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                When

the plane landed, two very subdued individuals got off with their luggage,

amidst apologies from the pilots for the bumpy ride. The two made their way

into the airport and straight for the security checkpoint.  They had their forged documents handy, and the

closer they got to entering the country, the more nervous Edward became. He

knew some Italian, but hardly enough for him to pass as being from the Vatican.

And Maggie; she hardly fit the appearance of anyone from the church.                Of

course, she wasn't supposed to be. She was with him in an unofficial capacity.

Thankfully, they were using their real names, Edward Peterson and Maggie Peterson.

It made keeping their names straight an easier task. He was a deacon, hence his

having a child, and she traveled where he did. Since the papers were signed and

sealed from the pope, few people would have the nerve to question them. The

Russians might be one group who would.                Since

the photos were new and looked just like them, the paperwork was accepted

without question. But as they passed through the metal detectors, the alarms

went off. A few hands went to holstered guns as they were asked to step though

again. Maggie patted herself down and found the only thing she had that was

metal was her ring. She handed it over and stepped through. The alarm was

silent.                Edward

did the same. The security detail looked at the nondescript rings and smiled.

Silly religious stuff, they were sure. But when Edward walked through the

detector again, it still went off. He shrugged and stepped back though.  He knew the routine and began stripping where

he was. When he was down to his boxers, he stepped though one more time. Again,

the alarm went off.                A

Russian with a thick accent spoke to him in English, since his papers said that

he spoke it as a primary language. "What is scar?" pointing to his chest.                What

could he tell him? That he had been recently impaled by a sword? He had to make

something up and quick. "War wound. Afghanistan."                The man

took a wand and ran it across his chest. It beeped like it had struck gold. The

Russian smiled. "Shrapnel. You're lucky to be alive with that much inside you.

Next time make a note of it in your papers da? It will save time and much

trouble."                He got

dressed again and they walked away through the cavernous airport until they

made it to the outside. Neither of them spoke during their walk. Maggie finally

burst out with "What the hell was all that about?"                "How

the hell should I know? Apparently that sword left parts of it behind? Leonardo

said it was a nasty piece of business."                "It was,

and I examined it, and it was all in one piece. There is something else going

on here."                "Like

what, pray tell?"                "Like I

don't know."                "Not

helpful Mags. And why did the rings set it off too? They're pretty small to set

the machine off so easily."                "That I

can't answer either. I suppose it has something to do with the makeup of them.

We never did get to have that alloy tested."                "Well I

don't like it. When we get back to Rome, I'm having a talk with the old master

and see what he has to say."                "You do

that. For now, we need to get a taxi to take us to our destination." Maggie was

often leaning towards the practical side as of late. There was no point in

worrying about it for now, because whatever the problem was, they were no in

the position to deal with it. He was alive, so whatever reason the alarm went

off, it wasn't causing him any trouble.                They

flagged down an orange and black taxi and climbed in. The driver turned and

smiled, showing a gap in his teeth. "Kuda ty idesh' moikh druzey?"                Maggie

spoke to him in return. "Yesli vy govorite po-angliyski, chto bylo by

predpochtitel'neye."                The man

smiled wider. "English? Sure. I speak good English. Where do you want to go?"                "To

church. More specifically, the Church of St Catherine."                "OK.

You hang on. And welcome to Russia!"                The car

tore into the near lane and sped off north towards the city. Edward leaned over

and whispered to Maggie. "When the hell did you learn Russian?"                "I have

been, online. I'm not great at it, but did you think we'd be automatically dancing

the troika once we landed? You need to look ahead at future needs, not just

what each day is going to bring. Sometimes it makes all the difference what you

bring to the party."                He was

a little irritated with her candid appraisal of his shortcomings, but he

chalked it up to her superior ability to see into the future, if that was

really a thing.  She shut up and enjoyed

the ride. St Petersburg was a pretty nice city, as far as he could see, though

he didn't like large metropolises after his stay in New York.  New York City was probably twice the size of

this, the home of the former tsar's Winter Palace. At nearing five million

people, it was plenty big.                The

taxi flew through the streets like the politsiya were after them. When they

finally pulled up to St Catherine's Church they found it sitting on the side of

the largest street in the city, Nevsky Prospekt. It's lovely yellow and white

façade was not as imposing as had been St Peter's in Rome, but then it was

probably a matter of dumb luck that the building had not been torn down after

the revolution in 1917. So it was a small miracle it was still standing at all.                They

gathered their bags and paid the taxi driver who tore off back into traffic

like a maniac. Not knowing exactly where to go, the two of them walked into the

front doors. Through the narthex into the nave they walked, carrying their bags

with them. Inside, it was filled with chairs instead of pews. Maggie looked

around at the subtle colors on the wall and exclaimed, "It looks like an Easter

egg in here!"                "Shhhhh!

