Shattered Trust

Chapter 1

Sergei Levitsky shuffled down the narrow aisle of the passenger airplane, lugging his suitcase behind him. He was almost late boarding and most of the passengers had already gotten seated. When he finally reached his seat, there was a man sitting in the aisle seat, leaving the window seat for him. He shoved his suitcase into the overhead compartment and squeezed his way past the other man and into the window seat. The plane taxied and took off only a few minutes later, and it was then that the adrenaline of getting through the airport and boarding the plane on time faded and he once again began to feel nervous. He was flying from Moscow to London, but it wasn't for a nice vacation. It was January 3, 1956, and he was being stationed in London as a resident spy for the KGB. He had joined the Army at the age of 18 just after the end of World War II with his good childhood friend, Nikolai Vasiliev. He and Nikolai trained together for about a year until Nikolai was forced to drop out after a near-death vehicle accident which resulted in his left leg needing to be amputated from the knee down. He still worked for the government, he helped design and draft propaganda posters. They had grown up extremely close.

Nikolai had an abusive, alcoholic mother and a father who was gone most of the time, usually out drinking and partying. When the two boys met when they were very young, only 8, and became friends almost instantly. Sergei's parents noticed Nikolai's odd behavior and the fact that he often had strange bruises and injuries and suspected he may have had home problems. They invited him to stay with them, and he often did. He would spend days on end at the Levitsky household, and his parents never even questioned where he was. By the time he was 10 he spent more time there than his actual home, and it stayed that way for most of their childhoods. Nikolai was like a brother to him. They never saw each other much anymore, they still wrote letters often. Sergei had transferred from the Army into the KGB about 6 years ago, in 1950. He had spent those years training, most of them in Moscow. He had traveled for some training, but the Lubyanka, the KGB's headquarters in Moscow, was where he spent much of his time. He had recently been promoted to Colonel and the commander of the Lubyanka and one of his most direct superiors, General Rurik Volkov, had been able to pull some strings and get Sergei stationed out of country sooner rather than later. The General was extremely complimentary of him and had told him that he was one of the most ambitious and intelligent men he had ever trained and that he had potential. Now he was being stationed out and it almost seemed surreal. He was going to be a resident spy. This was what he had trained for all these years and he was a mess of excitement and nerves. He thought that the hardest thing to get used to would be having a completely different identity. He received a new identity that he would be using during his time in London. His new name was Oliver William Wright, and he was meant to be an architect that has been traveling the world for the past few years and was now returning home.

Sergei was deep in thought as he gazed out the window at the clouds and chewed nervously at one thumbnail. He felt a tap on his shoulder and heard a "Excuse me sir" which snapped him out of it. He looked up to see a stewardess standing in the aisle holding a tray of drinks. "Could I interest you in a drink?" He cleared his throat and sat up. "Oh, uh- yes please, just some water would be good." She nodded and handed him one of the cups from the tray. He took it and placed it in the cupholder to one side. "Thank you." She nodded and moved on to the next row of people. Sergei once again fell into thought, and once again gazed out the window, almost drifting off a few times. He picked up his cup of water and took a sip but then just held it.

The plane hit an unexpected bout of turbulence and caused him to spill a bit of the water from the cup and onto his shirt. He let out a sigh and mumbled under his breath. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." At that moment a stewardess was passing by and he got her attention. "Excuse me, ma'am? Could I get a couple of napkins please?" She handed him some and began trying to rub the water out. The man next to him chuckled a bit. "Bloody turbulence." Sergei glanced over a bit. The man was a brit, and for a split second, Sergei forgot that he was supposed to be as well. He nodded and grinned. "Yeah." The other man shifted a bit to face him, and a moment later he held a hand out to shake his hand. "The name's Richard Miller. And you?" The man clearly wanted to make conversation, so he humored him and shook his hand. "Oliver Wright. A pleasure to meet you."

"So what are you doing in London?"

Sergei shifted a bit in his seat. "I've been traveling for work for a couple of months and I'm finally heading home." Sergei felt a bit odd telling this story, as it was his first time outside of training. Richard nodded and ran a hand over his slicked-back black hair. "Well, that's great, glad you finally get to go back home. I'm on my way back home as well, I've been in Moscow on...personal business." Sergei nodded. What an odd man.

They made small talk for a while, and 8 hours of sleep, talking, and thought, the plane landed at London-Heathrow Airport. It was roughly 3 PM, and he and Richard left the plan together. They shook hands and went their separate ways.

Sergei met a cab outside the airport which would take him to the house that would soon become his new home.