by Saul Herzog
Sofia nodded. “Yes?”
“A leak,” Olga said.
“Right.”
“I mean, they didn’t do this on purpose. It’s a leak from their own facility and they know that.”
Sofia nodded. She felt an overwhelming wave of guilt. This was the result of her work. She’d done this. Or been a part of it. And now, people like Olga would have to figure out the solution.
“Then why are they locking down the hospital? We’re not the source of the threat.”
Sofia thought about that. There was a small chance of contamination from an exposed person. Spores in their body or on their clothing could still be active. But Olga was right. That risk was minuscule compared to the fact that their own facility had been spewing spores into the sky just a few miles away.
“Olga,” she said. “They’re covering their tracks. They’re trying to make it look like this is a disease outbreak so that they can deny it’s a bioweapon.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they’re being watched.”
“Watched?”
“The world is always watching,” Sofia said. “We signed treaties saying we wouldn’t do this. Saying we’d stop making new bioweapons.”
“We need to get out of here,” Olga said.
Sofia nodded. “But how? They’ve surrounded us with machine guns.”
26
Tatyana leaned back on a velvet sofa. She was in one of the hotel’s boutiques and two girls fluttered around her.
“Maybe that one,” she said, pointing at a black Chanel dress with jewels embroidered around the neckline.
One of the girls went to get it while the other offered her a bottle of Perrier on a silver tray.
Tatyana waved it away.
“No,” she said. “Not that one. The one with the crystals.”
The girl took it carefully from the hanger and held it up. It was exquisite.
“Oh,” Tatyana moaned, “it’s so beautiful.”
“It is,” the girl said.
The girl was pretty. She had a pleasant demeanor. Tatyana wondered what it would be like to have a life like that. A life that was honest. A life that was safe.
Maybe if she’d been born in America instead of Russia she’d be a girl like that. A girl who showed rich, foreign women dresses that cost more than she earned in a month.
“Would you like to try it on?” the girl said.
Tatyana was about to say yes when her phone rang.
It was her operator. “He wants to speak to you.”
“I’ll hold,” Tatyana said.
She waited for the click and then Igor’s voice.
“Arrived?” he said.
“I’m at the hotel.”
“How’s the room?”
“I haven’t been up yet.”
Igor chuckled. “The boutiques?”
“You’d be suspicious if I didn’t,” she said.
He laughed again and she thought he sounded very jolly. She could tell he was smoking a cigar.
“Is everything okay?” she said.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You don’t usually call for a chat while I’m shopping,” she said.
“Quite,” he said.
She rolled her eyes at the sales assistant and pretended to yawn. The assistant smiled.
Part of Tatyana’s job was to constantly sell herself to Igor. There was no shortage of blonde girls in Moscow who would sleep with foreigners for a Chanel dress. The bosses knew it. The girls knew it.
Stroking Igor’s ego was something Tatyana was used to. She was good at it.
“Miss me?” she said.
Not only did she have to flirt with him, she had to convince him that he got more bang for his buck with her than any of the literally hundreds of other girls who wanted her job.
That didn’t just mean favors in the office with the door locked.
It meant getting information out of the targets. Information that could advance Igor’s career, or give him an edge over his adversaries. And all the while, she had to make him feel she was grateful to him. Grateful for the privilege of having a job, for getting to wear nice things, for flying first class. Grateful like the money was his, like it came from his wallet personally.
In that sense, every widow was a double agent before she ever left the training facility. She learned to play both sides from day one. She knew instinctively what men like Igor took years to figure out.
That there was no difference between a Russian cock and an American one.
“Everyone’s a whore,” her grandmother told her on her sixteenth birthday. “The only thing you decide is what part of yourself you sell. Your brain. Your hands. Your pussy.”
There was never any doubt which paid best.
“There’s been a change of plan,” Igor said.
“Oh?”
“You’ve got a new target.”
“I see.”
“Someone more valuable.”
“You’re sending me files?”
“Agniya’s preparing them now.”
Tatyana took a deep breath. She told herself this was nothing unusual. It made sense. She’d manipulated Igor into sending her after a second-rate target. It wasn’t surprising someone up the chain had decided to switch it out for someone better.
“Is everything all right, Igor?” she said.
There was the slightest hesitation from Igor, and then, “Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, it’s just, this new target. I haven’t had time to vet him personally.”
“Well,” she said, “if he’s coming from upstairs, I’m sure they’ve done their diligence.”
“You’ll have to be careful.”
“I always am,” she said.
