by Risk, Mona
Sergei unfolded his big frame and cleared his throat. He spoke in Russian while the attendees listened in reverent silence. The unintelligible words flowed over her. Cecile studied his noble face, waiting for the interpreter to take over. Sergei’s voice rose and enthusiasm suffused his speech. She heard her name mentioned more than once. The word robota kept on coming several times. The general concluded with, “robota, robota, robota.”
The interpreter translated the lengthy monologue and concluded on Sergei’s behalf. “Dr. Lornier has insisted on excellent performance. She has repeated ‘we will work, work, work.’ And I greatly appreciate her effort in reorganizing the Belchem Lab. Spacibo bolshoye. Thank you, Dr. Lornier.”
The general waited, straight and proud during the translation and raised his glass for his first toast. “Dr. Lornier, Na zdorovie.”
Like a well-orchestrated ballet, the guests sprang from their chairs, raised their glasses toward her and repeated, “Na zdorovie.” They emptied the shot glasses in one collective swift motion. Cecile remained seated and brought the vodka to her lips, sipping slowly. She nodded using her newly acquired Russian, “Spacibo bolshoye. Thank you.”
When the guests sat back, John delivered his response and thanked the general for his hospitality and graciousness. Everyone stood again and downed the second glass. Hierarchy played a role even for toasting. Nicouvitch gave a toast, followed by Kadelov. John kicked her foot under the table. She stiffened and glanced his way. He winked at her.
Cecile pushed her chair back and scanned her audience. Sergei encouraged her with a smile. Everyone’s gaze focused on her. In the pregnant silence that followed, she raised an almost full shot glass.
“General Fedorin, dear friends and colleagues, I can’t find enough words to describe my happiness at being here in Minsk to work on such an important project.”
She paused for a second and turned toward Sergei. “Tomorrow, the local chemists will collect samples. We will take them to Boston to be analyzed in our EAL lab, as you asked. General, I promise you that with the help of Dr. Kadelov, my staff and I will do our best to deserve your trust and from now on everybody will work, work, work. Robota, robota, robota. Na zdorovie, to all of you.”
In an emotional uproar, they cheered her and downed their vodka. The general took her hand and bent over it. He swiftly trailed a warm kiss from her palm to her wrist. “Spacibo bolshoye, Dr. Robota.” She didn’t need translation. He’d bestowed on her a name that, from now on, many Belarusians would use with respect when talking about her. In the middle of the noise, he murmured, “Thank you for the samples, my Cecilya.”
After dinner, the general and his guests adjourned to the club reception room. One of the officers opened an accordion while Nicouvitch adjusted his guitar. The music started, soft and languorous. Two of the officers began to sing. Their baritone voices enchanted her. She remembered that when Nicolai had invited her, he’d specified dinner, toasts, music and dance. Would Sergei…?
The general clicked his heels and bowed in front of her. “May I have the honor?” She put her hand in his outstretched one. They danced in the middle of the hall. John followed with Tania.
“You’re doing a great job, Dr. Lornier,” Sergei said in a voice loud enough to be heard by the officers around them. A moment later, he murmured, “Tomorrow is your last day for this trip.” He raised his voice and for a few minutes, he jumbled loud neutral sentences with whispered words, holding two conversations with her at once, a private and a public.
“We count on you to restore the lab... I need to see you... I told my superior at the Ministry of Defense they could count on you... Spend your last night with me... My officers will facilitate your work in every possible way... Nicolai will bring you... Thank you Dr. Lornier... I’ll miss you terribly.”
Cecile fought to maintain her cool composure. Being in his arms and acting in a businesslike manner was exhausting. She eased away and smiled playing the game. “Yes, General, it’ll be as you say… I’ll miss you too.”
Chapter Nine
The wind tossed back her raincoat hood and the icy rain slapped her face and drizzled down her neck. Cecile shivered and wrapped her coat tightly around her. John followed her from the van and proceeded up the tilted marble stairs of the Belchem Lab.
Dr. Kadelov darted down and extended a courteous hand to help her inside the building. “Dobroye outroh, Good morning. Dr. Robota.”
