“But you said he's not alone in this? Why didn't someone else at least stop us from taking off?”
”I don't know. Maybe they thought Kosarev had it under control. And because we beat the evening news. By now, however, they know that he's defecting to save his skin.”
“Who are they, by the way?.Do you know?”
Another hesitation. Bannerman shook his head.
“Okay. Kosarev. He was willing to leave with just the clothes on his back?”
“He didn't mind. We had a plane going to Zurich and I'm sure he has plenty of money there.”
There was something wrong here, thought Lesko. Maybe it's just the way Bannerman says things. I mean, everything everyone does, to hear him tell it, is perfectly logical. You'd like to get a sense of good guy-bad guy here. Maybe a little anger. Like Yuri had. Like Podolsk had.
It's the computer again. And it's pissing him off. Lesko thought he'd better go for another beer, look in on Elena.
“Uncle David?”
Susan had called him twice in her mind. He wasn't answering.
She wished he would. He was her father's ghost, but he was still her uncle David. Or at least that was what she'd called him since grade school.
She was kneeling at Elena's bedside, being careful not to disturb the tubes that dripped fluid into both her arms. Elena, exhausted by the move, was dead to the world.
Susan stared at the growing swell of her belly. She could not resist reaching to touch it.
“Uncle David. . . is it mine?”
”I don 't know. I bet it isn 't.'`
She closed her eyes. Held her breath.
”Why don't you think so?”
“Like her cousin told you... Elena had second thoughts, I think. Using yours hit a little too close to home.”
But they had talked about that from the beginning. It didn't bother the doctor. He said that genetically, clinically, Susan's egg would be the best possible match. Forget horror stories, he said, about inbreeding. The risk of the child being defective is no greater, in fact much less, than if Elena tried to have the child on her own. He recognized, however, that dealing with this on an emotional level was another matter entirely.
Elena seemed okay about it. In some ways, she loved the idea. The genes were right, the coloring was right. Even the personality. She said that a new Susan was exactly what anyone would expect... hope ... to come out of such a union. The crapshoot that Lesko talks about would be at a minimum.
Susan also got Janet Herzog's vote. Janet couldn't donate an egg because she didn't have a uterus anymore. She came over, mostly, for moral support and to show Elena that losing her plumbing had an up side. That was when Elena asked them all to be bridesmaids if she ever got up the nerve to ask Lesko and if he said yes.
Janet agreed, on the other hand, that there was much to be said for using Molly Farrell’s egg. Coloring is similar. Molly is very athletic—was NCAA champion at tennis. Very strong character and a nice personality there as well.
The option that tickled Elena the most, however, was that of using Carla's contribution. Can you imagine such a combination? she asked. Lesko and Carla? The world would tremble. Red hair, however, might raise some eyebrows.
“David? It's a son, right?”
“Who knows?”
“My father said he had a dream. You were in it. The baby came and you said it was a boy”
“That was a dream, Susan.”
“Like this one?”
“Like this one. Look, why don 't you just ask Elena who she used.”
“Because we agreed that we 'd never, ever, speak of it. None of us. And because I'm not sure I want to know.”
“So? Wait and see, right?”
She felt herself smiling.
”I guess. Wait and see.”
Lesko sat again.
“How's Elena doing?” Bannerman asked him.
”I just looked in. Susan's praying by the bed. I left them alone.”
Bannerman arched an eyebrow. Another facet to Susan he'd never seen.
“I've got more questions,” Lesko told him, “but let's have yours.”
A long pause. Then, “I'm going to ask Susan if she'll be my wife. I guess I want to ask for your blessing.”
Lesko stared. “Are you shitting me?”
”I. . . um, thought it was traditional to ask.”
“Fuck tradition. Would you give you your blessing?”
“Lesko, maybe if you talked this over with Elena… ”
“Let's get back to a subject I can handle, okay? What's the story with Leo's uncle?”
Bannerman, thought Lesko, came close to sulking. He had clearly rehearsed his dumb proposal. This must be some of that endearing ineptitude shit. This, and weaving through Detsky Mir, gun in hand, knowing there's every chance you won't get through this alive and yet a part of your head is saying, “Oh, wow. New Fords where they used to have Infants & Toddlers.”
Bannerman answered anyway.
Nikolai Belkin was basically a schmuck, he said, although Bannerman's actual language was a little more charitable. Kosarev had recruited him just after the Gorbachev coup. He told him that us reformers who were never really Communists need a man of your moral stature to help clean up the KGB. Raise your banner and see who flocks to it. Even provided him with a car and driver.
For Kosarev, this was a good way to find out who was reliable and who, like Leo and Yuri for example, had a conscience. Then, through old Nikolai, he'd have these guys infiltrate anyone who was a threat to him. He'd build his own power base while pretending to be the great white knight of the new Russia.
It was so, so sad.
When Leo's uncle finally caught on, it broke his heart.
“I'll ask you again. What did you promise Kosarev?”
”I promised Roger. I said I'd do him no harm.”
“Yeah, well, I didn't promise.”
“No ... you didn't.”
No way, thought Lesko. No fucking way is Kosarev going to waltz into a Zurich bank tomorrow and then head for the nearest Mercedes dealer. Then start doing deals with Roger Clew. On the other hand, let him. Let Carla or Yuri see him driving it. He'll be his own hood ornament before the week is out. Which Bannerman must know damned well.
Lesko still felt bad about something.
In his mind, he saw that lady in Red Square. Elena gave her that book and that nail polish. He saw her big happy grin, he felt her warmth. He saw that kid, Mikhail, who had bought the amber necklace for him. And he saw all the Russian doctors and nurses who had been so terrific ... and who had cried when they saw all the stuff that Willem brought.
“Bannerman?”
“Hmmm?”
“What will happen to Russia?”
“The hard times will blow over. Everything blows over.”
“Will there be anything left?”
Bannerman had to think how he would answer. The Kuliks and the Kosarevs will always be around. On the whole, however, he tended to agree with Yuri. The buccaneers, the opportunists, and the borderline criminals are the ones who make things happen. Like them or not, they make an economy grow. People like Fuller and Clew don't. They try and they might even mean well. But they spend all their time hatching grand strategies that never work because the people they don't bother to consult always have ideas of their own. The trick is to get out of their way, but no government in the world can bring itself to do that.
But that's not what Lesko wanted to hear.
“It could be the richest country in the world. In my lifetime.”
Lesko nodded slowly. “That's what Mikhail said. He's this kid I met.”
“And the poorest. But the poor won't have to stay that way. I guess that's the difference.”
Lesko chewed on that as well. ”I like those people, Bannerman.”
”I know you do.”
“Maybe I can . . .” He stopped himself.
Yes, thought Bannerman. With those files, with a little Bragg money, maybe you can
.
“Lesko?”
“Yeah.”
”I want my life. I want a home.”
Lesko said nothing.
“If there's a wedding, will you come to it?”
“You know I will.”
“Will you give Susan away?”
“Yeah. Sure. And thanks.”
“When the baby comes, maybe you and Elena . . ”
Lesko seemed to swell. Godzilla rising. Bannerman knew that he'd made a mistake. “What baby?” Lesko hissed.
“Um . . . yours? Yours and Elena's.”
He receded slightly. “What about it?”
“Ah ... have you thought about who you'll ask to be godfather?”
Lesko put a hand on his shoulder.
“Bannerman . . . don't push your luck,” he said.
End
Contents
Cover
Title Page
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Epilogue
Bannerman's Promise Page 57