This is a church, and while you may not believe the way others do, that's no

reason to be disrespectful."                "I

wasn't! It's kind of neat looking; not all somber and stuffy like a lot of churches.

And look at the domes! They remind me of eggs too, only from the inside."                She was

correct. It was a surprisingly clean interior, and brightly lit. Not that a

building had anything to do with saving men's souls, but it was a truly likable

design, and obviously very old. As they were standing there, an old bearded

man, dressed in black, came out of a side door and approached them. Spying

their bags, he bowed. "Father Demetri Volikov at your service. I assume you are

the emissary from the Vatican?"                Emissary.

That sounded funny to Edward's ears. How the hell did he end up becoming

anyone's emissary, much less the pope's? "Yes, that's me. I'm Edward Peterson

and this is my daughter, Maggie."                He

extended his hand in a cool greeting. "It is most unusual to have someone who

has a child. The church has been very set against that sort of thing."                Maggie

couldn't resist. "Some popes had kids, didn't they?"                "Yes,

as a matter of fact they did, and we do not speak openly of it."                 "I

don't know why not. It's not like it's a secret or anything. I heard it first

hand from..." Edward kicked her.                "Not

now dear. This kind man was talking." His voice was tight.                "It's

alright. I understand the impetuousness of youth. Shall I escort you to your

rooms and then you can maybe tell me why you are here."                "You

don't know?"                "The

Vatican was kind enough to tell us you were arriving, but not the reason for

your visit. It has upset the routine here just awaiting your arrival. The

sooner you could tell us, the sooner we can fix the problem."                "Oh,

there's no problem. We are doing a fact finding trip, and we were told to stay

here while we were doing it. Pope Francis was quite adamant about it. So

outside of filling two rooms, we'll not be in your way."                The man

sighed with relief, and while it looked like he had more questions, he wisely

kept them to himself. "I am relieved. I thought perhaps there had been a

complaint lodged."                "None

that I was made aware Father Volikov.                 He

visibly relaxed. "That is good. I was afraid that someone had reported

something amiss."                Maggie

was in a mood. "Why, is there something that needs reporting?"                He

stiffened again. "No."                Edward

side-kicked her. "Hush!"                The

priest said no more as he led them to their rooms. He tried to be gracious, but

he made off as quickly as he could. Maggie glared at him as he power-walked

down the hall.                "I

don't trust him."                "It

doesn't matter. I have a feeling we'll only be in town for a few days. After

all, what can we expect to find that the KGB didn't root out during their

reign?"                "I

don't know. But there has to be some sort of clue here for us to find."                "Maybe

Mags, but don't get your hopes up. I mean, think about it. If your grandmother

is still alive, she's back in the states somewhere. She probably brought with

her everything of importance that she could. "                "You

might be right, but we're here so we might as well make the best of it."                "Agreed.

But for now, I think I want to kick back and relax."                She

smiled. "Oh?"                "Not

like that. After everything I did to you on the plane, I'd think you'd want a

break!"                "Oh, I

don't know. I learned something up there, and that is that I do have limits. It

scared the hell out of me, but it made me think how cocky I've been. Ring or no

ring, I think I'm going to be playing it close to the hip from now on."                "You?

Be discrete? What's this world coming to?"                She

jumped up on him, putting her arms around his neck as her legs wrapped around

his midsection. "With age comes wisdom. And it comes with experience as well.

I've learned a lot in the past weeks, and it seems the more I learn, the more I

want to add to it. It's like my brain has been expanded to the size of a

warehouse."                He

looked her in the eyes. "I think we've both changed. But while you're getting

wiser and more mature, I seem to be regressing to something dark and

disturbing. I don't like it."                She

leaned back and with one hand, ran a finger down his chest. "But I do like it,

as long as it isn't trying to shove its cock into my mouth from the region of

my pelvis. Then it's a little much."                "That's

what I'm talking about. If my ancestor really went crazy and terrorized France

a few hundred years ago, then who's to say it won't happen to me?"                "No

one. So get over it. You need to get a grip on yourself and quit worrying what

might be, and make things happen that you want to happen. Sitting down and

worrying about it does absolutely no good to anyone. Especially me!"                She was

right, as she often was. That got him thinking about this Rasputin fellow. All

he really knew was from incidental information, and that made him out to be

some sort of insane, indestructible seer. He could see where he and Maggie had

something in common. But that was where it ended. If her grandmother was truly

the lost tsarina, she would have to be somewhere around one hundred and

thirteen years old, and Rasputin, if he were alive, much, much older. But then

she said that she never knew her grandfather. If so, then what of her mother?

