Chapter One

Involuntary Recruit

Madeline Worth wasn’t enjoying her $175,000, eight-month world cruise tour very much. When the luxury cruise ship with only four hundred passengers docked for three days at the Russian seaport of Saint Petersburg, nearly everyone went ashore with the official Russian guides and headed for the motor coach that would take them to the city and their less than luxurious hotel. Their arrival was to be celebrated by an extravagant cocktail party and equally flamboyant, eight course dinner prepared by a well-known French Chef.

Madeline, however, didn’t go with them. Although they were only in the second month of the cruise, he was already bored with the company and although she had known from the beginning that most guests on this sort of cruise were well to do older couples and not smart young people who were able to afford it in terms of time and money. She told the tour guide that she wasn’t up for the fancy feast and elected to stay on the ship until later that evening. Then went through security and headed down the gangway, looking for a decent restaurant that might offer some relief from the rich and fancy food served on board. A clean and well-polished black Mercedes taxi waited at the immigration booth and the driver told her in excellent English that he knew of three superb restaurants and would call ahead for make a reservation for her if she wished. Sitting comfortably in the warm, fine leather rear seat of the Mercedes 550S, Madeline told the driver to make a selection for her, asked if her attire would meet the restaurant’s dress code.

“Of course,” he replied with what Madeline thought was an Irish accent. “Relax and try a bit of this,” he said as he poured a light yellow sparkling wine into an elegant crystal tulip glass.

Madeline accepted the glass, sampled the aroma, but didn’t taste it. “What is it?” she asked, having experienced some really terrible wines in the past.

“This is the pride of Russia: Sovetskoye Shampanskoye,” he said. “In the old days, this was a great luxury. Like perhaps the French Roderer Cristal,” he added with a smile.

Madeline sipped a bit and found it better than she expected.

“Not Cristal,” she said. “But pretty good. Lighter, I’d say and with more carbonation.”

“Indeed,” said the driver, turning in his seat and start to pull the car out into the port traffic.

Madeline relaxed into the deep seat. Getting away from the ship and her fellow passengers was a good idea, she thought.