an ace up his sleeve, which he needed to take out right now and lay out on the playing table with the rest of the cards before it was too late.

Valery immediately looked at the girl. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. On the one hand, he didn’t want to trust a strange and unfamiliar German. But on the other, it seemed to him there was simply no other way out, especially since Paul possessed invaluable information about the possible location of the Amber Room and a unique document from that period, and Vinogradov, deep down, and secretly from Verbova, had long been considering the possibility of starting a search for her. That’s why he’d brought her here, to Tsarskoye Selo, to be inspired by the atmosphere and finally decide to take this difficult step. And then, a surprise, a gift from fate! Everything had come his way; all that was left was to hook this fish and pull it out of the water!

“Okay, lead the way,” Valery agreed with the opportunity, his heart heavy.

“I knew you would n’t reject me,” Paul whispered joyfully, looking out from behind the sculpture and surveying the area.

There he saw the same strangers circling, examining every nook and cranny, confidently approaching the statue. Time for decisive action was running out. As luck would have it, there wasn’t a single other visitor in the Grotto, so there was simply no chance of blending in. Meanwhile, Svetlana looked at Valery disapprovingly, shaking her head. She had absolutely no intention of trusting the German, but Vinogradov placed his hand on her knee, looking calmly into her eyes.

“We have no other choice, unfortunately, that’s the way it is,” he whispered, trying to somehow calm the girl down.

The enemy was getting closer with every second, leaving fewer and fewer options for escape. The statue of Empress Catherine II in the form of the goddess Minerva, which had granted them temporary shelter with her wisdom, couldn’t hide them forever. Turning around, the German realized they were standing near the exit. The only thing separating them from it was the carved metal gate. So close, yet so far away at the same time. However, to enter the street, all they had to do was pull back a small bolt, but that would take a few extra seconds.

Having collected his thoughts, Paul took a small canister of asthma medication out of his pocket, sprayed the life-saving substance into his mouth, and then threw it with all his might against the wall in the opposite corner of the room, causing everyone to turn around in surprise.

— Alle “Yes, schnell!” the leader shouted to them, running, slightly holding his sore leg, rushing towards the source of the sound.

Realizing there was no time to waste, his men immediately darted in that direction, abandoning the nearly completely searched room halfway. Meanwhile, the German had been waiting for just this opportunity. He leaped up briskly, doubled over, and leaped toward the bars, pulling the bolt toward him. However, it treacherously refused to budge, beginning to creak horribly as it barely moved.

— Ah komm schon, – he hissed through his teeth.

the gate as leverage. Surprisingly, this maneuver worked. The bolt began to move significantly faster, but the creaking was unbearable.

At the same time, the leader reached the opposite corner of the room, finding an inhaler bent from its fall on the floor and immediately realizing what was happening. His charges had just caught up with him, and the creaking of the grate was heard from behind.

— Dieser Fuchs hat uns ausgetrickst- He whispered fiercely, squeezing the canister in his palm with force, crushing it like a tin can.

Chapter 7

With a chilling creak, the gate swung open, allowing the newly formed trio to squeeze into the sheltering natural surroundings. A gentle, caressing ray of sunlight shone directly on their faces, and a light breeze from the large pond pleasantly cooled their hair. However, they had no time to indulge in these magnificent and enchanting feelings that make you forget everything else in summer and simply stand and enjoy the scenery. They had to run, and as quickly as possible.

As soon as Svetlana was the last one to emerge from the Grotto, Paul slammed the gate behind her. He then walked over to a nearby crate of gardening supplies and knocked it over with a loud bang, sending up a cloud of dust from the path and barricading the exit. And just in time. From the opposite side, a mysterious stranger and two of his men ran up to the grating, clutching the carved metal with their hands, trying to force it back. However, the hastily constructed barrier successfully held the gate shut, preventing it from swinging more than a few inches. He then glared furiously at the group, as if expressing his deepest hatred and dislike. He strained so hard that his eyes turned red and seemed about to burst from the strain.

— We will find you, Valery. Zweifle nothing” — the chief hissed, squeezing the bars until his knuckles turned white.

“Yes, please, I don’t even know who you are,” Vinogradov objected.

“Bypass! Laufen!” the man shouted to his subordinates standing next to him.

They looked at each other, nodded silently and immediately rushed to carry out their boss’s orders.

“I think we need to run too,” Paul urged the clearly stalled couple.

“Yes, let’s get out of here quickly,” Svetlana agreed with him.

Together, they immediately set off as quickly as possible toward the thicket, hoping that nature would help them lose themselves in its verdant foliage. The group raced at breakneck speed, constantly turning and weaving like hares, with no intention of stopping for a second. Right now, that was the best course of action, and confusing the enemy and leading him down a false trail was even wiser. Together, they ran along the neatly trimmed bushes that formed smooth paths, stopping in a small area.

Right before their eyes, a park pavilion, one of the so-called hermitages, came into view. Of course, like virtually all the architectural complexes here, it was a striking example of the Baroque: a figured octagonal building with adjoining structures on either side, composed entirely of golden carved patterns and columns against a bluish background. It was crowned with a semicircular dome in the Roman style, leaving the imprint of the Italian architect. The pavilion stood on an artificial island paved with black and white marble slabs and had once been surrounded by water on all sides and fenced with a balustrade adorned with statues and vases. Access to the island was only possible via drawbridges over a moat, but the moat had long since dried up, and the bridges had been replaced with heavy-duty ones, leaving only a trace of the former, rather interesting and unusual design for the entire park.

But right now, such a building held little interest for the trio, as it was far too conspicuous at a time when their primary objective was to hide from their pursuers. So, without a second thought, they immediately turned into the nearest bushes, hunched over and frozen in place, barely breathing. The seconds of waiting seemed like an eternity, dragging on agonizingly, invariably fraying their nerves, but right now, they needed to keep a cool head. The Germans would catch up with them one way or another; the main thing was to remain discreet and misdirect them. But that required patience, and patience is a very difficult quality to master in a situation where nerves are on edge and adrenaline is surging through your veins.

And now, the moment of truth. The three strangers run around the corner into the square and stop, looking around in disbelief. Valery shifted his gaze, wondering if they would be found. His pulse skyrocketed. After surveying the area with disappointment, the Germans turned to their commander.

