“Take your hands off him. I have a gun.”
“What?” Turning, incredulous, a sharp intake of breath, the beginning of a laugh, then a stillness, seeing Simon’s face. “There’s only one way you could have got it. What did you promise him?”
“That you’d go through with the deal. And you will.”
“Jimbo, a gun from the CIA? That’s a death warrant. There’s no diplomatic cover for that. Not if you have a gun. Let me have it.”
Involuntarily Simon clutched at the coat in his lap, Frank glancing down.
“The idea was that you’d be at the other end of it. If there was any trouble.”
“Get rid of it then. Toss it off the pier, junk it somewhere—just get rid of it.”
“Later. When everything’s okay.”
“You’d never use it.”
Simon stared at him.
“A gun,” Nancy said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jo said to Frank.
“Because you were never going to go,” Simon said, answering for him. “Nobody was. It was just a story he told to get them to come to him. You weren’t part of it.”
“But now I am? Thanks to you?”
“We’ll get you out.”
“Out.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Frank said.
Simon looked at him. “Don’t try to stop this. We all have to go now. We’re on the same side. The Service just put us there.”
“You put us there.”
The outskirts of Vyborg were ugly, an industrial wasteland of chemical smoke and rusting pipes and chain-link fences, the old Finnish fishing port lost to one of the five-year plans. The center, with a cluster of historical buildings, was more attractive but just as dilapidated, everything sagging with neglect. Narrow streets, Simon noted. Traps.
“Go to the station, but don’t stop. Just drive by and then around the park.”
“What are we doing?”
“I want to see who’s there. If there’s a reception committee. I told DiAngelis the quay was a short walk from the station. So he’ll think we’re coming by train. If there’s a leak, so will they. Frank, this ought to be easy for you. They’d be your people. You should be able to spot them right away.”
“You’re expecting me to help you?”
“It’s your skin. You’re the one trying to escape, not me.”
“They won’t believe that.”
“Yes, they will. I can leave anytime. I don’t have to make a run for the border. Now tell me what you see. Hal, slow, so we can get a good look.”
The park on the map turned out to be another Soviet public space with a statue, some untended flower beds, and a swing set. No children playing. The station looked abandoned, a station without passengers or taxis. There were a few utility vehicles parked near the end, but otherwise the street in front was empty. Across, on the square, a few cars, all black, indistinguishable, the Volvo an exotic by comparison.
“The Leningrad train’s due in about fifteen minutes,” Simon said. “So they should be here. If they’re here.”
“How do you know? About the train?” Frank said.
“I checked.”
“Checked how?” An almost professional curiosity.
“The concierge. Who will confirm that we took the train.”
Frank raised his eyebrows, a kind of salute.
“What are we looking for?” Hal said.
“Two men sitting in a car,” Simon said. “Your next gift to DiAngelis,” he said to Frank. “Kelleher was the deposit. This will be something on account. Give your credentials a boost.”
Frank looked at him, uncertain, still trying to work everything out.
“Too many people know about Tallinn. But nobody knows about this, just me and DiAngelis. If there’s a leak, all he has to do is make a list of who else he told. A short list this time. And he has him. Thanks to you.”
“If there’s a leak.”
“I’m guessing there is. And if there is, we’d be sitting targets in a boat. So let’s find out.”
“They’re empty,” Hal said, looking at the parked cars. “Wait. There’s somebody.”
“One. There’d be two.”
“He’s in the station,” Frank said.
Simon looked at him.
“One inside, one out. Service rules. Target covered front and back. When he hits the street, the grab. No scene in the station.”
Simon nodded. “So now we know. What was that?” he said to Frank, sharp.
“What?”
“With the hand. Some kind of signal? I mean it, Frank—”
“Nervous?” Frank said, unable to resist.
“You still don’t get it. If there’s a leak, they know I arranged for another boat. For you. Otherwise, why not just wait for Tallinn? You don’t want to try anything. They think you’re running.”
Frank said nothing, eyes still calculating, someone looking for an exit.
“This street goes to the port,” Hal said.
“No, turn left, go around behind the park. We don’t want to go near the boats. They’ve probably got another car there.”
“What makes you think that?” Frank said. “If we’re coming by train.”
“You’re a big catch. They wouldn’t want you to slip away. How often do they get the chance in Vyborg? So what’s another car?”
“And when we don’t get off the train?”
“They wait for the next. Pull up over here,” he said to Hal.
They were at the far end of the park, the station entrance still visible through a few scraggly trees.
“Now what?” Hal said.
“Now you and Nancy get out and take the train.” He glanced at his watch. “Time enough to get tickets but not enough to sit around and have people wonder. You’ll be in Helsinki in a few hours.”
“But my story. You promised—”
“You’ve got plenty of story already and I’ll give you more. But now it’s not safe. We’re going to have to drive. That means border crossings. I don’t want you to have to risk that. Or Nancy. You’re still okay on your own. With us—”
“More scruples, Simon?” Frank said. “I told you they’d trip you up.”
“But this is the story,” Hal said. “This is what I came for.”
“But if it’s risky,” Nancy said.
“Trip me up how?” Simon said to Frank.
“The smart one,” Frank said. “Take a look around. What do you see? Leningrad? How many American couples do you think just walk into that station and buy a ticket for Helsinki? I’d say none. Exit visa? I doubt they’ve even seen one. They’d have to check. With the authorities. And there goes the train. Your problem is that you don’t know the Soviet Union. You’re a stranger here. You don’t know what’s plausible.”
“Oh, God,” Nancy said.
“He’s right,” Hal said. “And what do I say about the car?”
“We stole it.”
Hal shook his head. “To take it out of the country, the registration has to match the visa. It has to be me.”
“Another detail,” Frank said.
“Anyway,” Hal said, “we’ve already taken the risk. We’d be accessories. We have to get you out now.”
Simon was quiet, looking from Hal to Frank and back.
“The clock is ticking,” Frank said.
“What’s involved?” Simon said finally. “The drive. Checkpoints.”
“We’re about an hour from the border. Two checkpoints. First is the formal one—customs, search the car, all that. Then one military, just a pole barrier, like for a train. Then the Finns.”
“Two checkpoints?”
“It’s the Soviet Union.”
“And the Finns have the same thing on the other side?”
Hal shook his head. “Nobody’s going into Russia. Just trucks coming back. The road’s okay. I’ve driven worse. About an hour. The big holdup’s the first crossing. They like to go over the car. After that it’s just woods. The soldiers get curious—there’s nothing else to do—but a cigarette or two and they’re all smiles. Assuming your papers are all right. You have visas?”