by Lisa Luciano
“Who was it?!”
Carol kept Robby secluded in his room with Paige and Alex standing guard as she talked to an American federation official. If there was time, she would have chuckled at the sight of this petrified little man who was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Damn it! Are you interested in the truth or saving face?” she asked.
“We’ve got to make a statement. Hesitation could be misinterpreted as a cover up,” he said, nervously tugging at his jacket with one hand and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the other.
“Who do you think you are? A congressman? Nobody outside of skating is going to give a damn.”
“Now there’s no need for that kind of language,” he warned, wagging a stubby finger at her.
“I’m watching everything I’ve… Robby’s worked for go down the drain and you want to discuss semantics?”
“The simple fact is, we can’t sit on this forever.”
“I’m just asking for a little more time.”
A day. A week. Carol began to wonder if all the time in the world would make any difference.
Dimitri stared at the perfectly painted white door of Suite 2B. If a piece of wood seemed so intimidating, how, he wondered, would he get through the next ten minutes? He knocked hard hoping the pain in his knuckles would steel him for the confrontation to come. An attractive, plainly dressed woman of thirty five greeted him.
“Please tell Secretary General Ilyukin I would like to see him,” Dimitri said in a business-like tone, straightening to his full five foot seven inches.
“He’s extremely busy. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“I must speak to him now.”
“You have no appointment—”
“I’ve no time for bureaucratic nonsense.”
“And no manners,” she snapped.
He hated using his newfound power, but time was running out.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Yes. You are the latest hero of Mother Russia,” she said, totally unimpressed. “And do you know why? Because the Secretary General worked day and night to make it happen. Everything you are you owe to him. So instead of coming in here making demands, you should be thanking him.”
“How shall I do that?”
“By acting like a champion instead of a spoiled child.”
“Yes,” he said benignly. “You’re quite right. I apologize.”
She nodded triumphantly. He began to walk away, then suddenly turned and ran into the room like a fullback heading for the goal line, throwing the full force of his body against the door behind her. The impact sent him stumbling into the next room and the burly arms of two security men.
“How dare you!” she yelled.
“Where is the Secretary General?” he demanded of the guards.
Ilyukin stepped out of the bedroom searching for the source of the disturbance. “I’m sorry, Secretary General. He forced his way in,” she said, hoping the apology would suffice.
“Dimitri. Come. Sit,” he said smiling.
Ilyukin wore a robe over a pair of decidedly decadent black silk pajamas. He eased into a high-backed velvet chair the shade of a fine Bordeaux, and crossed his legs. Dimitri moved closer, but remained standing.
“No, thank you.”
He waved his secretary and the guards away. They dutifully retreated to the outer room.
“You must forgive Ludmilla. She’s very protectIve,” he said, thinking a brandy and a Cuban cigar would complete the picture nicely.
“Yes. Mistresses usually are,” the young man retorted.
“Ludmilla and I? Don’t be absurd.”
“I suppose that truth will have to wait for another time.”
“You seem ill at ease.”
Dimitri could not help laughing at such a gross understatement.
“What is it? I would’ve expected to find you celebrating,” Ilyukin said, sounding almost concerned.
“By dancing on someone else’s grave?”
“Dimitri, please. I’m a busy man.”
“Yes, I would imagine destroying careers is a full time occupation.”
“What are you saying?”
“How could you have done that?” Dimitri said, lunging toward him.
Ilyukin recoiled, then relaxed as the young man stopped.
“He’s my friend. Do you think I’d want to win that way?”
The sports minister’s cordial grin was gone.
“What you want is of no consequence. The greater good must be served.”
“At what cost?”
“That is not a consideration,” Ilyukin said in a frighteningly cold tone.
“You must tell the truth.”
Now it was Ilyukin’s turn to laugh.
“Listen to yourself. Do you really expect me to do that?”
“You have no choice. The press conference is tomorrow. If the American has not been vindicated by then, I will go on the air and publicly renounce you.”
“Do you realize what that would do to the image of our country?” he asked, uncrossing his legs and planting his feet on the floor as if bracing for an earthquake.
“Yes, but that’s no longer one of my considerations.”
Dimitri took a few strides toward the door.
“Wait.”
He was stopped only by the fear in Ilyukin’s voice.
“Perhaps I can help your friend, but only if I have an assurance from you.”
“To do what?”
“Keep silent and agree to skate four more years.”
He stood considering it. Ilyukin rested his razor sharp elbows on the arms of the chair and clasped his hands together.
“So,” Ilyukin said slowly. “Now you have his future in your hands. You see what it is to feel that kind of power?”
Dimitri felt the hate welling in him as Ilyukin displayed the grin of a winner. “Why do you hesitate? You claim to be his friend. I’m asking for four years. Is that really too high a price to pay to save your friend?”
Paige hovered over Robby who refused to move from beside the phone. Dimitri would come through for him. He was sure of it. Carol had no such confidence. Her tough facade was beginning to crack. Alex’s face was strong and reassuring, though he didn’t smile hard enough to make his dimple appear. Leading her into the next room, he sat beside her on the bed, gently cupping her hand in his.