— Sie sind nirgendwo zu finden. – one of them said disappointedly.

— Nutzlose Idiot” — the leader answered them angrily, stroking his aching knee. — Dort!

Having memorized the direction indicated by his palm, they immediately rushed off, still hoping to catch the fugitives. Their hapless leader hobbled slowly after them, silently cursing everything under the sun.

“They seem to have left,” Paul whispered, watching him go.

Svetlana carefully peeked out from behind cover, testing his hypothesis, after which she turned to the German, starting to glare at him with displeasure.

“Yes, but now we’re waiting for an explanation,” Verbova hissed angrily, blushing with irritation and slightly clenching her fists.

— Of course. Kein Problem«These people, like me, are looking for the Amber Room,” her comrade in misfortune answered her frankly.

“Why?” Valery intervened in the conversation, not understanding how exactly he was connected to these oddities.

“They’re modern-day Nazis. They want to finish the job of their idol. These idiots.” They believe that if they find all the lost relics of the past, they will be able to revive the empire.

“What does Valera have to do with this?” Svetlana asked a perfectly logical question.

— And you, Mein Schatz, stars in the world of treasures. Finders Liberians. Those who found what the Pauls and Russians der ZarAnd the communists were unable to do it. They think you will help them in their search too.

“What an amazing coincidence that you appeared in our lives at the same time, a real fairy tale!” Vinogradov protested, sensing a hidden danger somewhere deep down.

“Oh, come on, we worked together once, but their methods are too cruel. I was the one who recommended them to you before I left, to their own detriment. I’m very sorry. But the three of us can correct this unfortunate mistake and find the Amber Room!” the German declared enthusiastically.

“No,” Valery replied, shaking his head sternly. “We’re not going to look for anything with you. And we’re certainly not going to help them. Sorry, but we’re not on the same path.”

“Goodbye and all the best!” Svetlana added.

Together they immediately turned around and walked away from Paul, deciding at that very second to forget about him forever.

“But they won’t leave us alone!” the German shouted after them, not expecting such a reaction.

“We’ll see!” the treasure hunter countered, continuing to move away from there as quickly as possible.

“I’ll send you my contact information, so you can find me whenever you want!” he replied, taking out his phone and finding Vinogradov’s number, purchased on the black market, in his contacts.

However, the couple continued walking in the opposite direction, without reacting or looking back.

— Wir werden sehen«Paul whispered angrily after them, typing on his smartphone.

Chapter 8

Rudolf stood on the bank between the two Lower Ponds in the middle of the Green Bridge, gazing thoughtfully into the leafy distance of the park. To his right stood a small cast-iron gazebo with small benches at the corners of each support. In the distance, the Triumphal Arch was visible. “To the comrades-in-arms” is a free-standing portico with eight fluted Doric columns without bases, supporting an entablature with triglyphs and an inscription chosen by Alexander I, who approved the project, who was unsure whether to write “to the comrades-in-arms” or “to the associates”.

The German glanced at his subordinates, Hans and Albert, who were supposed to be combing the park, trying to find Valery and Svetlana, who had successfully escaped. This trio had long held nationalist views, but unlike most of their predecessors, they believed that “victory” could only be achieved through ancient values imbued with supernatural powers. Their former leader, as was well known, was obsessed with various pseudoscientific and mystical theories. In England, at Westminster Abbey, Ahnenerbe agents attempted to steal the Stone of Scone, where the coronation of Anglo-Saxon kings took place, and also searched for King Arthur’s sword. In Spain, they searched for traces of the Holy Grail and the Ark of the Covenant. The spear with which a Roman centurion stabbed Christ on the cross was kept in the Hofburg Museum in Vienna. In Tibet, special expeditions sent by the Nazis were searching for Shambhala, the land of an ancient wise race.

And now their descendants believed the Amber Room was one of Germany’s treasures, buried somewhere along with other valuables that might possess paranormal powers. And the room could be found by none other than Valery Vinogradov, who was no stranger to the principle of searching for what had been irretrievably lost.

Suddenly, Hans burst out from around the corner, breathing heavily and doubled over, clutching his liver. Rudolf glared at him, realizing the search had been unsuccessful. Albert followed, feeling a little better, but also returning empty-handed.

— Nothing — theleader asked them.

They just shook their heads.

— Dir kann man nichts anvertrauen, — he hissed. Rudolph.

— Was ist “What’s your plan?” Hans asked, barely breathing.

— Dank Ihnen werden wir sie hier nicht finden.

— Aber dennoch?– Albert intervened in the conversation.

At that moment, Rudolf pulled a buzzing phone out of his pocket and smiled smugly when he read the notification that had arrived.

— Und wir müssen nicht danach suchen. Wir fahren nach Moskau, ich habe ihre Adresse, — he stated, rejoicing window opened opportunities.

Chapter 9

Moscow Region. Valery and Svetlana’s House

Two days had passed since the events in Tsarskoye Selo. As soon as Valery and Svetlana learned of the Germans hunting them, they immediately interrupted their sightseeing tour of the Northern Capital, collected their belongings from St. Petersburg, and returned to Moscow by train.

They hadn’t been so distressed by the current situation in a long time. Even Taras Prikhodko hadn’t filled them with such mute and wild terror, which was telling. At least the couple had always understood his motives and what to expect from him. Now, however, there was complete uncertainty and a great mystery. What were their capabilities and methods? How far were they willing to go to achieve their goals? What were they willing to overcome? These questions remained unanswered until now.

However, one thing was clear and obvious as day: it was necessary to return home as soon as possible and not meet with these people anymore, and especially with Paul.

And so, finally, Vinogradov and Verbova stood at the gate of their two-story country house in the Moscow region. The sloping roof shimmered in the rays of the setting, yet still warm, summer sun. Somewhere in the distance, the croaking and croaking of frogs in the pond could be heard. Svetlana inserted the key into the lock and turned it until a sharp, creaking click signaled the gate could be opened. Nodding to each other, Valery and the girl quickly slipped inside, dragging the suitcase from the dusty, sandy street onto the neatly paved path of shaped stones of varying sizes leading to the house, and quickly closing the door behind them. Smooth paths, wedged between neatly trimmed coniferous bushes, wound like arteries through the body, across the manicured lawn and garden toward the stone building. The European-style building stood proudly amidst its green surroundings, creating a sense of monumentality and inaccessibility that the couple was sorely lacking after the stress they had experienced.