She waited for him to say more but he was uncharacteristically reticent. Something was distracting him.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, Igor?” she said. It was the second time she’d asked.
“It’s okay. Just … you know.”
“Upstairs?” she said.
“Just keep your wits about you.”
“I will.”
“I know I can count on you, Tatiusha,” he said, using the diminutive of her name. It showed affection. He’d never called her that before.
Then the line went dead. Tatyana looked at the phone to see if there was a problem with the call.
“Everything all right?” the sales assistant said.
Tatyana nodded absently. “Just,” she said, thinking. “Just work.”
“Do you still want to see the dress?”
“Pack it up for me.”
“You’ll take it?”
“Of course.”
“It’s four thousand dollars.”
“Fine,” Tatyana said.
She paid for the dress and went back out to the lobby. The concierge offered to help with her bag but she brushed past him without speaking. In the elevator she felt nauseous. All the travel was catching up with her. She needed rest.
When she got to her room she could tell the advance team had already been there. Cameras would be hidden everywhere, even in the bathroom, which she always felt was gratuitous.
She flung the bag on the bed, went into the bathroom, and threw up.
Then she ran a hot bath and lay in it for half an hour. She felt better when she got out. She wrapped herself in a robe and lay on the bed. She had the files to read but she needed a few minutes. She set a thirty minute timer and shut her eyes.
27
Laurel felt the adrenaline. She’d gotten too used to working from a desk, putting the pieces in play from the safety of Langley. Actually being in the field was a rush.
She’d already told Roth he could call off the surveillance and the van was just pulling away.
She walked into the mail store and looked around. It was nothing. Harmless. There was no one there but a kid in a Giants jersey playing on his phone, so bored he was almost comatose
.
She looked for the camera the surveillance guys had installed and couldn’t see it. They’d done well, getting it in place while the police gave the owner a hard time.
She wasn’t sure how her defector was monitoring the mailbox and she hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long for a response.
She browsed the store for a few minutes to maximize her chances of being seen.
“Can I help you?” the kid at the counter said.
“I’m looking for bubblewrap,” she said.
“Packaging materials,” the kid said, pointing to a shelf.
She examined the items on the shelf.
The mailboxes were at the back. They were clearly visible from every part of the store.
“I know someone who has a mailing address at this store,” she said to the kid.
He looked up at her. “We provide mail services.”
“She has a box.”
“Yes, we rent boxes there at the back.”
He was suspicious. After what had happened with the police, he was under no illusions this was an innocent inquiry.
“My friend rented hers without ID,” Laurel said.
The kid looked toward the door.
“Your friend?”
“Yeah.”
“We require identification for all box rentals,” he said cautiously. “It’s our policy with all boxes.”
“I see,” Laurel said.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he said, nervous now.
“I need to get a message to my friend,” Laurel said.
The kid said nothing.
Laurel reached into her pocket and handed him a card. It was from a bar a few blocks away.
“What’s this?”
“My friend wanted me to set her up with someone.”
“What?”
“A date.”
“With a guy?”
“Yeah.”
The kid said nothing.
“He’ll be at this bar tonight at midnight,” Laurel said.
28
Lance looked at Sam, sitting at the bar. She was beginning to look like she might fit in. She was wearing jeans and a warm sweater and the dye in her hair faded a little every time she washed it.
“Two beers,” he said to the bartender.
“I’ll have a club soda,” Sam said.
She was playing with a pack of cigarettes on the bar and she said, “How long are you going to string this out?”
“String what out?”
“You know what.”
Lance shook his head. He knew what she was referring to and he didn’t like it. She’d caught the gist of Roth and Laurel’s visit. Or at least, she thought she had.
“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he said.
“I know as much as you knew when you stepped into my life.”
“And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“About me?”
“Yes, about you.”
“Maybe you were.”
“You’re better off here.”
She shrugged. “I should have had a say in the matter.”
“But it’s working out, right?”
She nodded reluctantly. “It’s working.”
He could tell she’d be okay. His place was big enough for the two of them. She was a smart girl. A fresh start in a fresh town was all she needed.
“You’ll get a job, maybe go back to school.”
“Let’s start with a job,” she said.
“See. I wasn’t so wrong.”
“We’re not talking about that,” she said. “We’re talking about those two government people.”
“You don’t know who they were.”
“I saw enough to know they wanted you back.”
He nodded.
“But you’re still sitting here in this bar with me, wasting time.”
The bartender brought their drinks and Lance smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.
“How’s this a waste of time?” he said.
“Letting other people fight your battles for you.”