How old was she? Apparently a lot older than Maggie thought, and probably a lot

older than her father knew. It was all very confusing. But then he thought of

Verona, and how old she was in real time versus her appearance. That made it

worse.                 "Whatcha

thinking silly man?" she said with a concerned face.                "Too

much I guess. I'm trying to figure out too much."                "All in

your head? I wouldn't bother trying. We need a few more facts before we can do

much more than surmise. I wish I knew what happened to Grandma Anna. She could

probably save us a lot of trouble."                "That's

the truth. I feel like, now that we're here, that I have no idea where to

start."                She

dropped down and patted the bed. "Rest first, think later."                He sat

down and kicked off his shoes. The bed was small, enough for one, but she

kicked off her shoes as well and snuggled in with him. They slept until

nightfall.                When

they awoke, they were faced with what to do with themselves. Both were feeling

refreshed, and in no way prepared to go back to sleep. And they were hungry.

"Father, what say we go out and see the night life?"               "Maggie,

as great as that sounds, I don't think I'd be allowed to take you into any

bars."                "I

suppose not. Then why don't we just go down and visit the Hermitage. It's down

towards the river, and it has as part of it the old Winter Palace."                "It

won't be open this late, will it?"                "No,

but it beats sitting around here, unless you'd like to do something else?" Her

intent was clear."Fine, we'll be tourists. I don't think I'm ready to get

intimate just yet, not until I think I can keep it together." So they got

dressed and walked from the church down towards the museum complex. There was a

light drizzle coming down, almost a mist, as they made their way down toward

the river. The traffic was still busy as cars darted to and fro, but there did

seem to be one which kept passing them by repeatedly. Edward noted it and

pointed it out to Maggie. She nodded.                "I

noticed it too. I told you I didn't trust that priest fellow. I think he's up

to something and he thinks we're here to investigate him. I wonder if he and

this car are connected?"                "I

can't say. Hey! What say we hide the next time we expect it to come around and

see what happens?"                "Sounds

like fun!" So on the next pass, they hid themselves and waited to see what

would happen. Sure enough, the car came around the corner and slowed to a near

standstill. A window came down and a head poked out, looking both directions up

and down the sidewalk.  There was some

shouting from inside the car before the window went up and the car drove off.                From

their perch on the roof of the building they were sitting on, the scene was

well observed. Edward snickered. "I don't think they expected us to vanish

under their noses."                Maggie

kissed his ear. "Nope! It was a good thing there was no one around to see us

scale the drain pipe."                "So

what do you think they want?"                She

shrugged. "I guess we could jump on the car and find out."                "And

attract attention to ourselves? No, I think we'll let them stew and continue on

our way."                "On the

rooftops?"                "Why

not? They afford an excellent view of the ground, and it'll still get us to our

destination. Just make sure we avoid all the wires cross the streets."                She

bowed. "After you."                They

made their way across the rooftops, jumping the side streets when the traffic

wasn't thick.  They finally stood on a

corner overlooking the Hermitage. It was lit with a thousand lights, taking

their breath away. "Just think father, grandmother lived in that once upon a

time. Can you believe it?"                He

pulled her close. "I think I can. After all, we freed Leonardo da Vinci from a

cryochamber of his own design, and we've battled against some pretty imposing

characters. We both descend from royalty in one form or another.  Heck, we just recently had an audience with

the pope! So I guess I'm not surprised by much anymore."                "Can we

go down and look at it?"                "Sure!

Why not? It'll give us a head's up for when we visit it during regular hours."                They

dropped to the sidewalk like panthers, stepping out into the light with bold

steps. They crossed the street, looking for the car that had been following

them, but it never made an appearance. The stepped onto the lighted grounds of

the complex and stood in awe of the scale of it. "I can't wait to see the

inside. I'd love to be able to walk the same halls that grandma did as a kid."                "I'm

with you. I'll buy tickets and we'll spend a day here."                They

walked in silence, viewing the palace with full blown wonder. Edward had heard

of it, but he had never had a reason to be interested before now. The size of

it was beyond belief. He couldn't even imagine a single family living in it,

though he knew there were plenty of palaces across Europe that were equally

impressive. He had always been a down to Earth kind of guy and such excess

seemed, well; excessive. But it was from a different time, and there were

plenty of modern buildings that were equally ostentatious.                 Their

travel brought them back around to their starting position. "Where to now

Mags?"                "I

don't know. Let's just walk." And so they did, heading back up the sidewalk at

street level back towards the church.                Not far

from the Hermitage they passed a tan stone building that looked a lot like all

the others, but there was one that had signs, in red, blazoned on the side.

They were advertising for a bar within the building, and Maggie saw them and

went nuts. "Look!"                Edward

smiled at the name. "Who knew?"                "Can we

go in?"                "You're

a little young I think. Besides, I don't know that our IDs will work for this."                "Can't

we try? I'd love to be able to tell the master that we sat and had a drink in a

place named after him!"