Breathing a sigh of relief, realizing they were finally in a safe place, the couple headed toward the house, turning on the water hoses at the entrance. All around them, the sprinklers, designed to keep the grass moistened in the heat, immediately began to spin, spraying cool drops. In the distance, a pump started pumping water from the well.

Walking quickly, dragging the suitcase behind them, its wheels creaking on the stone tiles, they found themselves at the front door. Nothing felt strange or unusual, but Svetlana immediately reached down, where she had left her “trap” at the junction between the door and the jamb. Completely unnoticeable at a glance, but the effective technique always worked in such situations. And the carefully placed piece of gum on the junction was completely intact. Any movement would have torn it in half, but now everything was safe.

“Is everything okay?” Valery asked her, looking closely at the “trap.”

“Yes,” Verbova agreed, peeling off her gum, “there was no one here. You can come in.”

“Good, otherwise I was already starting to worry,” Vinogradov sighed with relief, leaning one hand on the wall.

Svetlana immediately inserted the second key into the lock, and after turning it twice, the metal door swung open, allowing entry. Without thinking, the couple slipped inside, turning on the light to their right. The place smelled slightly musty, and a light dust had begun to float in the air, a buildup of dust during their week-long absence. Svetlana, who had never liked clutter, wrinkled her nose in displeasure, already imagining how she would clean it all up. Valery, meanwhile, quickly kicked his shoes off onto the rug by the entrance, tossed his suitcase there, and dashed toward the wooden spiral staircase leading up.

“Where are you going?” Verbova snapped, not understanding his outburst.

“I need to see something, I’ll be right back!” he shouted back, continuing his brisk climb.

Svetlana could only sigh with displeasure, knowing full well he was heading to his office. Paul’s story about the treasure had captivated him too much, reawakening his old passion and desire to find it. Even after Liberea, she’d feared this discovery would reignite his thirst for new adventures, but she’d always pushed that thought aside, hoping she’d been proven wrong. But her intuition hadn’t deceived her.

Vinogradov was now, indeed, walking quickly up the stairs toward his office. Each step he took on the wooden stairs made them creak musically, as if each were playing its own instrument, be it a violin or a drum, forming a whole orchestra, now melodically assembling at a classical concert. Inhaling the scent of home, Valery seemed to cast off all the fatigue of the journey and unfastened the thick metal chains that bound his legs. He flew, oblivious to everything, inspired by his purpose.

The treasure hunter ran into the study, its panoramic windows overlooking the garden, then turned toward a bookcase in the corner, chock-full of ancient books. However, he was interested in only one specific book: the one containing detailed research on the search for the Amber Room. Paul’s document on the valuables stolen from the Royal Castle had piqued his childish curiosity, and he simply had no intention of stopping there when such a window of opportunity opened up ahead.

Reaching the shelf and running his finger along the dusty leather spines, which creaked slightly under his touch, Valery fished out the copy he needed, opening it to the middle, where a spread with a black-and-white image of a room was tucked away. He then threw it onto the table, making a small clatter and raising clouds of dust into the air, which clogged between the pages and quickly spread throughout the room.

“So, so, so, where was this?” Vinogradov whispered, quickly flipping through the pages in search of the information he needed.

Suddenly, his favorite figurine, depicting a doctor in scrubs eating pizza, caught his eye. These statues were given to all students at the university during freshman initiation, and despite the less-than-favorable memories of his surgical training, they left a pleasant impression. Valery always pressed a small coin against it on the shelf, a peculiar and slightly odd ritual of his. The treasure hunter believed this would bring him more luck, so he always placed it at a slight angle. However, now the figurine stood perfectly straight and slightly off-center.

“What the?” Vinogradov whispered in surprise, coming closer to see what had happened while he was away.

Indeed, right now the doctor was not covering the coin with his body, which had miraculously disappeared in an unknown direction, which could not help but raise even more questions.

It was at that moment that he heard distinct footsteps behind him, followed by the sound of a gun being cocked. The sensation was unlike anything else, and it was also unforgettable. Having heard Taras say it before, the young man understood. He slowly turned around, seeing Rudolf standing before him, pointing a pistol at him and smiling smugly.

“Well, here we finally meet, Valery,” he whispered.

Chapter 10

Valery stood there, confused. He looked his unfamiliar opponent straight in the eye and had no idea what to do next. The young man carefully placed the figurine back on the shelf, then froze in place, as if secretly hoping he wouldn’t be spotted by the hawk circling above, like a field mouse in the tall grass. However, this plan, of course, didn’t work. Rudolf continued to stare at Vinogradov, smiling faintly.

“What, what do you want?” the treasure hunter whispered, stuttering slightly, cold sweat pouring down his back.

“Valery. I’m afraid we weren’t introduced. What a blunder!” the German shook his head, sighing sadly, slightly disappointed.

“Paul told me everything about you,” Valery countered, backing away a little until his back hit the shelf. There was simply nowhere else to retreat.

“Oh, really! And what did he say?” Rudolf said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

— That you are modern Nazis and want to find the old and forgotten treasures of your beloved Reich.

“Perhaps so. But what’s wrong with that? My people have lost too much. It’s high time to reclaim what’s rightfully ours,” the German said smugly, throwing his hands up to the ceiling.

At that moment, Hans and Albert appeared from the passage, surrounding their leader from both sides, forming a tight ring around Valery, forcing him to press his back even more tightly against the shelf until it began to wobble.

“You want to find the Amber Room with my help,” Vinogradov hissed discontentedly through his teeth, fully aware that they were going to use him.

— Yes, absolutely. wahr«And not only her,” Rudolf agreed with him, snapping his fingers and pointing his index finger at his interlocutor, as if he had just won the lottery.

“The Amber Room belongs to our people, and yours stole it brazenly and vilely,” the young man objected, nervously suspecting that he was slightly overdoing it in his expressions.

