"Nothing."
He faced the camera and continued:
"He's the Principal."
March 28, 1998, 9 PM, London, a detention center.
Andrei sat on an iron-framed bed, staring at the closed door.
He didn't know where he was, didn't know what had happened, didn't know why these people had arrested him.
The door opened.
A person in uniform entered, holding a tablet.
"Mr. Andrei, someone sent you a video."
Andrei took the tablet and opened it.
On the screen was a man— in his fifties, unshaven, eyes red and swollen— facing the camera, said:
"Andrei, your dad is in Moscow. Your mom is lying to you. You deserve to know the truth."
He was stunned.
The man continued:
"Your father's name is Victor Petrovich. Former KGB. Kryuchkov's deputy. After the Soviet Union collapsed, he took over the KGB's overseas assets. He—"
He paused.
"He's the Principal."
The video ended.
Andrei sat there in a daze, staring at the now-dark screen.
The Principal.
That name, he had heard it before.