“This is my fault,” she said. “I could’ve saved him all this pain. He didn’t even enjoy competing. He did it to please me.”
“Then he’s a fool. Nobody puts themselves through hell for someone else.”
She longed to tell him how wrong he was. But he didn’t know Robby. And he certainly didn’t love him. Nobody loved him the way she did.
“Maybe now’s the time to get off the merry-go-round,” he said as if trying to pluck a thorn-laden rose. “If you detach yourself from this mess, you can still save your career.”
“Are you suggesting he took the drugs himself?”
“You know the pressure these kids are under. Maybe he—?”
She pulled her hand away and stood up.
“Would you say the same thing if Glenn was the one being accused?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know him anymore.”
How sad, she thought. At least she hadn’t lost that.
“You weren’t there. I saw his face. I know him better than I know myself. When I told him, he wasn’t pretending. He was scared to death. Do you know what it’s like to see someone you care about that much crumble right in front of you and know there’s not a damn thing you can do about it?”
Her fair skin grew even more drained as she ran a shaky hand across her forehead.
“I think I can imagine. It must be terrible,” he said, staring into her gaunt face. “He didn’t do it,” she protested.
“Maybe not, but—”
“Even if he did, it wouldn’t change my feelings for him.”
“I know,” he said, looking away.
He took her in his arms. It was exactly what she wanted. That, and to cry, but she didn’t.
Make it go away, she thought, remembering how her father could change her childish fears to laughter with a few words. Make it all go away!
“Okay. I’ll do what I can,” he said with sincerity, but little enthusiasm.
“When I told him…” she said softly. “He looked like a scared little boy. He’s still a child.”
“Only in your eyes.”
Chapter 20
It seemed as if every microphone and camera in the world had been stuffed into the room, full to the brim with international press and officials from the various skating bodies. Robby dodged blow after blow and still the salvos came hurling at him from the bank of reporters.
“Are you aware that no top skater has ever been suspended for drug use?” one asked, thoroughly relishing Robby’s predicament.
“Yes, and I’m not going to be the first.”
“You’re denying the charges?”
“Yes.”
Ilyukin watched with a smug grin from the back. Dimitri stood a few feet away, waiting. Another ten minutes passed and still there was no move by Ilyukin. His friend had held his ground bravely, but he was sinking.
The young man shook with fear as he approached the makeshift dais. Suddenly, a set of long bony fingers squeezed Dimitri’s arm like a vice. Quickly and quietly, he was pulled from the room.
Ilyukin shut the door, though the rumble of voices inside was still audible from the hall.
“What are you doing?” Ilyukin asked.
“Announcing my retirement… and yours,” Dimitri said without flinching. “You can’t do this.”
“No? And who’s going to stop me? You?” Dimitri continued, almost enjoying the moment.
“I’ll do what I must.”
“Yes. I’ve seen that. But unfortunately, this is one string you can’t pull. It is, however, a rope you may hang yourself with.”
“Play your word games. It changes nothing. I checked with all my people. It was not any of us who did this.”
Dimitri smiled.
“Then that will make this all the more enjoyable.”
For the first time Ilyukin appeared desperate.
“You made an agreement,” Ilyukin insisted.
“With a liar. Promises are kept only between men of honor.”
“Dimitri, my wife is very ill. This would—”
“Irina’s been on her deathbed for ten years. I suggest you try another tact.” Ilyukin focused his cold, dark eyes on Dimitri.
“You will skate.”
“All right,” Dimitri said with a confident nod. “But before I go to the rink, I think I’ll stop off at the sports ministry and discuss with the commissioner your amazing plan for developing Russian champions by eliminating anyone who stands in their path.”
“I told you, I had nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t waste my time,” he said, turning away.
“Why do you risk so much for someone you barely know?” the astonished man asked as he yanked him back.
“You can know someone for a lifetime and still feel safer with a stranger.”
“Sacrificing yourself will serve no purpose. Your friend is finished. He will always be tainted by this.”
The words ran through Dimitri like a dagger.
“Perhaps, but that’s not for us to decide.”
The press conference was about to be turned over to the President of the International Skating Union when Ilyukin re-entered the room and approached him. A few whispers were exchanged as everyone waited.
“Fellas, can you turn off those lights? It’s hot as hell in here as it is,” said the President as he unbuttoned his jacket.
A camera technician unplugged the blazing quartz floor lamps. Several men and women joined the discussion.
“How can we possibly back down now? We’ve made a public statement,” a distraught looking white-haired man said to Ilyukin.
“Mistakes happen all the time. Testing methods could easily be questioned,” he answered calmly.
“Don’t you think the British officials will raise the roof when we accuse them of screwing up?”
“Leave them to me,” Ilyukin said, calmly reaching for a glass of water.
“We’ll look like fools.”