“As yours did before. The cabinet was commissioned by the Prussian King Friedrich I to decorate the gallery of the royal castle Charlottenburg,” the German retorted, not at all offended by the attack.

“And then his son, Friedrich Wilhelm I, gave it to Peter the Great because he simply didn’t need it, while he had good relations with Russia. The amber panels gathered dust all this time in unused boxes in the Berlin Zeughaus until they were handed over to the Tsar,” Valery said, shaking his head.

— This is ne” It cancels out the fact that the cabinet was made by the Germans, and it is our property,” Rudolf whispered, starting to get a little angry.

This outburst of anger forced Vinogradov to retreat a little further, but there was nowhere left to retreat. He slammed his back against the shelves, causing them to fall slightly on top of him. Then, fearing he would be crushed by the structure, he stepped aside, causing the shelves to crash to the floor with a deafening roar, sending up columns of stale dust, spilling their contents, and breaking into several pieces.

Hearing this, Svetlana, who was unpacking her things from her suitcase on the first floor, immediately froze in place and tensed up, looking up, completely unable to understand what had happened.

“What happened? Did an elephant fall?” she asked, rushing toward the stairs.

Realizing that Verbova would come up to them right now, Rudolf immediately approached Valery, pressing the pistol to his temple.

— Tell her something, otherwise I’ll have to kill her.

Vinogradov looked at him in fear, and then at the steps from which the sounds of footsteps were already coming, and then back again.

“Sveta! Everything’s fine! Don’t worry! I just dropped a big book about the Staritsky Caves!” he shouted at her as loudly as he could, as if using his voice to indicate something was wrong.

“Really? Why did you even need it?” the girl asked him, stopping in confusion halfway through.

“I just remembered something about Taras appearing from behind. I thought, let me read it!” Valery replied, hoping with all his heart that this transparent hint would be simultaneously clear to her and completely obscure to the uninvited guests.

Rudolf stood there, confused. He couldn’t understand the meaning of the last sentence, but deep down he sensed something was wrong. Meanwhile, Svetlana froze in place, frightened. She remembered vividly how, two steps before Liberea, Taras and Bogdan had appeared out of nowhere to catch up with them in the caves, followed by Peter’s betrayal. But what did that have to do with the current situation?

“There’s someone there, he’s definitely not alone, otherwise he wouldn’t be talking such incoherent nonsense,” flashed through Verbova’s head.

“Okay, then I’ll go down and unpack my things,” she shouted back at him just as loudly, hoping to be heard.

The girl immediately ran down the steps, heading for the nearby basement. Valery breathed a sigh of relief, and Rudolf removed his pistol from his temple as soon as he sensed the danger had passed.

“What exactly do you want from me?” Vinogradov continued, wanting to fully understand the situation.

“Paul managed to pass us a certain document. It’s taking us to Königsberg. That’s where the room and all the other treasures should be, and you ‘ll help us find them,” the German replied, pulling a photocopy of the same document from his pocket that Valery had already seen in Tsarskoye Selo and showing it to his interlocutor.

“What if I refuse?” he objected, suspecting they clearly wouldn’t let him go so easily.

“We’ll kill her first, and then you,” Rudolf answered in a calm and matter-of-fact tone, as if he said this left and right every day.

This phrase made Vinogradov swallow nervously, because right now he understood perfectly well what kind of people he was dealing with and what they were capable of.

At the same time, Svetlana reached a small door off the kitchen, leading down a narrow spiral staircase to the basement. Carefully, trying not to make any unnecessary or suspicious noises, she descended the steps, turning on the flashlight on her phone. The bright white light immediately cut through the gloomy and frightening darkness, revealing shelves lined along the walls, overflowing with jars of cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and other canned goods. When first arriving here, one might have assumed it would be impossible to eat all of this, but surprisingly, in the winter, everything flew off as if it had never been there. But the jars held little interest for her, as in the very center stood a small metal safe with a combination lock. Running up to it, Verbova immediately entered the code using the buttons, a beep sounded and a motor sounded, after which the girl confidently pulled out her old service pistol, loaded a magazine into it and cocked the hammer, after which she also quickly climbed up.

Right now, she had to proceed with caution, as she didn’t know exactly what was happening on the second floor. All she knew was that there were unknown people there who were possibly threatening Valery, and the rest was irrelevant. She began to carefully step up the stairs, so as not to give away the sound of her footsteps, but they creaked treacherously.

“Just not now, please,” Verbova whispered, cursing every piece of wood.

However, the Germans were not at all bothered by this sound, because right now all their attention was focused on Valery.

“So, yes or no?” Rudolf pressed him impatiently, expecting to get the result as soon as possible.

Valery counted every moment. The seconds of waiting seemed like an eternity. He hoped with all his heart that Svetlana had gotten his hint and would appear soon, but the countdown continued, and salvation seemed so far away. Suddenly, footsteps were heard from around the corner, and then Verbova leaped into the room, pistol at the ready, aiming at the leader.

“Show me your hands so I can see,” she hissed, glaring at the Germans.

Rudolf only smiled silently, pointing his weapon at her in response.

“You first,” he replied smugly, keeping his finger on the trigger.

Chapter 11

Svetlana glared furiously at Rudolf. Her hands didn’t shake. She held the pistol confidently, knowing she would do whatever was necessary. The German, however, continued to smile smugly. He seemed completely unfazed. As if he weren’t just a step away from a shootout, but on a paradise beach, shaded by palm trees, on some distant, wild island.

“How did you end up here?” Verbova muttered through her teeth, holding back a fit of rage at the presence of strangers on her territory.

“Oh, that’s an interesting question,” the leader answered, shaking his head as if trying to recall recent events. “At first, we wanted to enter through the main entrance. But we discovered, how should we put it, fangen.“Then the most reliable way to hide one’s presence turned out to be to pry open the window in the pantry.

“They’re cunning bastards,” Svetlana whispered, sighing heavily, realizing that her plan had been seen through.

— Yes”- Rudolf answered smugly, as if he was proud of this fact.

“What do you want?” Verbova continued to press her point, moving her pistol between the three of them, as if she wasn’t bothered by their numerical superiority.

“They want me to find the Amber Room,” Valery answered for them, continuing to press his back against the wall in fear.

