“This is a dangerous game we’re playing, Orkhan. What if the Americans do render assistance, but the Russians respond with more force, and then the Americans even more still? The Turks may yet get involved, and then the Armenians. And the Turks and Americans are part of NATO and the Armenians and Russians and Kazakhs and—”
“Yes, yes, but—”
“—have their own mutual defense agreement. These agreements, they lock countries into war. And then maybe instead of a little skirmish at the border, you have NATO against Russia and their most devoted lackeys, and before we know it we are fighting World War III.”
“There is risk involved with any course of action we take, Mr. President. But right now the most immediate risk is that part of our nation is about to be overrun by Russia. Call the Americans. If you won’t, I will, but it would be better if the call came from you.”
58
Daria was in her Volkswagen Jetta, approaching the bridge that led from Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan, when her phone rang. Darkness had fallen. After driving around the outskirts of Bishkek, and then stopping to have dinner at a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant she’d never been to before — a place no one would think to look for her — she’d resigned herself to driving to Almaty, where she planned to spend the night in a hotel.
Behind her, Lila was sleeping in a rear-facing car seat that Daria had special ordered from a department store in Europe because she hadn’t been satisfied with the options in Kyrgyzstan. She answered quickly, before the ring tone could wake Lila.
It was John Decker.
“What have you got?” Daria kept her voice low.
“Kaufman just called.”
Decker explained that the CIA believed Mark had been abducted somewhere in Nakhchivan. But that no one knew for sure where he was now.
“This can’t be happening. We just had a kid, John. We were happy.” Daria stopped herself from saying anything more because she knew she’d start crying if she did.
“Mark’s a tough guy, Daria. I wouldn’t — I mean, I wouldn’t go panicking about this or anything.”
“I’m not panicking,” she snapped. “I’m worried, there’s a difference.”
“I didn’t mean panic, I just meant…anyway, there’s another angle to all this. Have you been listening to the news?”
“No.” Daria had kept the radio off so that it wouldn’t bother Lila.
Her spirits sank as Decker told her about the bombing in Tehran, and the Iranian response, and the Russian reaction.
She said, “And Mark is in the middle of this shitstorm. That’s wonderful. Just fucking wonderful.”
“It gets worse. Reading between the lines of what Kaufman told me, the CIA’s not going to just roll over and let the Russians, or the Iranians, invade Nakhchivan.”
“Of course they won’t. Crimea was one thing, but they’ll be afraid that if the Russians start having their way with the Azeris in Nakhchivan, next up will be the oil.”
“Whatever the reason—”
“Oh, that’s the reason.”
“Kaufman tells me he’s been ordered to assemble a team that can serve as a liaison between the Azeri ground forces and any, uh, any military assets we might just happen to have in the area.” Decker let that statement hang for a while, then added, “Should it come to that. I guess the situation is kinda fluid.”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If the Russians or the Iranians attack Nakhchivan, the Azeris would have a hard time holding them off, assuming they even dared to try.”
“One of the many reasons Mark needs to get the hell out of there.”
“Yeah, well, Kaufman — and I guess people way above him — are thinking if we could just give the Azeris a little boost, maybe it would turn out differently, you know?” Without waiting for Daria to answer, Decker said, “The thing is, they need at least one person on this team who’s fluent in Azeri, and there just aren’t many people on the CIA payroll who fit that bill, and I guess the CIA isn’t thrilled about tasking one of their own to something that, well…”
“Has the potential to be a serious cluster. So they want someone they can disown if things go south.”
“Something like that.”
“If communication is the issue, there are certainly plenty of Azeris who speak English.”
“Kaufman wants a translator he can trust. And he’s not going to trust someone that the Azeris serve up. Daria, listen, Kaufman asked me to ask you whether you’d do it.”
For a moment, Daria was dumbstruck, even though in retrospect she realized that, from the way Decker was talking, she shouldn’t have been. She’d sworn off that underworld of secret operations, sworn off contributing to deaths of others. She’d done too much of it already. “But…Kaufman hates me.”
“He doesn’t like you much, that’s for sure. But there aren’t that many people like you out there, Daria. You speak fluent Azeri. You worked for the CIA, but don’t now. All qualities they’re looking for.”
“The CIA fired me, Deck. They don’t trust me worth shit, and I don’t trust them.”
“Yeah, but Kaufman trusts you more than he would a random Azeri guy pushing some crazy Azeri agenda. And he thought that maybe — because by helping to hold off the Russians and the Iranians you’d be helping Mark — you might go for it. This could be your opportunity to get back on the Agency’s good side, Daria.”
“I don’t want to get back on their good side. I don’t give a crap about them. They’re a pack of amoral liars. If it was up to me, I’d shut them down.”
“I’m just the messenger, Daria.”
“Not to mention, I’ve got Lila.”
“I completely understand. So I’ll tell Kaufman no?”
Daria glanced back at Lila. She seemed content now, occasionally kicking her legs or raising her arms a bit. Leaving her at this stage in her life, even for a little while — Lila had never even fed from a bottle — was unthinkable. Helping out Ted Kaufman and the CIA, that too was unthinkable. As was helping Azerbaijan or the United States kill twenty-year-old conscripted Russian soldiers.
But so was not even lifting a finger to help Mark.
Ever since she’d received the text from him, Daria couldn’t help but think that she was letting him down in what could be his moment of greatest need. And by letting Mark down, was she also letting Lila down? If Mark were to — she tried not to even think the word die, but there it was — if that should happen, and she had done nothing to try to prevent it, how would her daughter judge her in the years to come? How would she judge herself? What wife would do such a thing?
Yes, the deal with Mark had been that, in the event he ever sent such a text, Daria was to focus on keeping herself and Lila safe. Protect what remained of the family. But Mark was part of the family. By helping him, she would be helping Lila.
“Daria, you still there?” asked Decker.
59
When General Dmitry Titov had arrived at the restaurant atop the Tabriz Hotel an hour and a half earlier, the dining room had been nearly full with dinner guests. But now it was empty save for himself, three of his men, two overly solicitous young waiters, and an officious pear-shaped supervisor in an ill-fitting suit who was bossing the waiters around.
Which meant it was almost time. Titov’s men had killed all the Azeris who’d stormed the sanatorium — except for one who may have escaped with Sava — and then had hastily cleared out all the weapons and communications equipment, anticipating that the operation would be approved for tonight. As soon as it had been, Titov had come to the Tabriz.