And because he had been forced to deceive her and knew it was far too late to earn this woman’s love, he reached out and drew her into his arms.
It was all he meant to do. But suddenly he was kissing her with a punishing violence, an unquenchable thirst—
Adrienne broke free, breathing in gasps, the back of one hand pressed against her mouth. “Where’s Kurt? Where’s my husband?”
“Forgive me. I had no right—”
“What’s the meaning of this masquerade? Where is he?”
“Still in East Berlin. I never intended this to happen, but your husband left me no choice. At the moment, he’s probably still unconscious from a harmless drug.”
“What did you hope to gain, damn you?”
But even as she asked the question, things began to fall into place.
“My freedom,” he told her simply.
“And Kurt’s?”
“He’s safe enough. In a few minutes I’ll reveal my true identity and expose my brother’s attempt to coerce your husband into defecting. Don’t worry. He’ll be allowed to leave East Berlin. Neither the Soviets nor the East Germans would dare to forcibly detain a man of his prominence— especially after all the publicity.”
“I don’t understand. Why would the Soviets want to detain Kurt in the first place?”
“Not for his surgical skills, certainly. He’s the victim of Moscow-style propaganda,” Kiril said bitterly. “One of my KGB brother’s jobs involves defections. He was blackmailing your husband—something to do with when he was in Germany during the war. He was very young.”
“You had no right—”
“I had every right,” Kiril bristled. “It’s called self-defense. Your husband threatened to trade his knowledge of my defection plan for the blackmail Aleksei was holding over his head.”
He turned away from her. “I’m free,” he said, turning away from her. “By tomorrow, your husband will be too.”
“You could be wrong about that,” Adrienne said slowly. “You must have been under a great deal of stress. You were making split-second decisions. Hoping to keep me in the dark. Figuring out what to say to the press. Wondering and worrying about whether you could pull this off.”
All true, he thought. “What are you getting at?” he said tensely.
“Something I hope doesn’t occur to your KGB brother. What if he doesn’t let Kurt go? If Dr. Kurt Brenner’s own wife was fooled—and no one knows him better than I do—why not the rest of the world?”
“But—”
“I know what you’re thinking. I had so much champagne I couldn’t see straight—literally. But only a handful of people knew about that—mostly East German butlers in tuxedos. If my husband is kept in a semi-drugged state and paraded in front of the cameras—not too close, just close enough to make it look good—it’s conceivable that KGB apparatchiks like your brother could get away with it. Over time, they might even trust Kurt with a microphone and a rehearsed speech.”
She closed her eyes briefly, as if she could picture the scene. “Drugs and blackmail are a lethal combination,” she said grimly.
Kiril spread his hands in a gesture of futility. “You’re right, of course. The only thing I can do is hope that Aleksei isn’t as clever as you.”
And hope even more that Brenner’s parents realize that I never intended to harm their son—that he forced my hand.
A knock on the door.
“What will you tell them?” Adrienne whispered.
“What I lost the courage to tell you,” he admitted, “even after I was safely on the plane.”
The press, held in check by the American reporter, buzzed with impatience.
Dr. Max Brenner, grim and ashen, helped his wife enter the lounge’s private room. Pausing to clasp Adrienne’s shoulder for a moment, he closed the four of them inside.
Anna Brenner took her daughter-in-law’s hands in hers. “I cannot find words to express how sorry I am that my son has shamed you.”
“Don’t even try,” Adrienne whispered, squeezing Anna’s hands tightly.
Adrienne remained standing by the door, near-paralyzed by the decisions she knew she would have to make before she left this room.
Max Brenner held his wife’s arm—a useless restraint.
Shrugging it off, Anna Brenner made no effort to restrain her tears as she crossed the room toward her son. She moved slowly, her gait unsteady, not stopping even when she heard Adrienne burst into tears.
Kiril, having braced himself for this sad encounter, felt on the edge of tears himself. But as Anna Brenner approached him, he realized that he should have anticipated more than sadness. What he saw in the set of her mouth was a smoldering anger bordering on rage.
“Tell me to my face,” she said.
He heard the trace of an accent. Her voice, in sharp contrast to her anger, was anguished.
For a moment he lowered his eyes to gather his own strength.
In the next moment he was staring at a gold charm bracelet on her wrist—a tiny thermometer, a reflex hammer, a stethoscope, a head-mirror, each charm suspended from the bracelet by a gold link—
Except for one link with nothing hanging from it!
For a split second, Kiril felt as if a burst of electricity had coursed through his body—the second he knew with certainty that the link had once held the miniature gold scalpel he still wore around his neck.
A charm that held long-suppressed memories for them both… .
“Tell me how you can do this, Kurt. And then, tell me why.”
He looked into the face of the mother he had said goodbye to when he was four and had loved all his life. A face forever with him, forever lost.
“Are you going to tell me or not?”
He saw her mouth move, that was all. He had lost every sense but one. He stood like a statue, hungrily drinking in the sight of her.
“You are going to do this?” Her expression bordered on hatred.
And even though he knew the hatred was meant for Kurt Brenner, he accepted it as penance for the wrong he had done her.
Oh Anna, Anna. To have spent a lifetime of pain and guilt grieving over a hostage child not old enough to understand why you never came home. But when I was older, when I learned of Kolya’s injury, I knew you had a chance to raise him in a free country. And now you are suffering because, thanks to me, you think the beneficiary of that bitter sacrifice chooses to make his home in the Soviet Union. How can you endure it?
He saw no forgiveness in her eyes.
His eyes filled with tears. He forgave her instantly.
Did you think I would hate you for leaving me behind? I have had but one lifelong obsession—to find you again. To tell you that what you did was right. To set you free of a guilt you never should have had to bear.
But now the Soviets may learn that Kurt Brenner is Kolya Andreyev, citizen of the U.S.S.R., and they may never let him go. Forgive me for what I am about to say to the press. Then give me twenty-four hours and I will bring Kolya back to you. If I can…
Before Anna Brenner could say another word, Kiril walked past Adrienne and opened the door.
Reporters poured into the room, jockeying for position.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “my statement will be brief. I plan to practice heart surgery in the Soviet Union. My decision has been a long time in coming. It is final. I came here tonight because I want no doubt in anyone’s mind that the announcement I made in East Berlin several hours ago was true. There was no coercion. You asked about my immediate plans. They are to get back on the plane that brought me here so that I may begin my new life in Moscow.”