“He knows,” Rudolf laughed, swinging his weapon like a toy.

“That won’t happen,” Svetlana objected, becoming even more determined to fight.

— Then you are welcome. “Death,” the German spread his arms out to the sides, provoking them to continue.

Suddenly, everything slowed down. Verbova’s thoughts swarmed so fast it was impossible to contain them. Dozens of combinations and moves sprang into being in an instant, as if she were playing virtual chess right now, calculating everything several moves ahead. There were more of them, but she had the element of surprise on her side. A bishop and two pawns against a queen and rook on the other side. Numbers versus skill and surprise. A class advantage. Valery looked at Svetlana, as if awaiting some kind of signal, ready to act no matter what, and, sensing the sparkle in her eyes, he got it.

Without thinking twice and deciding there was no point in hesitating, the girl aimed her pistol at Rudolf’s hand, holding the barrel, and quickly fired, causing him to drop his weapon and scream. A searing sensation burned through his palm. Heart-wrenching pain quickly spread throughout his body, causing his body to burn with the resulting suffering.

— Oh verdammt, verdammtes “Mädchen!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, bending over and clutching his sore limb.

Realizing the right moment had arrived, Valery immediately jumped on top of him, knocking him to the floor, pinning him to the carpet with his entire body weight, causing him to groan. Hans and Albert exchanged fearful glances, frozen in place, unsure of what to do next. However, Verbova quickly shook off their stupor, this time pointing her pistol at them.

— Idiot, child “Mir!” Rudolf yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to find his fallen weapon with his good hand.

The Germans immediately rushed toward him, but a warning shot into the air from Svetlana immediately cooled their ardor. At that moment, the leader finally managed to find his pistol and, pulling it toward himself with short finger movements, began aiming at the girl, inevitably realizing the consequences.

Now, time stood still before Vinogradov’s eyes. He saw in slow motion the weapon rise from the floor, the sights converging on Svetlana. Another moment, and something terrible would happen. Valery understood that everything was in his hands. The young man immediately stopped holding Rudolf, throwing all his strength on his pistol hand, trying to redirect it. A heartbreaking, thunderous shot rang out, like a bolt from the blue, enveloping the room. A bright flash, like lightning, pierced the room, after which Vinogradov looked fearfully at Verbova, praying that a stray bullet hadn’t hit her. And lo and behold! Svetlana stood frozen in fear, but she was unharmed.

The same couldn’t be said for Albert. He stumbled back, coughing violently, pressing his hand to his throat. Releasing it, he realized blood was pouring out like a river, quickly draining all his strength. The German fell to his knees, then slowly closed his eyes and fell backward.

— Albert! — shouted the frightened Hans, rushing towards his comrade.

He tried to cover his throat with his hand, but he couldn’t do anything; the scarlet liquid was gushing out too forcefully. Albert lost consciousness completely.

— Nein, bitte! – Hans practically sobbed over the body of his brother.

At that moment, Rudolf managed to free one leg, which he quickly took advantage of. Realizing that everyone was looking at his subordinate and no one would stop him, the German kicked Valery in the stomach with all his might, sending him tumbling to the side. He then quickly jumped up and rushed to the panoramic window, holding his pistol in front of him. Svetlana immediately opened fire on him from behind, but after missing twice, she pulled herself back, deciding not to risk an accidental death.

Rudolf took advantage of the delay, firing his weapon at the glass, causing it to crack like spiderwebs, and then slamming into it at full speed, shattering it into tiny pieces, landing from the second floor into the bushes of the garden. Hans could only stare silently at his dying brother one last time and, frightened by the gun Verbova pointed at him, follow his superior’s example.

At the same time, Valery rushed headlong to the windowsill, or rather, to what was left of it, seeing only the heels of their uninvited guests flashing towards the dense forest.

“They’re leaving!” he said angrily, returning to the center of the room.

“To hell with them!” the girl answered him, approaching Albert.

He showed no signs of life, but as soon as Vinogradov leaned over him and felt his pulse on the carotid artery, he suddenly began coughing, spitting out red clots right onto the carpet, causing Svetlana to wince in disgust.

“He’s still breathing, call an ambulance!” Valery shouted, starting to administer first aid, trying to remember what he’d been taught at the institute.

Chapter 12

The soft setting sun gently touched the roofs of the suburban buildings of the dacha complex. Its crimson rays tinted the outlines of the gardens orange, and the shadows ominously devoured the stone paths. Somewhere in the distance, dogs in their kennels howled piteously, as if awaiting, like wolves, the imminent appearance of the moon.

At home, Valery and Svetlana were in a complete nightmare. Right in the middle of the office, littered with broken shelves and shattered panoramic windows, the glass shattered into tiny pieces, lay Albert’s lifeless, pale body. Forensic experts, holding yellow tags with serial numbers, walked around, snapping their camera shutters, documenting the scene. They unceremoniously picked up things from the floor with their hands, clad in thick rubber gloves, carefully turning them over, taking photographs, and then putting them away.

The owners stood silently, saddened, watching this scene, completely unsure of what would happen next. They’d seen corpses before, but this moment felt special; it wasn’t every day that forensic experts walked through their house and a motionless body lay on the floor. Every flash of the camera echoed loudly in their souls, evoking memories of today’s events.

Valery, sighing heavily, headed to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. The water slowly washed away the caked blood on his hands, which was somewhat comforting, but it couldn’t completely free his mind from the situation. The young man tried to revive the German as best he could, but he didn’t make it before the ambulance arrived: Albert died in his arms. Looking at his red palms, and then in the mirror at his tired, exhausted face with its sunken cheeks, Vinogradov turned off the faucet, took a towel from the holder, briefly wiped his fingers, and then angrily threw it against the sink with a deafening thud.

Tears welled up in his eyes, but Valery tried his best to hold back the nervous breakdown he absolutely needed right now. After standing there for about a minute to regain his composure and calm down a bit, the treasure hunter returned to his wrecked office, standing next to Svetlana.

At that moment, a man strolled in behind him, the light from the flashlights reflected in his thick glasses. He twirled his annoying little mustache with his hand, then paused in the corner, glancing at the owners of the house, smiling slightly, as if secretly mocking them.

