"You want Tamara's phone number?"
"No. Don't go away. And don't do anything crazy. All I ask is -- just let me make a few contacts." Khoklov began punching digits.
Starlitz walked by the sauna. Four slobbering, buck-naked drunks dashed out and staggered down the trail in front of him. Their pale sweating hides were covered with crumpled green birch leaves from Finnish sauna whisks. They plunged into the chilly sea with ecstatic grunts of ambiguous pain.
Somewhere inside, the New World Order comrades were singing Auld Lang Syne. The Russians were having a hard time finding the beat.
Raf was enjoying a snooze in the curvilinear Aalto barcalounger when Khoklov and Starlitz woke him.
"We've been betrayed," Khoklov announced.
"Oh?" said Raf. "Where? Who is the traitor?"
"Our superiors, unfortunately."
Raf considered this, rubbing his eyelids. "Why do you say that?"
"They liked our idea very much," Khoklov said. "So they stole it from us."
"Intellectual piracy, man," Starlitz said. "It's a bad scene."
"The Alands deal is over," Khoklov said. "The Organizatsiya's Higher Circles have decided that we have too much initiative. They want much closer institutional control of such a wonderful idea. Our Finnish hacker kids have jumped ship and joined them. They re-routed all the Suns to Kaliningrad."
"What is Kaliningrad?" Raf said.
"It's this weird little leftover piece of Russia on the far side of all three independent Baltic nations," Starlitz said helpfully. "They say they're going to make Kaliningrad into a new Russian Hong Kong. The old Hong Kong is about to be metabolized by the Chinese, so the Mafia figures it's time for Russia to sprout one. They'll make this little Kaliningrad outpost into a Baltic duty-free zone cum European micro-buffer state. And they're paying our Finn hacker kids three times what we pay, plus air fare."
"The World Bank is helping them with development loans," Khoklov said. "The World Bank loves their Kaliningrad idea."
"Plus the European Union, man. Euros love duty-free zones."
"And the Finns too," Khoklov said. "That's the very worst of it. The Finns have bought us out. Russia used to owe every Finn two hundred dollars. Now, Russia owes every Finn one hundred and ninety dollars. In return for a rotten little fifty million dollar write-off, my bosses sold us all to the Finns. They told the Finns about our plans, and they sold us just as if we were some lousy division of leftover tanks. The Finnish Special Weapons and Tactics team is flying over here right now to annihilate us."
Raf's round and meaty face grew dark with fury. "So you've betrayed us, Khoklov?"
"It's my bosses who let us down," Khoklov said sturdily. "Essentially, I've been purged. They have cut me out of the Organizatsiya. They liked the idea much more than they like me. So I'm expendable. I'm dead meat."
Raf turned to Starlitz. "I'll have to shoot Pulat Romanevich for this. You realize that, I hope."
Starlitz raised his brows. "You got a gun, man?"
"Aino has the guns." Raf hopped up from his lounger and left.
Khoklov and Starlitz hastily followed him. "You're going to let him shoot me?" Khoklov said sidelong.
"Look man, the guy has kept us his end. He always delivered on time and within specs."
They found Aino alone in the basement. She had her elk rifle.
"Where's the arsenal?" Raf demanded.
"I had Matti and Jorma take all the weapons from this property. Your mercenaries are terrible beasts, Raf."
"Of course they're beasts," Raf said. "That's why they follow a Jackal. Lend me your rifle for a moment, my dear. i have to shoot this Russian."
Aino slammed a thumb-sized cartridge into the breech and stood up. "This is my favorite rifle. I don't give it to anyone."
"Shoot him yourself, then," Raf said, backing up half a step with a deft little hop. "His Mafia people have blown the Movement's program. They've betrayed us to the Finnish oppressors."
"Police are coming from the mainland," Starlitz told her. "It's over. Time to split, girl. Let's get out of here."
Aino ignored him. "I told you that Russians could never be trusted," she said to Raf. Her face was pale, but composed. "What did American mercenaries have to do with Finland? We could have done this easily, if you were not so ambitious."
"A man has to dream," Raf said. "Everybody needs a big dream."
Aino centered her rifle on Khoklov's chest. "Should I shoot you." she asked him, in halting Russian.
"I'm not a cop," Khoklov offered hopefully.
Aino thought about it. The rifle did not waver. "What will you do, if I don't shoot you?"
"I have no idea what I'll do," Khoklov said, surprised. "What do you plan to do, Raf?"
"Me?" said Raf. "Why, I could kill you with these hands alone." He held out his plump, dimpled hands in karate position.
"Lot of good that'll do you against a chopper full of angry Finnish SWAT team," Starlitz said.
Raf squared his shoulders. "I'd love to take a final armed stand on this territory! Battle those Finnish oppressors to the death! However, unfortunately, I have no arsenal."
"Run away, Raf," Aino said.
"What's that, my dear?" said Raf.
"Run, Raffi. Run for your life. I'll stay here with your stupid hookers, and your drunken, naked, mercenary losers, and when the cops come, I'm going to shoot some of them."
"That's not a smart survival move," Starlitz told her.
"Why should I run like you? Should I let my revolution collapse at the first push from the authorities, without even a token resistance? This is my sacred cause!"
"Look, you're one little girl," Starlitz said.
"So what? They're going to catch all your stupid whores, the men and the women, in a drunken stupor. The cops will put them all in handcuffs, just like that. But not me. I'll be fighting I'll be shooting. Maybe they'll kill me. They're supposed to be good, these SWAT cops. Maybe they'll capture me alive. Then, I'll just have to live inside a little stone house. All by myself. For a long, long time. But I'm not afraid of that! I have my cause. I was right! I'm not afraid."
"You know," said Khoklov brightly, "if we took that speed launch we could be on the Danish coast in three hours."
Spray whipped their faces as the Alands faded in the distance.
"I hope there aren't too many passport checks in Denmark," Khoklov said anxiously.
"Passports aren't a problem," Raf said. "Not for me. Or for my friends."
"Where are you going?" Khoklov asked.
"Well," said Raf, "perhaps the Alands offshore bank scheme was a little before its time. I'm a visionary, you know. I was always twenty years ahead of my time--but nowadays maybe I'm only twenty minutes." Raf sighed. "Such a wonderful girl, Aino! She reminded me so much of ... well, there have been so many wonderful girls... . But I must sacrifice my habit of poetic dreaming! At this tragic juncture, we must regroup, we must be firmly realistic. Don't you agree, Khoklov? We should go to the one locale in Europe that guarantees a profit."
"The former Yugoslavia?" Khoklov said eagerly. "They say you can make a free phone call anywhere in the world from Belgrade. Using a currency that doesn't even exist any more!"
"Obvious potential there," said Raf. "Of course, it requires operators who can land on their feet. Men of action. Men on top of their profession."
"Bosnia-Herzegovina," Khoklov breathed, turning his reddened face to yet another tirelessly rising sun. "The new frontier! What do you think, Starlitz?"
"I think I'll just hang out a while," Starlitz said. He gripped his nose with thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, without another word, Starlitz tumbled backward from the boat into the dark Baltic water. In a few short moments he was lost from sight.