“Alright, what has happened?” He looked squarely at Steve.
“Something of a disaster,” said Steve.
“I gather that,” said Borovik.
“Stokes convinced the owner of the TV network we were working with that it was in his best interests not to transmit the broadcast.”
“Your country’s become like ours,” said the general. He paused while his wife came in with a tray bearing three glasses of tea, some toast, and preserves. She placed it on the table between them. “Thank you, Katya,” said Maya. The general said nothing, waiting impatiently for his wife to leave. “So continue,” he said to Steve.
Steve nodded. “After we were blocked on TV, we tried to spread the story on the social media, but then our government’s cyber unit teamed up with yours.”
“I know, I heard about that,” Borovik frowned, “Another triumph for my bastard ex-son-in-law.”
Steve looked puzzled.
“General Abramovich,” said Borovik, taking a sip of tea. “He’s the one who talked Kozlov into interfering with your elections in the first place. He also deserted my daughter and her two children.”
“I see,” said Steve, beginning to feel like he was in the middle of a Russian TV series.
“But, General, I did fulfill my promise not to reveal your name to anyone as a source for some of our information.”
The general nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “I respect you for that. I thought giving you the information might at least weaken Kozlov, but no.” He shrugged. “That shit is stronger than ever.”
“We’ve got a much more urgent problem,” said Steve.
The general put down his tea, looked at Steve, and waited.
“Stokes has demanded the names of Russians who gave the CIA information about Kozlov’s meddling in the American elections,” said Steve. “Stokes’s next move will be to turn over those names to Kozlov.”
“Why does that concern me?” said the general. “I was certainly against that idiotic hacking program. But I never gave information to the Americans.”
“I did,” said Maya.
“You spied for the Americans?”
Maya nodded.
The general raised his eyebrows. “You? The daughter of one of our great heroes? You gave information about our military?”
They’d gone too far, Steve suddenly realized. Their plan wasn’t working. They were about to be thrown out by the general. Or worse: denounced to the FSB.
“It was partly for Sonya,” said Maya. “The Americans got me the medicines; otherwise, my daughter would not be alive today. But I also did it because I was against Kozlov – against what he was doing.”
This was the key moment, thought Steve. “General,” he said quietly, “you are also against what Kozlov is doing. You also gave me the most sensitive information about his personal holdings. He would certainly call that treason. But you are acting for the good of Russia.”
The general paused, then shook his head, and nodded. “Kozlov is the traitor.” he said. “He will destroy our country.” He looked at Maya. “Your father might not have approved of what you did,” he said. “But he is not here. I am.”
He looked again squarely at Steve. “How much time do we have?”
“It’s all guesswork,” said Steve. “But I figure Kozlov will get the information around 5:00 p.m. or so this afternoon. The FSB and border control should have it within an hour after that. You certainly know much better than I how efficiently they work.”
“Your estimate’s probably right,” said Borovik.
“As you know, for Maya to leave Russia she will need some kind of official pass – special permission – particularly as a military officer trying to get out with all her family.”
“Your children also?” said Borovik.
Steve thought, what if the general knew that her son was also my child?
“And my mother,” said Maya.
“That could certainly raise eyebrows,” said Borovik.
“We developed an idea on the way over here,” said Maya. “I have an aunt who emigrated to Mexico twenty years ago – to Cuernavaca. She married a Mexican diplomat who was based in Moscow. Say, I just got word that she has had a stroke, and has only a few days left. I want to take her sister, my mother, and my children with me to bid her farewell. We are the only family she has.”
“All very moving,” said the general.
“And part of it is true. I do have an aunt in Cuernavaca. The copy of the email to me can be easily arranged. So I am in distress. It is a weekend. All the immigration offices are shut. I come to you as an old friend of the family. And you very kindly write me the necessary pass.”
“Won’t you need a visa from Mexico?” asked Borovik.
“Not necessary for Russian citizens,” said Maya. “As long as you have a Russian passport. And we do. I already have one, and I got ones for the kids and my mother when I took them to Copenhagen last year.”
The general looked at Maya, and shook his head, “Such a schemer. Who would have guessed? We should have had you on the army general staff.”
“So you will do it?” said Maya.
The general shrugged. “I will write an official pass. If anyone gets suspicious and calls, I will say that, of course, I wrote it. How was I to know you were a spy? I could never have expected it. I have known you since you were born. Your father was an old friend of mine.”
“But,” he said grimly, “if something happens, if you are caught, you understand I can do nothing to save you. To your dying day, and that may not be far away, you simply tell them how you came to me with your story about your sick aunt and I fell for it. There is no reason for them not to believe it. Those pricks would not dare come after me as a traitor.”
“I do not know how to thank you,” Maya brushed her hand over her eyes. “I do not…”
“There is nothing to thank me for,” said Borovik, looking very uncomfortable. “I do it for your father. Now make your reservations, so I can write the letter.”
After wiping her eyes, Maya called Aeroflot to book tickets for herself and her family to fly to Mexico City that evening. Borovik then went to his basement office and wrote and signed a special authorization for her, her children, and her mother to leave the country temporarily because of “an urgent family emergency.”
Maya’s eyes were brimming again as the general handed her the document.
Borovik looked at her and Steve; his face grew livid. “This is all outrageous,” he pounded the arms of his chair. “After all we have been through, after Stalin and Hitler, after all that, we are still living in such fear. And of what? Of two great thieves: Kozlov and Stokes. It is shameful!” He sank into his chair, breathing heavily.
Steve decided it was time to unveil the audacious plan he’d been evolving since he left London. “General,” he said leaning forward, “Perhaps there is a way. It’s just a chance, but it could work.” The general looked on skeptically as Steve continued with mounting excitement. “We’ll need daring and we’ll have to improvise as we go, but we could bring it off. Why not? The point is there is a growing dispute between Stokes and Kozlov that we could use to defeat them. It’s nothing to do with the Ukraine or Syria. It’s over money.”
“As befits the two of them,” said Borovik. “You’re talking about the joint real estate investment they made in Texas six years ago.”
“Exactly,” said Steve. “It was part of the information you turned over to me last week. At the time, there were so many major issues, that it got lost in the details.”
“A joint investment?” asked Maya.
“Stokes and Kozlov each have offshore companies,” said Steve. “They decided to combine two of them to form a Panamanian corporation called Quantum. Their idea was to invest in the booming real estate market in Texas. According to documents the general’s hackers found, Stokes wanted to keep his connection to Quantum as confidential as possible. So he agreed that formally its administration would be controlled by Kozlov. That’s where Stokes made his big mistake.