“They’re not fighting my battles.”
“Sure looked that way.”
Lance sighed.
“They’ve gone back to fight your fight, while you sit here on your ass drinking with women half your age.”
“What makes you think their fight had anything to do with me?”
“Come on,” she said. “Why would they come all the way out here if it had nothing to do with you?”
“It was a job offer, basically.”
“When the military comes to you, when they come all the way to your door, that’s not a job offer.”
“Oh no?”
She shook her head.
“What is it then?”
“Its a duty, Lance.”
He laughed. “Since when were you such an expert?”
Sam shrugged. She took a sip of her drink.
“I’m just saying,” she said.
Lance drained his beer and ordered another. He leaned back on his seat and looked around the bar. It was busier than the last time they were there. There were groups of people sitting at tables having a good time.
“This is life, Sam. Right here. This town. This is where I grew up. This is real life.”
“For some people,” she said.
“Maybe I want to be some people. Maybe I want to settle down. Find a woman. Start a family. Don’t I get to do that?”
She shrugged.
“No, really,” he said. “I filed my application to join the army when I was sixteen years old. I had to wait for them to accept me. I had to get a waiver.”
“And look at you now,” she said.
“I gave them everything, Sam.”
“So now you want to start a family? Get a Labrador? A picket fence?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had a chance to figure that out.”
“Come on.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Sam shook her head. “I don’t know, Lance. Nothing, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It just seems, I don’t know, like a cop out.”
“A cop out?”
“I mean, if you had a woman, maybe I’d believe it. But you’re sitting here smiling at a bartender young enough to be your daughter. And she doesn’t even like you, Lance. That doesn’t exactly look like you’re planning on laying down roots.”
“I was being polite.”’
She took another sip.
“And how do you know she doesn’t like me?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “What are you afraid of?” she said.
“Afraid?”
“You’re afraid of something.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then why won’t you go back?”
“Because I’ve seen the things they want from me. I’ve been down that road. I know where they want to send me. And I know what it leads to.”
“You’re a soldier,” Sam said. “You shouldn’t be thinking like that.”
“How should I be thinking?”
“Look at yourself,” she said. “You’ve been sitting in this bar every night since I got here. You’ve got more life left in you than this.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I told you the first time I met you,” she said. “Go back and fight for your country.”
“You mean go back and die for my country.”
“If it comes to that. Better men than you have done it.”
“Not on purpose,” Lance said.
Sam shook her head. “No, I see it. Maybe I’m speaking out of line. I mean, I know I’m speaking out of line. But you’re scared, Lance Spector. You’re afraid of something. Something you saw over there rattled you. Now you’re afraid to go back and face it.”
“I never saw the point in dying over there when I could die perfectly well right here at home.”
“They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t need you. They came. The
y asked. Whatever happens now is on you.”
Lance let out a long sigh. Her words were bothering him. He was used to people giving him their two cents. Everyone in the military knew what that was like. You came back and people didn’t understand. There’d been times in his life when he felt he couldn’t walk into a bar without someone getting in his face. He’d learned a long time ago to tune it out.
People’s opinions didn’t matter. He knew that. The problem was, he felt he’d lost track of what did matter.
“I told you I signed up as soon as I could,” he said.
She nodded. “You told me.”
“Well, the truth is, I never signed up to fight for my country.”
“You needed a job?”
“I needed to get out of here. The army was just my ticket.”
“Well, I don’t think they’d hold that against you. They pretty much say that much in the recruitment commercials.”
“I know,” he said. “And when I got there, when I actually saw action, felt the heat of battle, saw the face of the enemy, I didn’t fight for my country then either.”
Sam looked at him.
“I fought to save my own skin. And I fought for the guy standing next to me. For the guys in my unit. We had each other’s backs.”
“I think that’s normal,” Sam said.
“It is,” Lance said. “You fight for the man next to you. They tell us that too.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem?”
“Why don’t you go do that again?”
“Because all my friends are dead, Sam. There’s no one left for me to fight for.”
“All of them are dead?”
“Every last one of them.”
Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Lance nodded.
“That’s war, I guess.”
“Sam,” Lance said, and he put down his beer and looked at her. “War is something I understand. What I don’t understand is killing completely innocent people.”
“What are you saying?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“No. I want to know.”
“I can’t get into it.”
“Was that how my father died?”
“No, your father died taking a bullet for me. He saved my life.”
“And that’s why you came for me?”
Lance didn’t say anything.
“Who were they?” Sam said. “The two people who came?”