The Sky Is Falling (23 page)

“Maybe they’re reading the wrong books,” Dana said dryly.

“Maybe. Right now the people are caught in the middle, between capitalism and communism, and neither is working. There’s bad service, inflated costs, and a hell of a lot of crime.” He looked at Dana. “I hope I’m not depressing you.”

“No. Tell me, Tim, did you know Taylor Winthrop?”

“I interviewed him a few times.”

“Did you ever hear anything about some big project he was involved in?”

“He was involved in a lot of projects. After all, he was our ambassador.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about something different. Something very complicated — where all the pieces had to fall into place.”

Tim Drew thought for a moment. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Is there anyone here that he had a lot of contact with?”

“Some of his Russian counterparts, I suppose. You might talk to them.”

“Right,” Dana said. “I will.”

The waiter brought the check. Tim Drew scanned it and looked up at Dana. “This is typical. There are three separate surcharges on the bill. And don’t bother asking what any of them are for.” He paid the bill.

When they were out on the street, Tim Drew said to Dana, “Do you carry a gun?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Of course not. Why?”

“This is Moscow. You never know.” He got an idea. “I’ll tell you what. We’re going to make a stop.”

They got into a taxi, and Tim Drew gave the driver an address. Five minutes later they pulled up in front of a gun shop and got out of the taxi.

Dana looked inside the shop and said, “I’m not going to carry a gun.”

Tim Drew said, “I know. Just come with me.” The counters of the shop were filled with every type of weapon imaginable.

Dana looked around. “Can anybody walk in and buy a gun here?”

“All they need is the money,” Tim Drew said.

The man behind the counter muttered something in Russian to Tim. Tim told him what he wanted.

“
Da
.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a small, black, cylindrical object.

“What’s this for?” Dana asked.

“It’s for you. It’s pepper spray.” Tim Drew picked it up. “All you have to do is press this button at the top and the bad guys will be in too much pain to bother you.”

Dana said, “I don’t think—”

“Trust me. Take it.” He handed it to Dana, paid the man, and they left.

“Would you like to see a Moscow nightclub?” Tim Drew asked.

“Sounds interesting.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

The Night Flight Club on Tverskaya Street was lavish and ornate and crowded with well-dressed Russians dining, drinking, and dancing.

“There doesn’t seem to be any economic problem here,” Dana commented.

“No. They keep the beggars outside on the street.”

At two o’clock in the morning, Dana returned to her hotel, exhausted. It had been a long day. A woman was seated at a table in the hallway, keeping a record of the movements of the guests.

When Dana got to her room, she looked out the window. She had a picture-postcard view of soft snow falling in the moonlight.

Tomorrow
, Dana thought determinedly,
I’ll know what I’ve come here for
.

The noise from the jet overhead was so loud it sounded like the plane might hit the building. The man quickly rose from his desk, snatched up a pair of binoculars, and stepped to the window. The tail of the receding aircraft was rapidly descending as it prepared to land at the small airport a half mile away. Except for the runways, everything in the stark landscape was covered with snow as far as his eyes could see. It was winter and this was Siberia.

“So,” he said to his assistant, “the Chinese are the first to arrive.” His comment did not call for a reply. “I am told that our friend Ling Wong will not be back. When he returned from our last meeting empty-handed, it was not a happy homecoming for him. Very sad. He was a decent man.”

At that moment, a second jet roared overhead. He did not recognize the make. After it had landed, he trained his high-powered glasses on the men descending from the cabin onto the tarmac. Some of them made no effort to hide the machine pistols they were carrying.

“The Palestinians are here.”

Another jet roared overhead.
Still twelve to go
, he thought.
When we start negotiations tomorrow, it will be the biggest auction yet. Nothing must go wrong
.

He turned again to his assistant. “Take a memo.”

CONFIDENTIAL MEMO TO ALL OPERATION PERSONNEL: DESTROY IMMEDIATELY AFTER READING.