Cecile tried to tidy the rumpled and wet strands plastered to her forehead. As she shoved her gloved hands into her pockets, she forced a smile. “Good morning, Alexander. Is everything ready?” she mumbled through chattering teeth. “Today is our last day in Minsk. We will wrap up the work.”
“Yes, da. My lab manager will update you on the chemists’ progress to organize the lab. Then, you can proceed with your audit.”
“Great. I’d like to start our meeting as soon as possible.”
Alexander nodded. “Da, okay, niet problema, no problem.”
They went down the long dark corridor. Kadelov activated the lock combination to the laboratory. The five chemists came to greet them and gathered around Tania, monopolizing her attention and speaking in Russian. As she removed her wet raincoat, Cecile tried to detect familiar words out of the cacophony. She understood from the interpreter that the chemists had followed her instructions and worked very hard to clean their laboratory.
She rubbed her hands and shivered again. “I don’t know how they work in such a cold place. I’m always freezing.”
“Dr. Lornier, the Belchem chemists would like to invite you and John to tea and cake in the manager’s office before you start the lab round.”
With a genuine smile of gratitude, Cecile acquiesced. “A cup of hot tea would be heaven right now.”
General Fedorin and Colonel Nicouvitch arrived on time to share their little celebration.
“Good morning, Dr. Lornier,” Sergei said with an official voice and a warm gaze.
“Dobroye outroh, Dr. Robota.” Nicolai grinned. “Did you recover from last night’s party and our many toasts?”
She nodded with a smile. “Good morning. You sure know how to throw a great party. I had a lot of fun and I feel fine.”
They crowded the small room where innumerable books piled up to the ceiling and cluttered the bookcase and the desk. A cleared area accommodated an antique copper samovar, the china cups and several plates. One of the chemists poured the tea and pointed to the food. Tania translated. “Help yourself. We have cake, cookies, cheese and black bread.”
Cecile, touched by their hospitality and their eagerness to please her, rotated the hot cup between her hands and swallowed the boiling tea. At last, a warm feeling seeped into her bones. “Thank you. Spacibo bolshoye. I feel much better. You’re all so nice. I’m falling in love with this place and its people.” And one particular Major General. She tasted the cake and licked her lips. “The cake is delicious.”
The chemists understood her body language and limited vocabulary and beamed at her approval. Cecile finished her tea and glanced at the general. “Thank you, my friends. I appreciate your hospitality. Now I think we should start our daily work.”
While the chemists and their manager shuffled back into the lab, Kadelov ushered his guests toward his office. John and Cecile sat in front of the desk, waiting. The Belarusians officers lagged behind, still conversing. With a quick flip of the wrist, Cecile looked at her watch and strummed her fingers on the desk. “Gentlemen, we can start as soon as you’re settled.”
John waggled a finger under her nose. “Cecile, let it never be said that you waste one single minute of your precious working time.”
“John,” she said, with a brisk edge to her voice. “I have a contract to fulfill and a lab to refurbish in a limited time.” She spun toward the lab director and made an effort to soften her tone. “Dr. Kadelov, we need to add four more chemists to the laboratory staff. I’d like to see resumes and interview the applicants. I’ll hire them
myself.”
“That can be arranged. I will provide a dozen resumes before you leave. The next time you come, you can carry on the interviews and the hiring.”
She nodded her thanks and caught the fleeting smile lingering on the general’s lips. He seemed impressed—or amused—by her authoritative tone.
John huffed with impatience. “Alexander, for heaven’s sake, get on with your report before this Dr. Robota chastises us for laziness.” He banged the table with his beefy wrist. “And please, now that we’re all good friends bonded by innumerable vodka toasts, can you speak in English? It’ll shorten your speech by half the time.”
“I’m sorry, my friend, official speeches have to be delivered in Russian.” Kadelov pointed to the lamps hanging from the ceiling and shrugged. They understood the silent comment. His office still carried the surveillance system installed by the former KGB. And the officers in the Bureau of National Security needed to hear solid Russian.
The general approved. “By all means, Dr. Kadelov, proceed in Russian.”
