The Romanov Prophecy Page 0,25

stood up to the mark and prepared to shoot.

"Pull," the Russian yelled.

A second later, he scored a direct hit.

"Excellent," Hayes said. "With the sun going down, the shots are getting difficult."

Stefan Baklanov, the Heir Apparent, stood off to one side, his single-action shotgun open. Baklanov was a short man, balding and barrel-chested, with light green eyes and a thick Hemingway beard. He was nearing fifty, his face seemingly devoid of emotion and that worried Hayes. In the realm of politics, whether a candidate could actually govern was often immaterial. The question was whether or not itappeared he could lead. Though Hayes had no doubt that all seventeen members of the Tsarist Commission would eventually be bribed, their votes assured, a suitable candidate must still be presented for their perusal and, even more important, the damn fool had to be able to lead afterwardor at least effectively implement orders from the men who'd put him there.

Baklanov stepped up to the mark. Lenin and Khrushchev moved back.

"I am curious," Baklanov said in his baritone voice. "Will the monarchy be absolute?"

"No other way will work," Lenin said.

Hayes broke his gun and extracted the spent cartridge. Only the four men stood on the elevated brick terrace. The fir and beech groves beyond were dotted with autumn's copper. Past a pavilion, in the far distance, a herd of bison mingled on an open plain.

"Will I be given full command of the military?" Baklanov asked.

"Within reason," Lenin said. "This is not Nicholas's time. We have ... modern considerations."

"And will I control the army?"

"What would be your policies concerning the military?" Lenin asked.

"I was unaware I would be allowed my own policies."

The sarcasm was clear and Hayes saw Lenin did not appreciate it. Baklanov seemed to notice. "I realize, General, you believe the military is vastly underfunded and our defensive capabilities have been hampered by political instability. But I do not believe our destiny lies in a strong military. The Soviets bankrupted this nation by building bombs while our roads crumbled and people went hungry. Our destiny is to fulfill those basic needs."

Hayes knew this wasn't what Lenin wanted to hear. Russian line officers earned less each month than street merchants. Military housing had become no more than slum tenements. Hardware had not been maintained in years, the most sophisticated equipment outmoded to the point of obsolescence.

"Of course, General, certain funding allowances will have to be made to correct past deficiencies. We do need a strong military ... for defense capability." It was a clear signal that Baklanov was willing to compromise. "But I am wondering, will the royal property be restored?"

Hayes almost smiled. The Heir Apparent seemed to enjoy his hosts' predicament. The wordtsar was an ancient Russian corruption of the Latincaesar, and he thought the analogy quite appropriate. This man might just make an excellent Caesar. He possessed an unbridled arrogance that bordered on foolishness. Perhaps Baklanov had forgotten that the patience of Caesar's colleagues in ancient Rome eventually ran out.

"What did you have in mind?" Khrushchev asked.

Khrushchev--Maxim Zubarev--came from the government. He had a brash, swaggering way about him. Perhaps, Hayes often thought, it was compensation for a horse face and crinkly brown eyes, neither of which was flattering. He represented a sizable bloc of officials in the Moscow central bureaucracy concerned about their influence under a restored monarchy. Zubarev realized, and had expressed many times, that national order existed only because the people were tolerating governmental authority until the Tsarist Commission finished its work. Ministers wanting to survive that metamorphosis would have to adapt, and fast. Hence their need for a voice in a surreptitious manipulation of the system.

Baklanov faced Khrushchev. "I would require that ownership of the palaces possessed by my family at the time of the revolution be restored. They were Romanov property, stolen by thieves."

Lenin sighed. "How do you plan to maintain them?"

"I don't. The state will, of course. But perhaps we could enter into some sort of arrangement similar to the English monarchy. Most will remain accessible to the public,

entrance fees used for maintenance. But all Crown property and images will belong to the Crown, to be licensed to the world for a fee. The English royals raise millions each year that way."

Lenin shrugged. "I see no problem. The people certainly can't afford those monstrosities."

"Of course," Baklanov said, "I would reconvert the Catherine Palace at Tsarskoe Selo into a summer residence again. In Moscow, I would want exclusive control of the Kremlin Palaces, the Facets being the