“On the contrary. We’ll be seen as efficient for catching an error of such magnitude. It will be ultimate proof that our intentions are clearly for the good of all and that justice is the first priority,” he said, raising his finger in the air like a second rate politician.
“Oooeee! I smell some heavy-duty deals going down,” said a gristle-faced reporter who had pushed his way to the front row and strained to hear a few errant words.
Brody squeezed his way into the room, but couldn’t reach Robby in the crush of bodies. He stood in the back with Wasser who seemed fascinated by the proceedings.
“What the hell is it with you people?” Brody said. “I take off for five minutes and all hell breaks loose.”
“Did you get what you came here for?” Wasser asked.
“What?” Brody said, flustered.
“You think I was born yesterday? You’re a trainer like I’m the Queen of Sheba.”
“Why didn’t you bust me?”
“Cause I figure you had to do what you had to do. Just like everybody in dis damn screwy sport.”
Brody looked over at Robby.
“I don’t know him long, but I’d bet the farm that kid didn’t take any drugs.”
“You would be correct,” Wasser said.
“Then who’s responsible?”
“A blind man can still smell a dead rat in de basement,” Wasser said, casting a glance at Ralph Ratner who was backed into a corner looking more than a little uncomfortable.
There has to be some way out, Ratner thought. No way I’m going to let fifteen years go down the tubes. The jobs nobody else would do. The crap I took. Putting my ass on the line for the company. They’ll be there for me. They will. I did all this for them. They wouldn’t hang me out to dry.
Dimitri scanned the press corps and could see that the pack of blood hounds would not back down. As if launching himself into a triple jump, he cruised directly toward the dais. Before Ilyukin could stop him, he was at the microphone.
“I have a statement to make,” Dimitri said, his heart pounding so hard he was sure everyone could hear it.
He blinked at the explosion of flashes as cameras clicked wildly.
“I can’t allow an innocent man to be destroyed. Robby Donovan was purposely drugged in order to take him out of the competition and tarnish his reputation permanently. I know this to be true because…”
Ratner prepared to bolt from the room.
“Come on,” Brody begged, quietly. “Say it. Nail that son-of-a-bitch once and for all.”
“It was I who did it,” Dimitri declared.
A communal gasp filled the room. Ilyukin closed his eyes as his head fell forward.
“I take full responsibility for my actions and immediately renounce my medal. I will cooperate fully with the ISU in whatever way necessary to clear Robby Donovan’s name.”
Dimitri stepped back and took in the confused faces before him. He had committed suicide in front of the whole world. At least his world. And it felt good. Not because he wanted his career to end this way, but because finally he had the last word.
“Guess everybody has to be wrong sometime,” Brody said, genuinely disappointed.
Wasser seemed unfazed by Dimitri’s confession.
“I’m not wrong,” he insisted.
Brody riveted his gaze on Ratner.
He’s right. That’s the look of a man who just dodged a major bullet.
“I don’t believe his freakin’ luck,” Brody complained, wanting to smack the satisfied grin off Ratner’s face. “Go ahead. Enjoy it while you can, you bastard. Your time’s com
in’.”
“When one door closes,” said Wasser. “Another opens.”
Everyone waited as thirty tense minutes of official deliberations passed. Alex and Paige watched Carol holding Robby’s hand the whole time. Finally, the huddle dispersed. The President reluctantly approached the podium and cleared his throat twice.
“As you can imagine, this sort of thing can be very complicated. Well need some time to sort the situation out. At this point we’re not sure who did what or why. The one thing we can concur on is that we feel Robby Donovan did not have any part in the events that resulted in his positive test results. Pending further investigation, he’s cleared of the charges of taking a banned substance. His gold medal will not be revoked.”
“What about Pedorov?” a reporter asked.
“We’ll be looking into that. If he had a part in this, of course, he will have to relinquish his medal which would mean that Dale Fraser of Canada would then become the bronze medalist. Thank you. That’s all I have to say at this time.”
Carol and Robby hugged and hugged and hugged, then finally let go. It was over. Robby stared across the room at Dimitri who he knew wanted to smile back, but dared not. In the confusion, they slipped around a corner to have a brief moment together.
“Why?” Robby asked, still reeling from what he knew was a false confession. “It was the only way,” Dimitri said, not appearing particularly upset. “If I had accused Ilyukin, it would have meant nothing. I have no proof. And I think he may have been telling the truth when he said he didn’t do it.”
Then who did? Robby wondered before his thoughts and attention returned to his friend.
“Don’t look at me like I made such a big sacrifice,” Dimitri insisted. “I did it as much for me as for you. Now, I’m free. My federation no longer wants or needs me. Perhaps someday the truth will come out. Perhaps not. It doesn’t matter. What I feel inside is all that’s important.”
“What’ll they do to you… back home?” Robby asked.
“I’m not going home.”
“What about your little girl?”
“It’s all arranged.”
“Well, when you finally settle down someplace, if there’s anything I can do…”
It was time to say goodbye, but neither wanted to find the words. Dimitri laid his hand on Robby’s shoulder.