John grimaced and scowled at the spying lamps. “Well, if you have to talk in Russian, at least cut the crap,” he mumbled in a grumpy voice. “I warn you, my threshold for listening—whether in Russian, English or both—is ten minutes. After that I start snoring and that is difficult to translate.”
With a big grin, Kadelov negotiated his report at a hundred words a minute. Tania scribbled as fast as she could and translated at the same speed. Satisfied, John leaned against the back of his chair. Cecile smiled and jotted some notes.
After precisely ten minutes, Kadelov stopped, glimpsed at his watch, inhaled and exhaled, triumphant as a runner breaking his personal record. John clapped his hands. “Great speech, Dr. Kadelov,” he declared with a thunderous voice while glaring at the spying lamps. “Excellent work, highly commendable. And now, with your permission, General Fedorin, let’s inspect the lab. I need to move my stiff legs.”
With Alexander leading the way, they strolled back along the cold dark corridor. The general retained Cecile behind the group. “Dr. Lornier, I hope you’ll be satisfied with the lab improvements.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I would like to see you tonight. Nicolai will pick you up in his old Volvo at seven-thirty and drive you to my flat. He will bring you a local coat and chapka, a Russian hat, to avoid attracting attention while going into my building.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have my own. I planned to buy some clothes anyway,” she replied in the same hushed way, then raised her tone. “With the Belchem Laboratory ready, General, we’ll be able to expedite the equipment as soon as we return to Boston.”
The group dispersed between the various labs. Cecile caught up with John for the official audit. They spent two hours noting the positive changes.
The glassware was neatly arranged on shelves. The refrigerator harbored only chemicals—no illicit vodka hidden in a corner. The Bunsen burners were tucked under the big hood and the benches, free of clutter, reminded her of her impeccable EAL lab.
Kadelov followed on their heels. Every time they stopped to examine an item, he would anxiously ask, “Okay?” then beamed with delight when Cecile or John nodded their approval. There was still room for improvement but her serenity, handily restored by the general’s request, prompted her to show leniency. She congratulated the Belchem Lab supervisor and chemists for their tremendous efforts at cleaning and reorganizing their laboratories.
Continuing her audit with John, she inspected the few computers. She had installed new software and asked the technicians to practice. Instead of playing games, they were now writing letters and preparing their grocery lists. Serious progress.
They regrouped into Dr. Kadelov’s office. Jubilant, Alexander Kadelov rubbed his hands. “So, Dr. Robota, are you pleased? Have we passed inspection? Can we expect to receive the instruments on time?”
“There is still room for improvement but right now I’m very satisfied.”
“In that case, let’s celebrate the achievement of my staff with a little toast and a light lunch,” Dr. Kadelov suggested.
Cecile shook her head. “You can celebrate. I’m stealing Tania to do some last-minute shopping. Women’s shopping.”
“Go ahead, my dear,” John said with a yawn. “Nothing bores me more than shopping with my wife. She spends hours choosing and trying on dresses.” A chorus of male voices agreed.
Cecile stretched a hand toward the lab director. “Dr. Kadelov, will I see you tomorrow at the Hall of Officers? As soon as the equipment arrives in Minsk send me a fax. Do you know who’s going to transfer it from the airport to the lab?”
Before the lab director could answer, John raised a hand. “The equipment is EAL’s responsibility until it’s installed in the lab. Therefore when Kadelov informs you of its arrival in Minsk, Cecile, you will come back here to retrieve it from the airport and Colonel Nicouvitch will help you clear customs.” He turned toward Kadelov. “And you will arrange for transportation. It’s a joint effort my friends, I will accompany you to inspect the procedure. Does that answer your question, Dr. Lornier?”
“Perfectly well. Until then, gentlemen.” She headed to the door.
“Hey, I’ll see you at seven in the lobby for dinner and fun.” John rubbed his hands. “Remember, it’s our last night in Minsk.”
As if she could ever forget it! It was her last night with Sergei for this trip. And who knew when she’d be back in Belarus. She hadn’t been able to fully concentrate on the audit with that thought swirling in her mind.
