Traffic from Minsk to the Ukraine was light, except that the occasional heavily loaded trucks slowed him down. After crossing into the Ukraine, Chefman stopped at Chernihiv for gas. He remembered that Chernihiv is one of the oldest cities in the Ukraine, and was the subject of a treaty with his own Byzantine Romani in the early 10th Century. At the time, it was populated by Vikings, who were known as the Rus. During the war he had visited a famous Viking burial mound called The Black Grave along with some of his wartime comrades. As far as the Germans were concerned, the fact that Vikings had occupied the area meant that it should naturally become part of their state, since they regarded themselves as Nordic. He was interested in the fact that certain of the grave goods were discovered to have been Byzantine.
Once the car was filled, he drove the 100 kilometers to Kiev, uneventfully. He had no idea where to start looking for Lena, but he guessed that the older part of the city on the West bank of the Dnieper would be a good place to poke around and ask questions. He parked the car near Maidan Nezalezhnosti (Independence Square), and got out for a look around. After a while, he decided to check into the Premier Palace Hotel in the old city, on Shevchenka Boulevard. He liked old hotels that had been restored. It would also be smart to have the car parked in a hotel garage instead of where it could be seen on the street by watchful police.
After checking in, he took a seat at the lobby bar, ordered a kvas with turnip juice, and watched the guests and staff come and go. He'd learned over the centuries to spot the ones who might help him find something for some cash "under the table."
He didn't have to wait long. A hotel manager was walking toward him, with two bellmen in tow. And he bore the distinctive sign of a man from LETSH: a tiny "L" tattooed on his left ear lobe. Chefman had seen it on the man he'd eliminated in Belarus. Things were getting interesting.
Once the car was filled, he drove the 100 kilometers to Kiev, uneventfully. He had no idea where to start looking for Lena, but he guessed that the older part of the city on the West bank of the Dnieper would be a good place to poke around and ask questions. He parked the car near Maidan Nezalezhnosti (Independence Square), and got out for a look around. After a while, he decided to check into the Premier Palace Hotel in the old city, on Shevchenka Boulevard. He liked old hotels that had been restored. It would also be smart to have the car parked in a hotel garage instead of where it could be seen on the street by watchful police.
After checking in, he took a seat at the lobby bar, ordered a kvas with turnip juice, and watched the guests and staff come and go. He'd learned over the centuries to spot the ones who might help him find something for some cash "under the table."
He didn't have to wait long. A hotel manager was walking toward him, with two bellmen in tow. And he bore the distinctive sign of a man from LETSH: a tiny "L" tattooed on his left ear lobe. Chefman had seen it on the man he'd eliminated in Belarus. Things were getting interesting.
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