“We’ll run the requisite background checks and—”
“He’s fine,” Christine interrupted sharply.
Her tone wasn’t lost on the deputy director, and his jaw muscles worked slightly as he prepared to respond.
Rolow interjected, “I’m sure there won’t be an issue. We’ll find a good fit for Harrison within the agency, giving him the opportunity to help track Mixell down.”
5
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
Captain First Rank Aleksandr Plecas stared out the passenger window as his car passed over the Moskva River, winding through Moscow. Dark clouds drifted slowly over the city, casting a gray pall over the skyline and further darkening Plecas’s mood. His driver, a starshina second class, who had met Plecas at Kubinka Air Base outside the city, had tried to engage the senior officer in conversation, but had grown quiet after realizing Plecas wasn’t in a talkative mood.
They made a quick stop at Hotel Bogorodskoe to drop off Plecas’s luggage, then the car pulled up to the entrance of Blokhin National Medical Research Center. Before stepping from the sedan, Plecas dismissed his driver. He would not need him again until Sunday evening for the return trip to Gadzhiyevo Naval Base.
Plecas entered the lobby and took the elevator to the fifth floor. He stopped at the nurses’ desk, asking them to inform Dr. Vasiliev that he had arrived, then continued down the corridor. After passing several rooms of patients, some with visiting family members, he reached his ten-year-old daughter’s room. He pushed the door open slowly to find Natasha in bed, her eyes closed, as a clear liquid dripped from an IV bag through a needle inserted into her arm.
Tatiana was seated in a chair beside the bed, holding Natasha’s hand. His wife looked up as he entered the room, and the physical and emotional exhaustion were evident in the dark circles under her eyes and her slouched shoulders. There was an empty chair beside her, which he sank into. He said nothing as he examined his daughter more closely. She was even paler and thinner than before; the radiation and chemotherapy had failed.
“How is she doing?”
“She’s resting comfortably now. She was up most of the night in pain, but they increased her medication this morning. She’s been asleep most of the day. I should wake her — she’s been looking forward to seeing you.”
Plecas put his hand on Tatiana’s arm. “Let her sleep. We can talk when she awakens.”
“What is there to talk about?” Tatiana’s voice turned cold. “About the treatments that have failed? About how long she has left to live?”
“There is always hope,” Plecas replied.
“There is no hope,” Tatiana said. She looked away, but not before Plecas noticed tears forming in her eyes.
He placed his arm around his wife and pulled her close. She turned toward him and pressed her face against his shoulder, and he stroked her hair gently. “I made an appointment for this evening with Natasha’s doctors. I asked the nurse to let them know I’ve arrived. Hopefully they will have good news.”
The sound of her parents’ voices must have awakened Natasha, because she began to stir. Her eyes opened, but it took a moment for the glassy look to fade. She turned to the side and, upon seeing her father, broke into a wide smile.
“Papa!”
Natasha’s voice was weak, but her excitement was evident.
Plecas took her small hand in his. Her skin felt cold and damp.
“You made it!” she said.
“Of course, I did. There was no way I could deploy without spending more time with you.”
“I’m so glad you came.”
“How do you feel?”
“Much better today. I had a good night…” She looked at the clock on the wall. “… a good day’s sleep.” She forced a smile. “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters!”
Plecas gently squeezed his daughter’s hand and she responded in kind, although there wasn’t much strength in her fingers.
They talked for the next hour, about nothing in particular or of importance, with the discussion jumping around as Natasha’s thoughts flitted from topic to topic. Eventually, she brought up her favorite pastime.
“When you return from deployment, it will still be winter. By then I’ll be healthy and we can go ice skating together.”
Plecas hadn’t discussed Natasha’s prognosis with her, and neither had Tatiana to his knowledge. But there was no doubt she understood the outcome if her deteriorating condition wasn’t reversed. Through the entire ordeal, she had remained optimistic, holding up better than either parent.
“Yes. All three of us,” Plecas replied. “On the pond behind our house.”
Natasha smiled. “I can’t wait.”
Plecas wondered whether his daughter would even be alive when he returned from deployment. The doctors had given her four to six months if an effective treatment wasn’t found, and he’d be back in three. But the timeline was difficult to predict with certainty, and her cancer might progress faster than expected.
With Kazan preparing for her first deployment, Plecas had considered being relieved of command so he could spend more time with his family. Although his superiors sympathized with his predicament and said a relief could be arranged, they highly preferred he remain aboard for the submarine’s first deployment. He was the most experienced submarine captain in the Russian Navy, specifically given command of Kazan for its first deployment.
Additionally, command of Kazan—Russia’s newest nuclear-powered submarine — was a prestigious assignment, and Plecas worried that he might lose the accompanying clout. There were far more children with cancer than beds at Blokhin, and if there were any chance of a cure, he had to ensure Natasha was admitted. That meant remaining in command of Kazan, and unfortunately, taking her out for her first deployment.
Natasha grimaced suddenly.
“Are you in pain again?” Tatiana asked.
“A little.”
“I’ll call the nurse.”
“No, not yet. The medicine makes me groggy and papa just got here.”
“Let me know if it gets worse,” Tatiana said.
They talked for a while longer, her hand in her father’s, but her muscles gradually tensed as her discomfort grew, and perspiration began to dot her forehead.
When her breathing turned shallow, Tatiana said, “I’m going to call the nurse now, okay?”
Natasha nodded.
Tatiana pressed the attendant button and a nurse arrived. After evaluating Natasha’s condition, the nurse increased the pain medication.
Natasha’s muscles relaxed and her breathing slowed.
Plecas leaned forward. “We are going to make you well.”
Natasha smiled. “I know that, papa.”
Tatiana suddenly stood and left the room without a word. Plecas wondered how much more his wife could handle. Dealing with the death of a child was difficult enough, but it was even more gut-wrenching to watch her life fade away day by day.
He caressed his daughter’s hand as her eyes began to glaze over again. Her eyelids slowly closed and she drifted off to sleep. Tatiana eventually returned, slumping into the chair beside him. He held her hand in silence as they waited.
A half-hour later, an intern stepped into the room. “Dr. Vasiliev will meet with you now.”
Plecas and his wife entered a conference room filled with a half-dozen men and women — the team assigned to care for their daughter.
Dr. Vasiliev greeted Plecas and his wife warmly, then gestured to two vacant chairs. After they took their seats, Vasiliev introduced the members of his team, with each doctor specializing in a different aspect of Natasha’s care.