“Life is such an interesting thing. I couldn’t put you in jail back then, and now you’ve turned to crime again,” he declared, smoothing his bald head, which had become slightly sweaty in the heat.

“What’s your connection to this, Sylvester Gennadievich?” Svetlana hissed discontentedly, looking her former boss in the eye.

“No surprise, Svetochka, it’s work,” Mikhailov answered her, leaning against the wall.

“But this is n’t under the security service’s jurisdiction,” Valery intervened in their conversation, the last thing he wanted to see after all this was this man nearby.

“That’s right, you have a good grasp of the law, Mr. Vinogradov. But, you should know, as of yesterday, I was promoted, and I am now the Chairman of the Investigative Committee.”

“Oh, come on,” the girl was surprised by this turn of events.

“That’s how it is. And what irony. I heard rumors that a murder had occurred in the home of a former security guard, so I couldn’t help but take personal charge of the matter, even despite my position,” Sylvester said, savoring every word, as if he’d been meaning to say them for a long time.

At that moment, two employees approached the body and lowered the stretcher to the floor. They then unwrapped the bag with a crunching sound and unzipped the zipper that buzzed along its runners. They quickly placed Albert’s body inside, closed the bag, and disappeared down the stairs. Valery could only watch them go silently and sadly, knowing that this image would haunt his memories for a long time, like a worm, burrowing through the soil of his mind, making him shudder at every thought of what had happened back home, even when he looked at this room.

“Come on, tell me how you killed him,” Mikhailov interrupted him from his thoughts, taking his notebook out of his pocket.

“First of all, we’re not being interrogated, and that’s a leading question,” Svetlana immediately interrupted him.

Sylvester could only sigh heavily, slam his book shut, then put it in his pocket and scratch his mustache, discontentedly wondering what to do next.

“Okay, okay, but what about secondly?” he asked, waiting for her to continue.

“Secondly, we didn’t kill him; that German did. The three of them broke into our house, a struggle ensued, and then his hand slipped, forcing him to shoot his own,” Verbova replied.

“That’s precisely why you miraculously forgot to hand over your service pistol and now you have it in your hands,” Sylvester objected, nodding his head at the weapon.

“He was killed from something else,” the girl objected, bashfully hiding the witness of her actions.

“Let’s say the examination decides that, but what did they need then?” Mikhailov continued the interrogation, getting into the swing of things.

“They wanted me to help them find the Amber Room,” Valery intervened in the conversation.

“Ah, the Amber Room, so why am I not surprised?” the Investigative Committee chairman laughed at him, scratching his nose.

“It’s true. They’re modern-day Nazis and they want to find hidden treasure!” Vinogradov said, indignant at Sylvester’s incredulity.

“Yes, I believe it, Nazis, the Amber Room. Right after Perun’s Axe or Gandiva’s Bow,” the man began to mock him openly.

Valery was about to engage in a heated argument with him to prove his point, deeply offended by such allusions to the treasure hunter’s fantasies, but Svetlana quickly stopped him, realizing that a conflict would only hinder them now.

“It’s not that important. Better yet, tell me what you want from us,” she declared, making her move.

“Me? Thanks to you both, my career has taken off, so putting me in pretrial detention right now would mean making headlines. For now, we’ll settle for a travel ban, and you’ll come back to me for an official interrogation next week. I think we’ll have more detailed information and the results of the examination by then. And one more thing: please hand over the pistol you’re illegally possessing.”

Upon hearing this, Valery and Svetlana exchanged glances. On the one hand, they knew perfectly well that this was the lesser of two evils. On the other, this scenario forced them to tread on thin ice. One false step, and the edge would collapse, and they would find themselves plunging headfirst into the icy water, their status as witnesses shifting to suspects. And then this story would take on a completely different light, with darker undertones predominating.

“Okay, we agree,” Verbova decided for both of them, realizing that he couldn’t offer them anything better right now and handing her weapon to her former boss.

Hearing this, Sylvester clapped his hands with joy and rubbed them together.

“Varfolomeev, come here! We’ll sign the subscriptions!” he shouted to his subordinate at the other end of the house.

A young man with a folder immediately ran into the room, fished out the ill-fated documents, and took the pistol from Verbova, placing it in a plastic bag. The couple could only hold their breath and hope for the best as they signed the fateful documents. Valery, whose hands were still red, left his bloody fingerprint on it, as if he’d made a deal with the devil. And that wasn’t far from the truth.

Chapter 13

The sun had already set far below the horizon. Darkness descended on the garden, enveloping the carefully planted fir trees and junipers in its thick, somber blanket. Somewhere in the distance, crickets began to chirp, slightly unnerving, as if endlessly playing tiny drums, their tiny stick-like legs swaying across the grass.

As if echoing what was now going on in Valery and Svetlana’s souls, the sky thickened with thick clouds, entangling the entire night’s “blanket.” A light rain began to drizzle, drumming on the roof, first lightly, then intensely. A full-blown thunderstorm had begun. The downpour, a sudden curse, came down in sheets. Streams of water began to flow through the garden, which sloped gently toward the forest beyond the property, encircling the blades of grass in a dense stream, as if nature had suddenly decided to radically alter the landscape by creating a mighty river.

A bright bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, splitting the vault in two, followed by an equally loud rumble of thunder. The thunder rumbled directly overhead, as if assuring everyone around of its seriousness and warning of danger. Hearing this and looking out the broken picture windows at the streams of rain pouring onto the second floor, driven by a slanting wind, Valery and Svetlana involuntarily shuddered, deeply terrified by the raging elements. The room was now so soft they could walk across the squelching carpet in their rubber boots, so, having recovered from their shock, the couple rushed to the basement to find their plastic gardening blankets, which could at least somehow cover the hole in the main structure.

of preserves in their haste, which smashed to the floor with a crash and spilled salty brine, the young man and girl found a life-saving blanket folded in half in the corner, after which, just as quickly, their dirty feet clinging to the boards, they rushed upstairs.

Before half the room had even flooded, they managed to cover the resulting gap with this life-saving material, which, like fluff, was now fluttering in the wind, first one way and then the other, intent on uprooting this hastily constructed structure. Wiping the sweat from their faces, mixed with the raindrops running down their foreheads, the couple collapsed onto the chairs in the corner, breathing heavily and looking at each other.

