by Glenn Meade
Braun didn’t smile back. “Tell me what you have for me.”
“That’s what I like about you, Mr. Braun. Everything is click-click. Direct and to the point. Busy man. Places to go, things to do.” Lombardi handed across the envelope. “It’s all written up the way you wanted it. Nothing much new, except the girl had a visitor.”
“Who?”
“A guy. Stayed one night at the Carlton, off Lexington Avenue. Name of Massey. Took the girl there, too. She left after a couple of hours. That’s all I know.” Lombardi nodded toward the envelope. “It’s all in there, anyway. Including the pics.”
Braun opened the envelope and examined the contents briefly, looking at the photographs, then closed it again and put his hand in his inside pocket, took out another envelope, and handed it across. “For you.”
“Amigo, I thank you from the bottom of my black heart.” Lombardi took the envelope in his fat hand and looked at Braun. “So what’s with the Russian broad?”
“Who says she’s Russian?”
“Mister, I’ve had my guys watching her for over two months. You think I don’t learn nothing?”
Braun smiled, a cold smile, but didn’t reply. Lombardi’s fat hand stuffed the envelope into a drawer and banged it shut. “Okay, you pay the tab, so we play it your way. As long as I don’t get no nosy feds crawling all over me.”
“You won’t. Just keep watching her.” Braun finished his drink and stood. “It’s been a pleasure doing business, Lombardi.”
“Sure.”
Lombardi looked up at his visitor’s scarred face. “Seeing as I got to keep you happy, you want a girl before you go? No charge for the hick from Illinois if she’s what you want.”
This time Braun smiled back. “Why not?”
• • •
It was almost ten when Braun arrived back at the one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and let himself in, leaving the lights off as he closed the door. The curtains were open, and he went into the kitchen to the refrigerator and picked a bottle of beer off the shelf.
As he came back into the front room he saw the man sitting in the shadows by the window. He wore an overcoat and hat and smoked a cigarette, a full glass in his hand. In the faint wash of light from the windows, Braun saw the grin on the man’s face.
The man said, “Working late, Gregor?”
Braun let his breath out and said, “What the . . .! I wish you wouldn’t do that, Arkashin.”
The man named Arkashin laughed and stood up. “I helped myself to some of your excellent Scotch. I hope you don’t mind.”
Feliks Arkashin was short and stocky. His fleshy cheeks were limp and sagging, small eyes hard in a weathered face. It wasn’t a handsome face; there was a large dark mole on his left jaw, tufts of hair sprouting from the blemish, and his skin had the texture of leather. At forty-eight he was an attaché with the Soviet Mission to the United Nations in New York. In reality he held the rank of major in the KGB. Braun looked at him.
“You’re taking a risk coming here. You could have been followed.”
Arkashin smiled. “They tried as usual. And as usual I lost them in the subway. A wily old fox will always lose the hunter, my dear Gregor. Besides, I quite like the thrill of the chase.”
Braun crossed to the window. The lights of New York dazzled him beyond the glass, and as he stood there he drank from the bottle and smoked a cigarette.
“So why the visit?”
“You have the report on the woman?”
Braun raised his eyebrows, a trace of anger in his voice. “Is that all? You could have waited until you picked it up from the drop tomorrow.”
“There’s been a directive from Moscow on the woman in today’s diplomatic bag. I need to make a decision tonight.”
Braun looked back, surprise on his face. “What directive?”
“Let’s hear your report first, Gregor.”
Braun told him, and Arkashin scratched the mole on his jaw and raised his eyebrows.
“Interesting. You trust Lombardi?”
“I’d sooner trust Lucifer himself. Moscow may secretly contribute to his union, but he has his fat fingers in a lot of pies, most of them illegal. And that’s dangerous.”
Arkashin shrugged. “We have no choice but to use him. If the Americans discovered us mounting our own surveillance operation, there would be the devil to pay. This way, we keep everything at arm’s length. Besides, Lombardi owes us. Without our help he’d still be a union steward.”
“So who do you think this man Massey might be?”
Arkashin put down his glass. For a long time he seemed to have difficulty making up his mind about something, then he said, “Who knows? The photographs Lombardi’s men took are not the best quality, amateurish really, but they may help. I’ll have our people check to see if any of our station officers recognize him.”
“And in the meantime?”
“In the meantime you tell Lombardi you want the woman watched more closely. A twenty-four-hour operation. And tell him you may have a job for him soon that will pay well.” Arkashin grinned. “I’m sure Lombardi will appreciate that.”
“What sort of job?”
Arkashin looked across. “You know Moscow doesn’t like it when the Americans slight us, Gregor. We need to let them know they can’t make fools of us.”
“Is she that important?”
“No, but it’s a question of principle.”
“So what does Lombardi have to do?”
Arkashin said, “When the time is right we’re going to take the girl back to Moscow. We’ll need Lombardi to kidnap her. You think he’ll do it?”
“He’ll do anything you tell him for money. But taking her back to Moscow is going to be difficult.”
Arkashin put down his glass and stubbed out his cigarette. “I agree. But Lombardi controls the docks. Getting her on board a Soviet vessel shouldn’t be difficult. But we have another option should it prove impossible.”
