Coercion

by Tigner, Tim

  With the Supreme Court in the bag, the only thing with the potential to derail Vasily now was the assassination itself. Framing the Americans was the perfect solution. Like his bricks, it was simple, elegant, and easy to understand. That was why it was so maddening that he didn’t have Alex Ferris yet. Where was Yarik?! It had been a week.

  Maddening though it might be, since there was nothing he could do to make Yarik and Ferris appear faster, Vasily turned his attention to the issues he could influence. With all the ups and downs surrounding Yarik’s disappearance, he had dropped the courtship ball. In fact, he had gone from the brink of making a marriage proposal, to inadvertently suspending all contact with Anna. Vasily knew this was a serious break from courting norms, but Yarik’s brush with death really had rattled him, and he figured that as a woman, Anna would understand.

  There was nothing wrong with a man showing his sensitive side on occasion. Who knows, Vasily thought, perhaps his negligence was working to his favor as a male version of hard-to-get. In any case, it was now time to recommence his courting.

  Vasily looked at his watch. It was eleven-thirty already. In an hour he would have lunch in the SibStroy employee cafeteria and then make a motivational speech for dessert and have a coffee with the employees of the month. He would be out of there by three and back in Academic City by four.

  As he pondered his next move, Vasily found himself feeling romantically inspired. Perhaps he should just drop in on Anna. He wouldn’t even need to change. She had not seen him in full dress uniform except on TV. His thick stack of medals and gilded General’s trim always impressed women. Yes, it was time to show Anna his spontaneous side.

  He would not pursue the marriage proposal at this point; too much time had passed since their last date for that kind of move to fly. But he could pick up a beautiful bouquet, fetch a bottle of French champagne and a jar of fresh beluga from his apartment, and then show up at Anna’s apartment unannounced. Spontaneity could not help but improve his image. It would add depth and boyish charm to what some women might consider too militant a persona. Yes, it was a wonderful idea. He could just picture the star-struck look on her stunning face …

  Chapter 53

  Moscow, Russia

  Foreign Minister Sugurov was worried, and that wasn’t like him. Worrying was wasted energy. Better to spend your time fixing a problem than fretting over it, he always said. And there was the rub. For the first time in his life, Sugurov was at a loss for how to fix a problem.

  It had been one week since he had heard from Andrey, one week since his Chief of Staff had gone into Chulin Air Base to pry Alex from Yarik’s clutches, and one week since an airplane had exploded. That was all Sugurov knew for certain. Everything else was just conjecture.

  It was possible that the escape had gone awry and the plane had blown up with everyone aboard, but Sugurov didn’t think that was likely. Andrey was too good. He was also the most likely cause of the explosion. Sugurov clung to the assumption that Andrey and Alex either never got on the plane, or had jumped off before it exploded. This optimistic hypothesis gained credence when Sugurov got word that Yarik had survived but was missing in action. More than a week had gone by, however, and there was still no word from Andrey. Sugurov’s optimism was waning.

  It was time to take action, and unfortunately, that action would have to involve other agencies. Sugurov composed his thoughts and then got his assistant on the intercom. “Natasha, I need to make two calls…”

  Chapter 54

  Academic City, Siberia

  When Alex awoke, Anna was just lying there looking at him from her bed. She seemed to have something on her mind. He raised his eyebrows in query.

  “You really haven’t told me anything about your family, Alex. All I know is that they all died tragically. Were you close?”

  “To my mother.”

  “But not your father…?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Alex, I don’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s okay. Probably do me good to talk about it.” He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling while he spoke. “My father never took much interest in Frank or me. We just seemed to be the obligatory two kids he needed standing next to his beautiful wife in the family photo at the bank.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s a good sign. Nobody should. My father was all work. He was a banker, like his father. Climbed the ladder all the way to Managing Director before … before he died.”

  “Did he love your mother?”

