“I’ll think of something.”
“Indeed. Is my brother badly hurt?”
“He’ll wake up with an aching jaw and a good-sized lump on his cranium where his head hit the bedpost. Does that disturb you?”
“Actually, it pleases me.” Aleksei downed a slug of vodka like it was water. “Kiril’s independent nature has always needed a few hard knocks.”
“I presume you have a limousine waiting?”
“A limousine to take you and your lovely wife to the airport, where you’ll board an executive jet for Zurich. The same plane will return you and me to Moscow in the morning.”
“Then let’s get to it.” He headed for the table where Adrienne Brenner sat leaning back in her chair.
Aleksei’s hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks.
“I have my own precondition, Dr. Brenner. A group of extremely curious newsmen are waiting impatiently in the lounge. They’re expecting to hear something out of the ordinary. Naturally, I cannot disappoint them. As soon as I invite them in, you will announce your intention to defect to the Soviet Union. Then you may escort your wife to Zurich.”
“So that after I leave, it will be difficult for me to change my mind.”
“Can you blame me? But you also benefit. Your parents are already in Zurich. Think of how your decision to take a—shall we call it a sabbatical?—in Moscow will soften the blow for them. By the time you reach Zurich, they’ll have had time to absorb what happened. I will arrange everything. We have friends in all the key Western cities who will make sure the press is alerted.”
“The ultimate argument, Colonel. The hostage game. And I’m not even on Soviet soil yet.” Arching a contemptuous eyebrow, he said, “Very well. Let’s get this over with.”
“One last piece of advice. Your announcement can be as brief as you like. Just make sure it lacks the flavor of coercion. Keep in mind that a decision to defect is not made on the spur of the moment between cocktails and dinner.”
“I’ll do my best. Now if you’ll give me a moment alone with my obviously inebriated wife…” Without waiting for an answer, he moved to the table and took Adrienne’s hands in his.
She looked up at him. “Where’ve you been? Honestly, Kurt, making an entrance is one thing but… uh oh, I think I’m tipsy.”
Gently, he pulled her to her feet. “I know you are, dear, and I’m sorry. We’ll leave in about five minutes. Will you do something for me in the meantime?” he asked as he draped the cape around her shoulders.
She nodded, embarrassed by the state she was in. Disarmed by his uncharacteristic solicitude.
Noticing her suitcase in his hand, she said, “Where’s yours?”
“Later. I have an announcement to make to some newsmen— something you won’t begin to understand. But as soon as we board the plane, I’ll explain. Until then I don’t want these people to see your reaction. Mind waiting for me in the lounge outside? The press is about to come bursting in. The minute I finish dealing with them, we’ll take the elevator down and a limo will take us to the airport. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Shall I call the newsmen in, Dr. Brenner?” Aleksei asked.
“How about a simultaneous transition? You open the doors for the press while I move my wife outside to that bench near the bank of elevators. She avoids pandemonium, you avoid distraction.”
“Tit for tat. How American! Fine by me,” Aleksei said with a shrug.
As Adrienne Brenner was escorted out, Aleksei waved the press in, cautioning Brenner to hold off while the lights and television cameras got ready to swing into action. That done, he signaled Brenner to mount the platform.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman, microphone in hand, “I think I have spoiled your dinner, or at least delayed it unconscionably, for which I deeply apologize. In that spirit, my announcement will be brief.”
A good beginning, Aleksei mused.
“I have kept you waiting because I was in the throes of a difficult decision,” he continued.
And paused to take a deep, almost labored, breath. “To better serve the humanitarian goals to which my professional life has been devoted, I have decided to practice medicine in the Soviet Union. For how long,” he added quickly, “I am not yet certain. I’m sure you realize that a decision to defect, even for an indeterminate period of time, is not something one makes between cocktails and dinner.”
Aleksei positively beamed.
“Suffice to say, my decision is the culmination of a great deal of soul-searching.”
He stepped off the platform, fought his way onto the main floor of the banquet room, and was swept along by a frenetic tide of people. At least the tide was moving inexorably toward the exit.
Poor Adrienne was being engulfed by a rush of eager faces and unintelligible questions. Just before he got to her, a reporter flashed his press credentials in her face, and asked if she planned to join her husband in Moscow.
“No comment,” she said, her expression dazed. “Please, I have nothing to say.”
Seizing her arm, he propelled her to the bank of elevators—and got lucky. An elevator door slid open and the car was empty. He pressed a button and down they went.
Not so lucky. The elevator had slowed instead of going all the way down. Could they possibly be stopping on the same floor that housed what had euphemistically become known as “the Brenner Suite”?
Galya leaned against the elevator car, disheveled and in obvious distress.
I must say goodbye to Adrienne Brenner before it’s too late!
The inner command had broken through her lethargy after she’d learned of the Brenners’ imminent departure for Zurich. From her room on the same floor, she had managed to navigate the corridor, hoping against hope that they hadn’t finished packing yet. If they had, maybe she could still catch them before they left the hotel.
She pressed the down button. The elevator hissed to a stop. The door opened.
A woman was inside, a man behind her, but Galya saw only Adrienne Brenner. Turning to her, she impulsively took hold of Adrienne’s hands.
“You will please to forgive,” she murmured. “I have answered your so wonderful kindness with insults. I am so ashamed.”
Adrienne’s eyes welled up. She pulled Galya into her arms, the two of them swaying slightly.
She half-turned as she heard the man’s voice.
“My wife and I will never forget your many kindnesses, Galina Barkova, when you and Kiril Andreyev were our tour guides.”
Galya froze at the sound of his words, his voice…
She looked into Kiril’s face, then the white hair—
Dear god in heaven, don’t let me give him away! If Adrienne Brenner doesn’t seem to recognize it’s Kiril and not her husband, then neither does Colonel Andreyev…
“Whatever you do, wherever you go, Dr. Brenner,” she said softly, forcing the words past a barrier of pain because she knew she would never see him again, “may it be with good luck and good fortune.”
“You’re very kind.” Kiril reached for her hand and gently pulled her close—close enough to whisper against her forehead, “Goodbye, Galya dear. I will never forget you.”
Chapter 41
Galya was on the bed in her room when a voice cut into her thoughts.
“I think your services will soon be needed elsewhere, Galina Barkova.”