The Chaika got up close behind them, and the security driver sped up until another Chaika appeared in front of the Ford and boxed them in. The American driver pulled out, and the three cars continued their dangerous game, weaving through central Moscow and down Kalinin Prospect.
Within ten minutes the Ford reached the embassy and shot past the militia booth, crossed the sidewalk, and entered the gates. The Chaika behind them sounded its horn, and the man in the passenger side put his arm out the window and extended his middle finger. The security men in the front of the Ford returned the salute of the KGB men in the Chaika, while Hollis returned the salute of the Marine watchstanders. The Ford went around the flagpole and stopped at the entrance to the chancery. Hollis, Lisa, and Alevy piled out. Alevy said, “No offense, but you both smell.”
Lisa said, “I think I’ll go and shower.”
“Not a half-bad idea.”
Hollis said to Alevy, “Get a call through to the Mozhaisk morgue. Tell them not to wait for an escort and have them drive the body to Sheremetyevo airport freight terminal. Send a consular officer to the airport to take charge of the remains.” He took the manila envelope from his briefcase. “Here’s all the paperwork, including the export permit and a charge for the coffin that they want paid before they’ll ship it out.”
“I thought you were in the damned coffin. I called the Soviet Foreign Ministry, the KGB—”
“That’s like dialing M for murder, Seth.”
“Where did you spend the night?”
“Is that a professional question?” Hollis inquired.
Lisa interjected. “We hid out in a village called Yablonya—”
“Hid out? From whom?”
Hollis answered, “From a guy named Burov. KGB type. Colonel.” Hollis described him. “Know the man?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask around. Okay, please be in the sixth-floor safe room in thirty minutes. Both of you. Can you do that?”
Lisa said, “I need an hour.” She turned and walked into the chancery.
Alevy stared at Hollis, who stared back. Alevy said, “You know, it was my fault for letting you take her along.”
“I think I cured her of her fascination with espionage.”
“On the contrary, I think. Did you get along all right?”
“She was an asset.”
“Maybe I should recruit her,” Alevy said.
“She has what it takes. And we have no female types now.”
“I’ll wire Langley. What was her strongest asset?”
“Humor in the face of danger.”
“We must discuss this soon.”
“Fine. But not out in the open where the directional microphones can eavesdrop.” Hollis turned and walked into the chancery. He went through the lobby and came out onto the rear terrace. She was there waiting for him. She said, “What were you talking to Seth about?”
“Your assets.”
They walked on the birch-lined path beside the quadrangle toward her unit. She said, “I wondered if I’d see this place again.”
“No more bitching about your unit.”
“No, sir. I love my bathroom. Kiss the tile.”
Hollis looked out on the quadrangle. John Uhlman from the consular section was teaching his son how to ride a two-wheeler. The scarecrow had been built in their absence, and there were three oddly shaped pumpkins at its feet. Hollis observed, “No corn stalks.”
She followed his gaze. “No corn stalks.”
“Well…” He glanced at his watch.
“Last chance for a pear.”
“I’ll take one.”
She held out the bag. “Take the honey too. I’m off sugar.”
“I’m off too, sweets.”
They both smiled. Finally Lisa asked, “How do we stand?”
Hollis put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
“Is that an answer?”
“How do you stand with Seth?”
“It’s over.”
“Then what’s he angry about?”
She threw the bag over her shoulder. “Well, think about it.” She turned and walked down the path.
Hollis stood awhile, then made his way across the quadrangle.
13
Seth Alevy said to Charles Banks, “John Uhlman from the consular section is headed for Sheremetyevo to take care of the business that Colonel Hollis did not complete.”
Hollis noticed that Alevy was talking mostly to Banks, ignoring him and Lisa.
Hollis saw that Banks was wearing his Sunday best, though since it was Sunday in Moscow, everyone else was dressed casually. Hollis had showered and put on jeans and a flannel shirt. Alevy wore pleated slacks and a V-necked sweater. Lisa, he thought, looked good in a white turtleneck and tight jeans, though she was somewhat cool to him. Hollis sat at the far end of the conference table in the ambassador’s safe room; Banks sat at the opposite end, and Lisa and Alevy sat in the center facing each other. Hollis noticed for the first time a framed piece of calligraphy hanging on the wall and read it:
The issues of diplomacy are of ever greater importance, since a stupid move could destroy all of us in a few minutes.
LORD HUMPHRY TREVEYAN, 1973
Hollis thought that Banks and the ambassador would probably prove that true in the next few weeks.
Alevy continued, “Obviously we can’t retrieve the rented Zhiguli, so we called the Intourist Hotel and told them it was broken down at Gagarin railroad station. We’ll get a hell of a bill for that.”
Hollis knew that Alevy was not in the least interested in these petty administrative matters, but Charles Banks was. It was the nature of the diplomat to never break a local rule or offend a host country. Even if you were handing the foreign minister a note with a declaration of war on it, you were polite about it. Hollis perceived that Alevy was trying to make points with Banks at Hollis’ expense, so Hollis thought he’d be helpful for a change. He said, “The car needs a lot of body work too.”
Banks turned to him. “Body work?”
“Just hit a tree. Damage to the tree was minimal.”
“Good.” Banks cleared his throat and said, “So…” He looked at Lisa, then back to Hollis, and he put a stern tone in his voice. “Neither of you returned to your quarters last night, and neither of you informed this embassy of your whereabouts. That is contrary to regulations as well as a dangerous breach of security, not to mention the element of personal danger to yourselves.” Banks looked from one to the other. “Do either of you have an explanation for this? Miss Rhodes?”
Lisa replied, “We were together obviously. We were unable to finish our business in Mozhaisk by nightfall. There was no room at the inn — actually there was no inn — so we spent the night on a kolhoz—that’s a collective farm, Charles. There was no telephone there.”
Banks said, “I appreciate the special conditions that exist in the countryside here. But it is your obligation to keep in contact with this embassy, not vice versa.”
Hollis spoke. “As the senior person, I’ll take responsibility for the breach.”
Banks nodded, satisfied.
Alevy said, “I don’t quite understand how you two got such a late start and failed to complete this routine assignment before dark.”
Hollis replied, “Lot of paperwork involved, Seth. Drop it.”
But Alevy continued, “How did you wind up on a collective? Why didn’t you call from Mozhaisk?”
Hollis looked directly at Alevy. “I don’t think Mr. Banks wants to be bored with those details.”
Alevy nodded. “Right. Perhaps later you can bore me.” He looked at Lisa a moment, then turned back to Banks. “Sir?”
Banks addressed Lisa. “The ambassador is writing an official letter of condolence to Mr. Fisher’s parents. I would like you to write a personal note indicating that you were involved with the disposition of the remains and the personal effects and so forth. And that the Soviet authorities assured you that Gregory Fisher died instantly and suffered no pain and so forth. There are sample letters on file.”