CONTINUE CLOSE SURVEILLANCE ON SUBJECT TARGET. REPORT ACTIVITIES AND STAND BY FOR HER POSSIBLE ELIMINATION.

WHEN DANA AWAKENED, she telephoned Tim Drew.

“Have you heard any more from Ambassador Hardy?” he asked.

“No. I think I offended him. Tim, I need to talk to you.”

“All right. Grab a cab and meet me at the Boyrsky Club at one-fourth Treatrilny Proyez Street.”

“
Where
? I’ll never—”

“The cabbie will know. Take one that’s beat-up.”

“Right.”

Dana stepped outside the hotel into a freezing, screaming wind. She was glad she was wearing her new red woolen coat. A sign on a building across the street informed her it was -29 degrees Centigrade.
My God
, she thought.
In Fahrenheit, that’s about 20 below zero
.

There was a shiny new taxi in front of the hotel. Dana stepped back and waited until a passenger got into it. The next taxi looked old. Dana took it. The driver looked at her inquiringly in the rearview mirror.

Dana said carefully, “I want to go to one-quarter Teat —” She hesitated. “— rilny —” She took a deep breath. “— Proyez—”

The driver said impatiently, “You want the Boyrsky Club?”

“Da.”

They took off. They drove along avenues heavy with motor traffic and forlorn pedestrians hurrying along the frozen streets. The city seemed overlaid with a dull, gray patina.
And it isn’t just the weather
, Dana thought.

The Boyrsky Club turned out to be modern and comfortable, with leather chairs and couches. Tim Drew was in a chair near the window waiting for her.

“I see you found it all right.”

Dana took a seat. “The cabdriver spoke English.”

“You’re lucky. Some of them don’t even speak Russian, they come from so many different distant provinces. It’s amazing that this country can function at all. It reminds me of a dying dinosaur. Do you know how big Russia is?”

“Not exactly.”

“It’s almost twice as big as the United States. It has thirteen time zones and borders on fourteen countries.
Fourteen countries
.”

“That’s amazing,” Dana said. “Tim, I want to talk to some Russians who had dealings with Taylor Winthrop.”

“That includes about everybody in the Russian government.”

Dana said, “I know. But there must have been some Russians he was closer to than others. The president—”

“Perhaps someone a little lower in rank,” Tim Drew said dryly. “I would say that of all the people he dealt with, he was probably closest to Sasha Shdanoff.”

“Who is Sasha Shdanoff?”

“He’s the commissar of the Bureau for International Economic Development. I believe Winthrop saw him socially as well as officially.” He looked at Dana closely. “What are you after, Dana?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “I’m not sure.”

The Bureau for International Economic Development was an enormous redbrick building on Ozernaya Street, taking up a full block. Inside the main entrance, two uniformed Russian policemen stood by the door, and a third uniformed guard sat behind a desk.

Dana walked up to the desk. The guard looked up.

“
Dobry dyen
,” Dana said.

“Zdrastvuytye. Ne —”

Dana stopped him. “Excuse me. I’m here to see Commissar Shdanoff. I’m Dana Evans. I’m with the Washington Tribune Network.”

The guard looked at a sheet in front of him and shook his head. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but—”

“Then you will have to make an appointment. You are an American?”

“Yes.”

The guard searched through some forms on his desk and handed one to Dana. “You will fill this out, please.”

“Right,” Dana said. “Would it be possible to see the commissar this afternoon?”

He blinked. “
Ya ne ponimayu
. You Americans are always in a hurry. What hotel are you at?”

“The Sevastopol. I just need a few min—”

He made a note. “Someone will inform you.
Dobry dyen
.”

“But —” She saw his expression. “
Dobry dyen
.”

Dana stayed in her room all afternoon waiting for a phone call. At six o’clock, she telephoned Tim Drew.

“Did you get to see Shdanoff?” he asked.

“No. They’re going to call me back.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Dana. You’re dealing with a bureaucracy from another planet.”

Early the following morning, Dana went back to the Bureau for International Economic Development. The same guard was at the desk.