“And what’s that?”
“A repeat performance of the one you carried out so well in Switzerland.” Arkashin smiled. “You kill her.”
* * *
PART THREE
* * *
FEBRUARY 1–22, 1953
15
* * *
NEW HAMPSHIRE
FEBRUARY 1
She saw the lake and the wooden house as they came around the bend in the narrow private road. There was snow on the mountains in the distance, and the forested scenery looked remarkably wild and beautiful, like a Russian landscape.
When Slanski halted the car, Massey opened the door for her and took her suitcase. “Let’s get you settled, then I’ll fill you in on what happens next.”
Anna looked out at the water and the forest landscape and said to Slanski, “Jake said it was pretty here, but I never expected it would look like a part of Russia.”
Slanski smiled. “There used to be parts around here where Russian was spoken. Small communities of fur trappers and hunters mostly, who came over in the last century. I guess the scenery made them feel at home.”
He took them inside and showed Anna to a small bedroom upstairs. “This is your room. It’s a bit basic, I’m afraid, but it’s warm and reasonably comfortable. When you’ve finished unpacking I’ll be downstairs.”
She noticed Slanski looking at her, his eyes faintly lingering on her face a moment, and then he left. There was a single bed and a chair, and the window overlooked the lake. Someone had left flowers in a vase by the window and fresh towels beside an enamel water jug and basin on a stand in the corner. When she had unpacked and washed she went back downstairs and found Massey and Slanski sitting at the pinewood table drinking coffee.
Slanski said, “Sit down, Anna.”
She sat, and Slanski poured her coffee. She studied his face when he wasn’t looking. It was neither handsome nor unattractive, but there was a look in his eyes she had noticed when she first met him, a look as if something
wasn’t right about the man, and he wore a faint smile at the corners of his mouth that suggested he found life oddly amusing.
Now he looked across at her. The smile was gone from his face as he said, “First things first. You’re completely sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t.”
“Jake told you that you might have to face danger. But are you certain you’re prepared to do that?”
She looked at Slanski steadily. “Yes.”
“Then there are some ground rules I want you to understand that apply as long as you’re here. About the mission, you don’t talk to anyone you meet apart from us here. Did Jake explain about Vassily?”
“Yes, briefly.”
“Although he’s completely trustworthy, for the sake of security don’t discuss the mission with him. But don’t worry about that—he won’t ask. We’ll be doing some preparation together for the journey, but in ten days’ time a man will arrive. His name’s Popov. He’s going to put us through some pretty rigorous training, both in Soviet weapons and self-defense. It’s a precaution really, for your sake, so you’ll know how to handle yourself if you get in a difficult situation. But on no account do you talk to Popov about our intentions or discuss anything about our plans. Is that understood?”
She looked briefly at Massey. He was staring at her. “Anna, while you’re here Alex is in charge. You do as he says.”
She looked back at Slanski. “Very well. I agree.”
“Good. Another rule. You work hard and do your utmost to absorb everything you’re going to learn. I want to be sure of who I’m going in with. I want to know I can depend on you.”
“You can.”
Slanski stood up slowly. “Okay. Concerning the mission itself, and just to let you know, when the time comes we’ll be going into Russia through one of the Baltic States, landing by parachute. Estonia to be precise. You’ve been to Estonia?”
Anna nodded. “My father served there as a commander with the Red Army.”
Slanski said shortly, “Then let’s just hope when we get there the Estonian resistance we’re depending on to help us doesn’t know about it. At all times during the mission, while it’s necessary, we’ll behave as man and wife. If things go according to plan, we’ll make our way to Moscow using regular transport, trains and buses, via Leningrad. We’ll have a predetermined route and enough contacts to help us as we need. If things go against us for whatever reason, then we’ll just have to change our plans to suit the situation. Once we reach Moscow—if we reach Moscow—you’ll be passed on to another contact to be taken back to America.”
“How?”
“Jake will tell you all that before we go. As well as everything else you need to know.”
Anna looked from Massey to Slanski. “You make it sound easy. What about the routine checks on travelers in the Soviet Union? What about the paperwork needed for the journey? What happens if we’re separated or one or both of us are caught?”
“It won’t be easy. In fact, it’s going to be rough, especially just after we parachute. Estonia is crawling with Soviet troops. It’s a garrison country, and some of the Baltic Fleet are based there. In many ways traveling in Estonia will be more difficult than Russia itself. As to your other questions, you’ll get the answers all in good time.”
Anna said, “I’ve never parachuted before.”
Slanski shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll sort that out, too.”
He checked his watch before saying to Massey, “I’ve got to pick up some supplies in town. You want to show Anna around? Vassily should be back soon. He’s taken the boat out on the lake to do some fishing.”
Massey nodded. Slanski picked up some keys from the table, crossed to the door, and went out. Anna heard the jeep start up moments later and drive off.
Massey looked at Anna’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Something I saw in his eyes. Either he doesn’t like me or he doesn’t trust me.”
Massey smiled. “I wouldn’t say that. If Alex is blunt, it’s because he has your safety in mind. But he’s always blunt when it comes to tactical business. Granted, he’s also hard to get to know. But don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not worried, Jake.”
