The Russian Deception

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Blowing snow swirled around three men crossing the courtyard of the domed Senate building in the heart of the Kremlin. Two wore the signature great coats and high peaked hats of generals in the Russian army. The third was a slim civilian dwarfed by the bulk of his two companions, dressed in a dark overcoat and a fedora. The snow was mixed with tiny bits of ice, the cold breath of another hard Russian winter. The footprints of the three men were the only marks in the pristine white blanketing the courtyard. It was late, the night lit by floodlights that shone through the falling snow and illuminated the colonnaded front of the Senate building.

Here in the inner sanctum of Russia's seat of power, guards were posted no matter what the weather. They snapped to rigid attention as the trio approached, then rushed to open the tall doors leading into the building. The three men stepped into the warmth and waited as the doors closed behind them. The vast reception foyer was deserted. At this time of night no one was about.

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