This day couldn’t have gotten any more terrible, but nothing was certain anymore. A ruined vacation, bandits at their house, a dead body, and now a downpour with a broken window. Amazing stories and jokes could be made about it, but they weren’t funny at all.

“What are we going to do next?” Valery asked, his voice hoarse and slightly cold.

“I don’t know,” Svetlana, shivering from the cold, answered him just as heavily. “Sylvester will call us in for questioning next week, and it’s hard to say what will happen after that. Most likely, he wants to detain us.”

“But you probably still have connections at your old place of work, especially since the expertise should be on our side,” Vinogradov objected.

“That’s true, but all my connections are more than outweighed by him and his new position. What merits could have earned him such a promotion?” Verbova shook her head discontentedly.

“Okay, but what about the Germans then? I seriously doubt they’ll just leave us alone. Especially if they found us so easily in St. Petersburg and here,” the young man whispered irritably, clutching his head.

“What are we going to do with them? We have no leads, no authority, nothing! And now we’re under a written undertaking. They’ve tied our hands tightly, with titanium bracelets, no less,” the girl hissed.

“I think we need to contact Paul, he knows what their options are,” Valery countered, deciding that he needed to offer at least some options.

“Yeah, so what next? He’ll want another treasure found. And we’re under a travel ban right now, we can’t go anywhere. Especially not for a myth,” Verbova countered, shaking her head.

— Liberea was also a myth.

— A shell never falls into the same crater twice.

“We should try. I’ve been thinking about finding a room for a while. And then this German showed up. I don’t believe in signs and coincidences that lead to something more, but my heart tells me this is exactly what we need!” Vinogradov concluded.

“Yeah, and you think we can just up and drop everything and go to Kaliningrad, right? And no one will follow us, they won’t put us on the wanted list. And those Nazis will never find us. That’s pure fantasy!” Svetlana continued to rant.

“That’s exactly the point!” the young man countered, causing the girl to widen her eyes in surprise and confusion. “Sylvester will be hot on our heels as soon as we leave the Moscow region. That’s an undeniable fact. It’s also axiomatic that those Germans will pursue us. It’ll happen no matter what; they could show up here again tomorrow. I doubt your former boss took us at our word and would provide the necessary level of security as valuable witnesses. That means we’re in grave danger. And on the third scale, which balances the other two, we have an incredible chance of finding one of the most interesting lost treasures in the history of not only our country, but the entire world!”

“What do you mean by that?” Verbova asked, knowing deep down where this was all heading.

“We can kill three birds with one stone. We’ll find the treasure and clear our reputation by letting Sylvester catch those Nazis. And then let him sort things out with the Foreign Ministry and the Ministry of Justice on his own. That’s not our problem anymore. The main thing is to remove ourselves from the status of murder suspects.”

Svetlana thought hard. She trusted Valery as she trusted herself. On the one hand, his words sounded perfectly reasonable. But on the other, they were utter madness. If even one element of this multi-move game failed, the entire house of cards would collapse, deafeningly showering them with the rubble of dashed hopes. And what would happen next was terrifying to even imagine. Death or prison. Neither option seemed to suit them.

“So, do you agree?” Valery asked, already holding his phone in his hand, chatting with Paul, who had somehow gotten his number and messaged him directly.

“Okay, but something tells me we’re digging our own grave right now,” Verbova answered, shaking her head in displeasure.

Then, realizing that he had been given carte blanche to do whatever he wanted, Vinogradov happily dialed Paul’s number on the phone, anticipating the start of the search for a new treasure.

Chapter 14

Airplane

The roar of the fans blowing in his face prevented him from calming down or even getting a nap. Valery was forced to stare straight ahead at the empty plastic seat next to him. There were no other distractions in sight. Taking a deep breath and looking out the window, the young man saw the very center of the enormous wing that would lift them to an altitude of several miles within the next half hour. Right now, boarding was finishing for the flight from Moscow to Kaliningrad, and that could only mean one thing: he was back in business. The adventure was just beginning.

When they found Libereya and became celebrities, Vinogradov never imagined he would experience such a childish sense of delight in the anticipation of something unknown. And now, a new journey and a new treasure, in no way inferior to the previous one in both its cultural and material value. A dream come true! There’s just one catch: the Nazis, as well as the authorities, led by Sylvester, could come for them at any moment. Everything is just like the good old days.

Crowds of people milled about in the aisle, unable to find their seats, as if unwilling to part with their luggage for a few hours and instead wanting to stand next to it for the entire flight. Flight attendants milled about, helping people close overhead bins and fasten seatbelts.

At that moment, there was a jolt from behind, and Paul plopped down onto the empty seat next to her, immediately stretching his legs out in front of him and resting his knees on the seat in front of him. Svetlana, who had already managed to doze off, looked at him with displeasure, her eyes drooping.

— Guten Morgen” Valery, I’m glad to see you again,” he said contentedly, fastening his belt on his stomach.

“I can’t say the same,” Vinogradov answered him, upset at the sight of the German.

However, he understood perfectly well that without his document they would not find the treasure.

“Oh, that can be fixed. After all, adventures await us. Fun, isn’t it?” their new partner persisted in his reasoning.

“Very,” Verbova mimicked him, finally waking up and trying to roll over onto her other side.

“You showed us your relative’s document. I hope you have it with you?” Vinogradov continued, deciding to get straight to the point.

“Of course!” the German was indignant, not understanding why he was asked about this, since he was the main key in the search.

Paul immediately unzipped his pocket, pulling out a package, then opened it and handed it to Valery. The ornate symbols intertwined in intricate designs, but the young man couldn’t understand them due to his lack of knowledge of the language.

“Will you translate it?” he asked, returning the scroll to his comrade.

— Kein “Problem,” he replied, peering closely at the noticeably faded text. “Military report. On March 10, 1945, the castle was attacked by an enemy unit in military uniform. Using forged documents, they gained access to the museum and stole seven boxes of valuables, including four important artifacts from the German Amber Chamber. The gang of criminals used a truck to transport the loot. After the cowardly robbery, the criminals disappeared into an underground shelter in the immediate vicinity of the royal castle. Castle guards were unable to stop the perpetrators in time, and a full investigation into the incident was immediately launched. As garrison commander, I take full responsibility for this unfortunate incident and will do everything in my power to recover the stolen goods and bring those responsible to justice. Garrison commander, Gustav Scholz.”