“Good.” Massey smiled. “Come on, let’s see if we can find Vassily. I think you’re going to like him.”
• • •
As they reached the lake minutes later a small boat was coming in, its outboard motor rupturing the silence, sounding like a metal wasp as it came into the shore.
The old man sat in the stern, and when he saw Massey he waved. He wore a deerskin jacket and an old woolen deerstalker cap with the ear flaps pulled down. There was a big sheathed knife on a leather belt around his waist, and Anna recognized something familiar in the man’s features as he climbed out of the boat and tied up. He studied her face briefly before he shook Massey’s hand.
He spoke in English, his accent heavily broken. “Massey. Welcome. Alexei told me you’d be coming.”
“Vassily, I’d like you to meet Anna. Anna, this is Vassily.”
Anna looked at the man again. Though far from handsome, he had a sort of warmth about his face, a kindness in his brown eyes she found instantly endearing, and when she offered her hand and the old man shook it, she said instinctively, “Zdrastvuti.”
He smiled and replied in Russian, “Welcome, Anna. Welcome to my house. Alexei never said you were Russian.”
“From Moscow. And you?”
“Kuzomen.”
Now she recognized the old man’s features, the dark Laplander looks of those who inhabited Russia’s northern tundra. “You’re a long way from home.”
A big smile creased the man’s brown face. “A very long way and too far to go back. But this place is just like home. And we Russians are like good wine: we travel well.” He looked at Massey. “Where’s Alexei?”
“Gone to town to pick up supplies.”
“Did he offer our guest bread and salt?”
It was an old Russian tradition with visitors, and Massey smiled and said, “Just coffee, I’m afraid.”
The old man removed his hat and shook his head. “Typical. Like all the young he forgets tradition. Come, let me do the honors, Anna. Give me your arm.”
Vassily held out his arm to her, and Anna slipped her hand through his. She winked at Massey as he stood looking amused.
Massey smiled back. “You know, I think he likes you.”
• • •
Twenty minutes later Massey was standing at the window smoking a cigarette when he saw the jeep pull up outside.
Slanski climbed out and carried two cardboard boxes of supplies up to the house. Massey opened the door for him, and when Slanski had put the boxes away he looked at the two long wooden crates Massey had placed on the floor and kicked one of them with his boot. “What’s in the boxes?”
Massey said, “Everything you’ll need for when Popov arrives. Better stash it in a safe place. There’s enough weapons and munitions in there to start a war.”
“There’s a cold storage room under the kitchen. We can leave them there. Where’s the woman?”
“Vassily’s taken her for a tour of the place. He’s taken quite a shine to her.”
“It’s just been a long time since he’s smelled perfume. But suddenly I’m not so sure about her, Jake.”
“You’ve got doubts already? What happened to your instinct?”
Slanski shook his head. “One look at her was enough to tell me she’s got what it takes. But it’s her life you’re risking. I don’t think she fully realizes what she’s getting herself into here. Once she’s with me, I think she’ll be okay. But if we have to part company because of trouble, I’m not sure she’s capable of making it on her own.”
“You ought to give her more credit, Alex. She spent almost a year in the Gulag. Anyone who can survive that and do what she did to escape isn’t going to give in easily. And she’ll b
e fine once Popov puts her through some training.”
“Another thing. She’s far too pretty. She’ll attract attention.”
“Then why did you agree to having her along?”
Slanski smiled. “Maybe for that very reason. You know me, I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”
Massey shook his head. “You’re anything but, my friend. But we can have that problem fixed when the time comes. It’s amazing what clever makeup and a bad hairstyle can do to alter someone’s appearance.”
“You ought to know, Jake.”
“Funny.” Massey removed an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it across.
“What’s this?”
“Your list of contacts in Russia and the Baltic. You need to memorize the details between now and the day of departure, then destroy the list.”
Slanski glanced at the envelope. “How did you get in touch with them?”
“I haven’t, not yet, but leave that to me. If there’s any change in the names I’ll let you know. I’ve arranged to make contact with our partisan friends in Tallinn who’ll pick you up after you drop, if everything goes according to plan.”
Slanski put the envelope in his pocket. “So what do you want me to do with the woman in the meantime?”
“Give her a couple of days to let her get used to the place, then start to get her into shape. And yourself. Daily runs and exercises. Be tough with her. It’s for her own good. It’s a long way from Tallinn to Moscow and you don’t know what to expect, so you both want to be fit. Another thing: since Anna hasn’t dropped before, you’ll have to cover the basics to make sure she doesn’t do damage to herself when she falls.”
“And what will you be doing while we’re sweating it out here?”
“Me?” Massey smiled. “I’ll be in Paris enjoying myself.”
16
* * *
When the Red Army rolled over the plains of Poland on its way to crush Berlin and the German Reich, Henri Lebel had been liberated from Auschwitz concentration camp. The Russian officer who had gone through the camp huts with his men searching for the still living among the dead had taken one look at the Frenchman’s emaciated body lying on the lice-ridden bunk, at the spindly legs and arms and soulless eyes, and said, “Leave him. The poor wretch is dead.”