  “I’d like to think he did, at least at first. They met when he was on a banking internship in Geneva the summer before he graduated from Wharton. Anyhow, mom got pregnant and they got engaged. When dad graduated he moved to Geneva and they got married. Frank and I were born a few months later.” Alex paused, looking for the right way to proceed. “As my mother explained it; babies are tough, twins are tougher. It was too much for dad, so first he dove into work. Then he dove into other women.”

  “Sounds tragic, but not that unusual. How did your mother react?”

  “Not the way you would expect. That was always a mystery to me.” Alex rolled to face Anna and propped himself up on one elbow. “Can we talk about something else? You mentioned a surprise earlier…”

  Anna’s sad eyes regained their sparkle. “Why don’t you go take a long shower? I’ll tell you when you’re done.”

  Alex exited the bathroom thirty minutes later to learn that the surprise was dinner at her mother’s apartment. Now he understood why she’d been suddenly curious about his family. The true surprise, however, was not the message but the messenger. Anna greeted him wearing a low-cut red dress and high heels. The outfit was obviously designed for warmer days, but the fashion police were lax in Siberia, and Alex certainly didn’t mind a bit. In addition to the new outfit, Anna had applied makeup and done her hair. She was a natural beauty without any enhancement, so the woman before him now was positively spellbinding. Helen of Troy had nothing on Anna of Torsk.

  Sitting across from Anna at dinner, Alex found it hard not to stare at the swell of her breasts, so he did his best to keep his eyes on mom. Mrs. Zaitseva was a handsome woman in her mid- to late-fifties. Other than her amber eyes, her appearance did not resemble Anna’s much. Yet she was attractive in her own way. Mrs. Z was slim of figure and full of energy, and there was something about her that put you instantly at ease. Alex appreciated it, because for some reason he had been fidgety walking over.

  They enjoyed a pleasant evening with a warm and relaxed family feel. By the time dinner was over, Alex knew as much about Anna as anyone else in his life. For some reason the conversation between them just flowed, as though nature was trying to create a balance of knowledge. The only standard topic they did not discuss, the one conspicuously absent from all their other conversations to date, was relationships. Mrs. Z also managed to ignore the itchy elephant in the corner.

  Alex appreciated their discretion. He was single, but for a reason. Nobody ever left it at that, though. You couldn’t just say “I’m not fit to be a husband” and switch to the weather. Everyone had to know why, so they could convince you that you were wrong. It was as if they wanted you to join their religion. So eventually he would have to tell them the story. He hated telling the story. People always smiled reassuringly, and nodded with understanding, but they never really understood. To be perfectly honest, neither did he.

  “Are you bringing Alex to church?” Mrs. Z asked Anna while pouring tea from her samovar.

  “I don’t think he would find that particularly interesting, Mother, and we don’t want him to be seen.”

  Alex surprised himself by saying, “Actually, I would like to go.”

  Mrs. Z gave him an approving nod and said, “We’ll say that you’re Anna’s cousin from Vilnius.”

  Anna looked back and forth between him and her mother with a bemused smile on her face. Alex was pleased to have Mother as a coconspirator. Because his looks and accent wer
en’t pure Russian, saying that he was from Vilnius, the capital of the distant Soviet Republic of Lithuania, would work just fine. Making him a relative would further diffuse the speculation that would undoubtedly arise in their small village if Anna suddenly produced a foreign suitor. Two points for mom.

  As the three walked slowly through virgin snow, Anna explained, “It’s not a regular church service. It’s a memorial service that has evolved into something of a community social event. We have it every Sunday night at eight o’clock. You remember I told you about Kostya being killed along with twenty-four other villagers from a radiation leak?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Well, you can imagine what a shock such a loss is to a small village like Torsk. Everyone lost a relative or friend, and even five years later we still haven’t let go.”

  Alex knew about loss, but he did not want to turn the discussion in that direction, so he just reached out to hold Anna’s hand. They walked on in silence.