What he heard made Valery think. He loved codes, but now his brain refused to process the information.

“So, they hid underground opposite the Royal Castle. There aren’t many options there,” the young man concluded.

— I agree. I bet it’s a bunker. “Steindamm,” Paul said proudly, gesturing to his fang.

“Let’s say, as far as I know, Bryusov and Alfred Rohde, the chief curator of the Amber Room in Königsberg, went to inspect the underground structure at the intersection of Steindamm and Rosenerstrasse. He wrote that they descended a long staircase several floors and found themselves in a room consisting of several storage rooms and sleeping quarters. Inside, everything was in disarray, with sculptures and paintings scattered across the floor. Meanwhile, while the searchers were busy inspecting the rooms, Alfred Rohde disappeared; he wasn’t with them. It seems he went off to check the hidden room somewhere, and then, having confirmed its safety, returned to the group.”

“That is, he could have found the hiding place with the parts of the Amber Room brought there by the bandits, examined it, and then appeared in front of the group,” Paul continued his thoughts.

“It’s quite possible,” Vinogradov agreed with him.

“But why did n’t they search the bunker again then?” the German asked.

“Because Bryusov, due to his forgetfulness, was unable to identify the exact location of this shelter. Or for some reason he didn’t want to show it,” the treasure hunter replied with a shrug.

“And the bandits could have been in collusion with Rode and transported some of the valuables there from the Royal Castle on his orders,” Paul added to his thoughts.

“Perhaps, but how are we supposed to search for this bunker if Bryusov couldn’t find it again?” Valery asked.

“Opposite the ruined royal castle, there’s only one building that resembles a bunker,” Svetlana interrupted, half asleep. “In the 1980s, they built a fortified structure there for telephone and other electronic equipment for the House of Communications. It’s entirely possible that the ruins of that very shelter are located there.”

“You’re a genius!” Vinogradov declared happily, kissing Verbov on the cheek. “That’s exactly where he is. We just need to get inside and then find the secret room. But how are we going to do that?”

Just at that moment, a horn sounded overhead and the no-smoking and seatbelt signs lit up, followed by a hoarse voice: “Dear ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Povidlov speaking, we are pleased to welcome you on board our airline, the plane is preparing for takeoff.”

Flight attendants immediately began scurrying around, preparing their gear for the pre-flight briefing.

“Let’s discuss it later, please. I haven’t slept all night,” Svetlana pleaded in a plaintive, yawning voice.

“Okay, sleep,” Valery agreed with her, directing his gaze to the demonstration of how the life jackets worked.

Chapter 15

Kaliningrad

The warm summer sun was setting in the sky, heralding the long night ahead. Twilight had already begun to descend. The city slowly began to sink into darkness. However, this was the only disappointment awaiting the trio of treasure hunters.

The ancient German buildings around, having seen much in their time, seemed to “breathe” the pleasant aromas of this rather green metropolis. A hint of history could be felt in every window. The Dietrich family of bakers once lived here, and here the obscure Seppelt composed poetry. Elsewhere, the echoes of a slightly off-key and squeaky, yet classical piano could be heard, and there, in the distance, the hammering of the never-finished construction site echoed in the soul.

The very essence of the city permeated its surroundings. This incredible eclectic atmosphere was disconcerting, jarring, and pleasing to the eye. It was simultaneously Prussian, German, Soviet, and Russian, incorporating the best aspects of all cultures into its essence, blending them into something unusual, unconventional, and therefore incredibly captivating. Once you’ve visited this place, it’s impossible not to fall in love.

And right now, Paul, Valery and Svetlana were standing in the square at the intersection of Shevchenko Street and Leninsky Prospekt, which once bore the proud names of Kantstrasse and Forstedtische Langgasse at the ruins of the Royal Castle. These were the very same ruins where, long ago, almost a hundred years ago, Anatoly Kuchumov interrogated Feyerabend. Tragically, virtually no trace remains of those pointed turrets and Gothic architecture. In 1967, by decision of Nikolai Konovalov, First Secretary of the Regional Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, the castle ruins were blown up. After its demolition in 1969, several feet of the mountaintop were leveled during the removal of the ruins, as a museum of the Great Patriotic War was planned for the site. The southeastern part of the castle now houses the unfinished Soviet-era House of Soviets: a tasteless colossus, the so-called “white elephant” — an expensive property that its owner is forced to maintain but receives no benefit from. This ugly stain has become one of the symbols of Soviet Kaliningrad and its current curse. The remains of the ruins were excavated in the early 2000s, and there was even talk of restoration, but unfortunately, things did not go further, and the foundations of the former walls had to be concreted and preserved.

The trio looked across the street, where a glass-tiled cubic semicircle stood opposite the famous hotel — Kaliningrad Plaza, a shopping mall enormous for such a narrow space. In any other situation, Svetlana would have been happy to go inside and browse the shops. However, now they were in completely different circumstances. Time was running out, and the possibility of being detained by Sylvester or overtaken by Rudolf added fuel to the fire, fueling their already out-of-control anxiety.

— Old bunker” It should be right behind the store,” Paul said, holding his right hand out in front of him.

“Yes, when I was here last time, as far as I remember, there were pipes sticking out of the ground right behind it,” Verbova agreed with him, nodding her head.

“But it’s Soviet, but is there the German one we’re looking for underneath it? That’s a big question,” Valery whispered disapprovingly, starting to worry that they’d guessed wrong.

“We won’t know until we’re inside. It would be foolish to dig a new one if the remains of the old one remain,” the girl countered.

“That’s also true,” Vinogradov drawled, more animatedly. “But how will we get inside? Even if they let us into the Communications House, we’re unlikely to reach the secret rooms.”

“You, the one who once infiltrated the Kremlin, should be talking about this? Leave it to me,” Svetlana said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

— I hope you took your ID with you?

— Naturally, you also ask, it would be stupid to leave him when leaving the service.