He responded by picking up a magazine and flipping through it. She sensed that he wasn’t concerned about the mission for now. She had leaned hard on him from the beginning, and now she felt some regret. She wanted to talk, but she didn’t know what to say. Sincerity seemed to be appropriate. “Are you afraid?” she asked somewhat meekly.
The question intrigued Nick. To him, it was the first sign of her being a person. “Yes.”
The one syllable left the conversation on her shoulders. “Please forgive me if I seem abrasive. I cannot afford any mistakes.”
Nick rubbed the cut above his eye. He didn’t need to say anything to get across his point.
“You have handled yourself well. I’m glad that you’re still here.” The words began to get jumbled in her head and came out wrong.
“Well, it was a good effort,” Nick replied.
“What was?”
“Your attempt at a real conversation without trying to teach me a lesson. Perhaps the first sign of you being a real person.”
Marina flared inside, but the truth of the statement kept her from lashing back. “I don’t know you, so it is hard to have a conversation.”
“Exactly,” responded Nick. “When you don’t know someone, you ask questions. Then listen.”
“Very well. What do you do?” The question was sincere, but it didn’t sound that way.
“Let me ask first. What do you do other than fight the rise of communism?”
“Oh. Well. I really don’t have a specific job. There are several situations in which I’m involved that provide for my survival.” Marina was truthful without revealing too much.
“Sounds like the black market.”
“Yes. A little bit of that.” She didn’t want to say any more, so she changed the subject. “What is it that you do?”
“Engineer, submersibles.”
“Now it makes sense.” The peek inside Nick’s world lightened her mood.
“That, and I was the last option they had.” He chuckled at the statement.
Marina also smiled. “And you fly gliders…”
“That was a hobby I picked up a few years back. There’s nothing hard about falling to the ground.”
Nick’s subtle humor relaxed her. It was the first time she could afford to like him. “You’ve never really been involved in what we call the spy game, have you?”
“No. It’s true that I was their last choice. There weren’t too many people with my qualifications. I’m sorry if that turns out to be a pain in the ass for you.”
“Like I said, you’ve done well. But I don’t understand how you can take things so casually. Do you know what will happen if we are found out?” Marina’s curiosity led to her sincerity, and her interest showed.
“Believe me. Since your friends smashed me in the head, I’ve gotten the message loud and clear. But if I were to worry about slipping up every second, it would ensure a blunder. I can’t afford to think about it.” Nick saw that Marina felt bad about his cut now that she knew a little about him. “I try to act like I would in the States, except to speak in a different language. That way I don’t feel so much like a spy.”
“The United States. I have always meant to go there, but I never seem to get the opportunity.”
The conversation slowly drifted from their situation into more personal things. Little by little each revealed more until they were speaking like friends. It was good therapy. They had been carrying around a lot of stress, and the talk lessened the burden. After two hours, they finally got to know each other a little.
It was five o’clock when Marina said that it was time for them to leave. Vlad was standing in the hallway with their coats. He had a sandwich packed for each and handed it to them after they put on their jackets. “Eat this on the way.”
Nick thanked him and went out to the car. Marina hesitated when saying goodbye. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I know you will,” reassured Vlad. “Remember, look after that man. He is good.”
“Perhaps.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a big squeeze. “Take care, you silly old man.” Then she left quickly before she cried.
Nick saw her coming and noticed right away that her mood had returned to business. He was disappointed, yet he knew that if they got too peachy, things could become sloppy. When Marina hopped in and drove, the two sat in silence.
More driving. Nick didn’t bother to pay attention this time. They made some small talk but nothing of any importance.
They arrived at the bus station at five to seven. Nick saw the other men standing outside, trying desperately to look inconspicuous. I can at least act that good, he thought. Marina spun the car around the nearest parking spot and stopped. She was annoyed because she lacked any arrangements for her car. It would be impounded by the time she returned. If she returned. It was something she had forgotten to prepare for, and she silently berated herself.
They walked over to the group, and magically Sasha appeared from around the corner. “We were waiting for you two. You are quite prompt. Not early. Not late. I like that.”
Neither responded.
Sasha was put off by there being no banter. “Well, anyway, we’ll load on the bus at the end of the terminal. It’s a charter, and we’ll be the only ones traveling. So since we’re all here, let’s not waste any more time.” He led the team, and they climbed aboard. With the entry of the last person, the doors shut, and the bus was rolling before they all got seated.
Sasha grabbed Nick by the arm as he went to sit with Marina. “I thought you didn’t like our little radio operator, huh?”
“I don’t like her. But at least I know her. To me, it’s like taking the side of a bear surrounded by wolves.” He removed Sasha’s hand from his arm and sat next to Marina.
The others sat by themselves in the bus. No one spoke except to bum cigarettes as the bus rolled down the poorly maintained roads in northern Russia. The destination sign on the top read Archangel.
Booker could smell the tempest. As the Toledo made good steam between the Arctic and the Norwegian Sea, he had two nostrils full of something hell-bent and coming their way. The weatherman had forecast a very mild storm, but he’d been in these waters for too many years to trust some satellite feed.
A rotation of sonar helicopters had been put into effect that morning. He had sent the crews out with a tongue-lashing about their lax attitude toward their work. It really wasn’t true, but it got the effect he needed. Now he called them all in and had the decks secured for rough weather.
The last one was landing as he watched the clouds accumulate in the distance. It was helicopter number 020. In its first sonar drop, the buoy had established a faint contact with a boomer heading slowly for the States. He pegged it as the Ohio. Booker radioed it in, anyway. There was no response from Sukudo, so he kept looking — until the storm came up on the horizon.
The ship’s XO brought him coffee. “All craft aboard and secure, Cap. Should we head for home?”
“Not today. Slow to one-third. When the storm hits, we’ll put her nose right in it and ride it out.”
“Aye, sir.” The XO returned to the bridge and conveyed the orders. The ship responded.
The Toledo’s wheelman glanced at the XO. “Do you really think there’ll be a bad storm, sir?”
“There better be, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
George had never played an operation like this. The farther north the plane flew, the farther he got away from any support system — a system that could have saved his ass in a time of trouble. This far into Russia he wouldn’t recognize a friendly agent if he hit him in the teeth. It was depressing. The last operation for George, and it would take a lifetime of experience to get through it.