“
Dobry dyen
,” Dana said.

He looked up at her, stone-faced. “
Dobry dyen
.”

“Did Commissar Shdanoff get my message yesterday?”

“Your name?”

“Dana Evans.”

“You left a message yesterday?”

“Yes,” she said tonelessly, “with you.”

The guard nodded. “Then he received it. All messages are received.”

“May I talk to Commissar Shdanoff’s secretary?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Dana took a deep breath. “No.”

The guard shrugged. “
Izvinitye, nyet
.”

“When can I—?”

“Somebody will call you.”

On her way back to the hotel, Dana passed Detsky Mir, a children’s department store, and she went inside and looked around. There was a section devoted to games. In one corner was a shelf of computer games.
Kemal will like one of those
, Dana thought. She bought a game and was surprised at how expensive it was. She headed back to the hotel to wait for the phone call. At six o’clock she gave up hope. She was about to go downstairs to dinner when the phone rang. Dana hurried over to it and picked it up.

“Dana?” It was Tim Drew.

“Yes, Tim.”

“Any luck yet?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, while you’re in Moscow, you shouldn’t miss what’s great here. The ballet is on tonight. They’re doing
Giselle
. Are you interested?”

“Very much, thank you.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

The ballet was held at the six-thousand-seat Palace of Congresses inside the Kremlin. It was a magical evening. The music was wonderful, the dancing was fantastic, and the first act flew by swiftly.

As the lights came on for the intermission, Tim got to his feet. “Follow me. Quick.”

A stampede was starting up the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.”

When they arrived at the top floor, they were greeted by the sight of half a dozen serving tables laden with bowls of caviar and bottles of vodka on ice. The theatergoers who had arrived upstairs first were busily helping themselves.

Dana turned to Tim. “They really know how to put on a show here.”

Tim said, “This is how the upper class lives. Remember that thirty percent of the people live below the poverty line.”

Dana and Tim moved toward the windows, away from the crowd.

The lights started to flash. “Time for the second act.”

The second act was enchanting, but Dana’s mind kept flashing back to snatches of conversations.

Taylor Winthrop was
scheisse.
He was clever, very clever. He framed me
…

It was an unfortunate accident. Gabriel was a wonderful boy…

Taylor Winthrop wiped out the Mancino family’s future…

When the ballet ended, and they were in the car, Tim Drew said, “Would you like to have a nightcap at my apartment?”

Dana turned to look at him. He was attractive, intelligent, and charming. But he was not Jeff. What came out was “Thank you, Tim. But no.”

“Oh.” His disappointment was obvious. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d love to, but I have to be ready early in the morning.”
And I’m madly in love with someone else
.

Early the next morning Dana was at the Bureau for International Economic Development again. The same guard was behind the desk.

“Dobry dyen.”

“Dobry dyen.”

“I’m Dana Evans. If I can’t see the commissar, can I see his assistant?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I—”

He handed Dana a sheet of paper. “You will fill this out…”

When Dana returned to her room, her cell phone was ringing, and Dana’s heart skipped a beat.

“Dana…”

“Jeff!”

There was so much they wanted to say. But Rachel stood between them like a ghostly shadow, and they could not discuss what was uppermost in their minds: Rachel’s illness. The conversation was guarded.

The call from Commissar Shdanoff’s office came unexpectedly at eight o’clock the following morning. A heavily accented voice said, “Dana Evans?”

“Yes.”

“This is Yerik Karbava, the assistant to Commissar Shdanoff. You wish to see the commissar?”

“Yes!” She half expected him to say, “Do you have an appointment?” Instead he said, “Be at the Bureau for Economic Development in exactly one hour.”

“Right. Thank you very —” The line went dead.

One hour later Dana was entering the lobby of the huge brick building again. She walked up to the same guard seated behind the desk.

He looked up. “
Dobry dyen
?”

She forced a smile. “
Dobry dyen
. I’m Dana Evans, and I’m here to see Commissar Shdanoff.”