Cecile halted and grimaced. “Maybe I won’t be up to staying out late after hours of shopping. If you don’t see me in the lobby, don’t wait for me. And don’t get too drunk.”
The general stood. “Gentlemen, continue your work and your celebration. I’m going back to the Ministry of Defense.”
Cecile walked out to the corridor followed by the general. John’s last words, diffused but clear, reached her through the open door. “She doesn’t have anything else in mind but work. Such a pretty woman. What a waste.” She could imagine the Contract Director shaking his head. There were no comments from the Belarusians.
Raising an upset brow, she glared at the door. The general touched her shoulder. “Let them think what they want. It is better this way. We will enjoy our evening in peace.” He winked at her. “But I share John’s opinion. It would be a waste to leave such a pretty woman alone.”
She shrugged and grinned, reassured.
They found Tania in the hall. The general strolled to his Jeep. Cecile followed Tania to the van. “Tania, I need to buy winter clothes. Take me to your best stores. John will return with Colonel Nicouvitch.”
The girl smiled with enthusiasm. “All right! We’ll do some women’s shopping. I know two nice boutiques.”
It was still drizzling and cold. Tania darted to open the car doors and turned on the heating. Warm air suffused the small space. Between May and November, a good-running car could be the only place to revitalize a freezing body. Cecile leaned against the back of the seat and relaxed in the cozy haven.
Delighted with the opportunity to tour the expensive stores, Tania maneuvered the spotless VW with speed and dexterity. She avoided the major arteries of the capital and detoured through the almost empty streets of residential areas.
“You finished work early today. Is everybody going back to the hotel now?” she asked curiously.
Cecile shook her head. “The men are having drinks in Dr. Kadelov’s office. It’s our last night here.”
“We will miss you, Dr. Lornier. I hope you will return soon.”
“Probably.” As soon as I possibly can. Cecile sighed. Being away from Sergei was going to be terribly hard. “I have to receive the equipment and deliver it to the lab.”
Tania slowed down and came to a complete stop in front of an elegant store with well-lit window. “I’m sure you will like this place. But it’s expensive. I’ll bargain for you,” Tania said with aplomb.
Th
ey spent two hours visiting the boutiques. Cecile examined the coats and modeled in front of a mirror. Tania circled around her like an excited puppy, offering comments and suggestions.
Cecile selected a brown coat that fell to mid-calf. “How do I look?” She pirouetted in front of Tania.
The girl approved with a big smile. “I like the mink collar that crosses over the chest to double-button at the waist. And the wrists are trimmed with the same fur. Elegant and warm. You won’t freeze all the time.” Tania suggested a Russian mink hat to complement the coat.
Inspired by her chauffeur, Cecile bought a pair of leather boots with heels three inches high. Tania applauded. “That’s the way to go.”
“Not at all my style,” Cecile lamented.
Tania shook her head with importance. “You may be a great chemist, Dr. Lornier but when it comes to clothes you need some serious coaching. Next time you come to Minsk, don’t bring those shapeless suits. I will take you for more shopping.”
Bemused by the girl’s honest effrontery, Cecile gasped. “Tania, what are you saying?”
“Dr. Lornier, trust me when it comes to fashion. You should see some of the elegant women I drive around, foreign or wealth women, and even our vice-president’s wife. They know how to dress. Nothing flashy but so becoming and fashionable. I will teach you how to enhance your figure.”
With narrowed eyes and an inquisitive look, the pretty guide scanned her from top to bottom. “You’re not bad at all, Dr. Lornier.” Tania gave her diagnosis with a naïve indulgence. “Regular features, interesting eyes, gorgeous hair. You’re tall and slim with good curves and…and I don’t understand why you insist on hiding your shapely legs.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Dumbfounded, Cecile gave up on arguing. “I’ll let you help me on my next trip when I have more time.”
At the actual exchange rate of the Belarusian ruble, her purchases cost her ten times less than in Boston. Yet, Tania insisted on bargaining and lowering the price. On a sudden impulse, Cecile asked her guide to choose a jacket and offered it to her.