  They arrived thirty minutes early for the service, as planned. Anna wanted to show off their beautiful church. “It was built nearly six hundred years ago,” she explained while tying on a scarf to cover her head, “back when the annual Torsk fur fair was a major regional event.”

  European dates always amazed Alex. To think, this building was three times older than his country. It really put things into humbling perspective. His curiosity aroused, Alex pulled harder than necessary on the massive door. It sprang outward with surprising ease and brought the scent of burning beeswax to their noses.

  “It’s perfectly balanced,” Anna said with a knowing smile.

  The nave of the church was a semicircular dome. At the front was an assortment of ornate gilded icons behind a hand-carved pulpit. For a town of this size, it was magnificent.

  Although the first to arrive, they walked around quietly while Anna pointed and explained this and that in whispered voice. It was as though the church itself was not to be disturbed. Nevertheless, as they approached the pulpit, Anna said, “It’s okay to go up, we’re all family here in Torsk.”

  Alex mounted the pulpit and found himself looking at an enormous ancient Bible. After an approving nod from Anna he flipped delicately through a few pages of the beautiful book. The printing was done mechanically, but the illuminations were delicately wrought by hand. It must be worth a fortune, he thought, but not to anybody within a thousand miles of here.

  “Alex,” Anna whispered.

  He looked up but she wasn’t there.

  “Alex.”

  Where was she? Had she slipped behind an icon? Into a secret antechamber? Through a trapdoor? He looked around with bemused curiosity. Then he heard her laugh. A moment later he saw her approaching from the rear of the church, wearing a big smile.

  “What was that?”

  “Did you like it? It’s because of the dome.” Anna gestured upward with her head. “The nobleman who built the church set it up so the peasants could sit quietly in the chapel off the back of the nave and listen to the service out of sight of the gentry. Some say he did it so the peasants wouldn’t feel ashamed of their common clothes. Others think he just didn’t want to have to look at them. Now we’re all peasants so it doesn’t really matter.” She gave a carefree shrug and reached for his hand. “Actually, the chapel is kind of cozy, come have a look. It’s where we hold the memorial services.”

  Alex walked to the back of the church and ducked through a narrow arched tunnel into an ancient windowless room with a low domed brick ceiling. “You were whispering from here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Amazing,” he said, thinking of the church, the girl, and the dress.

  About thirty people filtered in over the next ten minutes as Alex admired the enduring architecture. Then, promptly at eight, Father Nikoli came through the entryway clad in an antique gold and silver robe. He walked slowly, ceremoniously to the front where he stood between two enormous candles. Once in place he spread his arms wide to gather the crowd’s attention and then slowly brought his palms back together to focus it. After a thick moment of silence he invited them all to bow their heads in silent prayer for the souls of their lost sons.

  Alex found it an amazing experience, standing there in the ancient candle-lit chamber, praying in silence with a score of Russian villagers. As the priest circled them in silence, waving the smoking sensor, Alex felt as though the tiny tunnel had transported him back through the ages to the days of parchment and apostles. He knew he was standing among God’s people, and felt he finally understood what was meant by “the meek shall inherit the Earth.” It was a feeling he would never forget.

  Ten mystical minutes later the priest began speaking a language that Alex did not understand interspersed with words that he did. Regardless of the language, Nikoli’s rich baritone voice seemed to pour out of the rocks and into Alex’s soul. He began to understand how some cults attracted more than just the feeble minded. He mouthed along as they recited a collective prayer and then Father Nikoli concluded the service by reading the names of the twenty-five victims, including Anna’s brother Konstantine Anatolievitch Zaitsev.

  Anna turned to Alex. She seemed about to speak but stopped to look at his face instead. Alex realized it must be fraught with emotion. Her eyes lit up and she leaned close to whisper in his ear. “We can go now. Mother will stay here chatting with her friends, perhaps for hours. Then they’ll walk her home.”

  Alex thanked Mrs. Zaitseva for a lovely meal and a touching evening, and left the church with Anna on his arm—a Russian norm among friends. Her apartment was a good kilometer away, but the sky was clear, the air was dry, and they were warmly dressed in wool dublyonkas, so it was a pleasure despite the hour. He enjoyed walking with Anna, although they didn’t speak much. She was obviously lost in thought and he did not want to disturb her.

  “You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you Alex,” Anna asked, as they hung up their coats and she locked the door behind them.

  “Or the day after,” he said softly.

  She gave him a long sad look and then he saw the sparkle he had grown so fond of. Then she reached back to unzip her dress and let it drop to the floor. “Let’s agree on the day after.”

  For the second time that night, Alex found himself having a religious experience. Anna looked as divine as any form that had ever graced his eyes, and the sight of her nearly naked body was enough to turn his throat dry. He stood motionless for a moment, stunned and silent as he drank her in with his eyes.

  While moonlight streamed through the curtains to illuminate her heavenly body, Anna glided over and placed her hands lovingly around his neck. Her touch was warm and gentle, and it convinced Alex that despite the fantastic nature of what was happening, this was not a dream.

  Hours later, after their lovemaking had washed away the agony and anguish of horrors past, he drifted into a deep, restful sleep to the words, “I love you.”

  Chapter 55

  Academic City, Siberia

  Anna felt a quiver of pleasure run down her body when she heard the knock on her door. Last night had been so special, so gloriously sensually consuming that she had wanted it to last forever. The memories certainly would. They played in her mind like the scenes from a romantic movie, at once too fantastic to be real but yet too vibrant to be denied. She prayed they wouldn’t fade with time. Their lovemaking had been more than just a magical evening, it had released the frustrations accumulated in her soul: the taunting babushkas, the dying Petrovs, the hounding Karpovs.

  Eventually they had fallen asleep in each others’ arms, only to wake all too early to Alex’s alarm. He had insisted on leaving in the wee hours to do reconnaissance on the KGB complex under the cloak of darkness. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to stay, but she did not try to dissuade him; he would be safer in the dark.

  A knock at the door this early could only mean that he had rushed through his work and was anxious for a replay himself. She knew she could hardly
wait for tonight, and perhaps he couldn’t either. It was so typical for them to think alike.

  “Helloooo—,” Anna said in mock romantic-tone, opening the door with a flirtatious grin. “Vasily,” she swallowed the name and stepped back in shock, pulling her bathrobe into place as she did so. Further words would not come so she just stared in shock.

  Mixed emotions crossed the general’s face like lightning on a thunderhead. “Good morning, Anna. These are for you,” he said, extending an enormous bouquet of roses. “I apologize for such an early arrival. I came by with these last evening, but you weren’t here?”

  Anna blinked a few times, forcing her mind to switch gears before responding. “Yes, yes I had dinner with my mother and then we went to church.”

  “I see,” he said, flashing one of his trademark smiles and clearly waiting for an invitation to enter.

  “Thank you for the flowers, Vasily.” She tried to sound genuine. “Now I must get ready for work. Mondays are our busiest days at the hospital.”

  “I see. Well I hope—”

  “Have a good week, and thanks again for the roses. You’re very thoughtful.” She closed the door and turned the lock.

  Anna stood with her back to the door for a moment, befuddled by this startling twist. She could feel Vasily on the other side of the door doing the same thing, so she moved quietly to the kitchen. She put on tea and nestled atop the kitchen chair to think with her knees tucked up beneath her chin.

  Vasily’s visit had doused her with a cold shower of reality. Despite the roses, his appearance was an unwelcome reminder of the world she actually lived in. Anna had been getting used to living a secret, double existence with an American spy. Now her old life seemed not only mundane but frightfully so. When she left for work this morning, she would be walking back into her old, cold, stale-grey life. The thought had never pained her this way before.