He snorted. “An interesting sort of love — you support a charlatan who turns young people into zombie thugs. They spew poison and slander, glorify Stalin and the new “vozhd,”[3] attack people about whom the country should be proud, bully old women and anyone else who thinks differently. Such people are cowards, mockers who rely on force and lies. They’re rude, stupid street punks. This is degradation, Olga. This is the transformation of people into crude beasts. But you — you weren’t always like this. I don’t understand how Solntsev managed to brainwash you.”
“You’re the brainwashed one.” Resentment bubbled in her chest. “Have you repeated pro-American banalities so often, hoping they’ll give you table scraps, that you actually believe them? You never appreciated the Motherland; you can’t imagine living for her, fighting for her. You’re ready to drag it all out in the open: the foreign stuff, the hostile stuff, just like the kind of newspaper trash you dragged to school. You would betray the very best of what we are for a pack of chewing gum because you never cared for anything that’s worthwhile to a normal Russian. You’re ready to sell our history and culture for a pair of phony smiles from people who want to destroy us.”
Her anger spread to him like fire in a forest. “History and culture? Don’t tell me you didn’t know that your ‘Hitler Youth’ ransacked Golovina’s office. She’s our history, our living history, the real thing with all its cruelty and its heroes. Our science — Sakharov exiled to Gorkiy, our culture — Tsvetaeva committing suicide in exile from hunger and isolation or tormented like Zoshchenko and Akhmatova. Russia has always destroyed her best people. But I hoped that in our time it all would be done with. “
“‘Svoi’ had nothing to do with that.” Had she not only recently decided that she would lie to anyone for the sake of the cause? She was a woman and could not serve in the military. Unlike Gleb she had no experience working with the FSB. She had never held a weapon in her hands. But she was fighting here and now by word and deed. This corrupt populist didn’t deserve to know the truth. He would never understand.
“You really don’t know the truth?” His voice was filled with doubt. “They made a video and it’s become a regular propaganda feature on NTV. The guy in the video was immediately identified. He’s spoken at meetings of your organization. There can be no mistake. The whole country knows who did it. There’s no way you don’t know. Did that murderer Solntsev teach you to lie so well?”
Olga choked with anger and resentment. “Murderer? Do you know where he worked and with whom? He served in the FSB, fought terrorism, risked his life so that people like you can sleep peacefully. He defended everybody, Vlad. All people, all beliefs, including you. You hate the people in his profession, but they keep you safe. And you say this isn’t honorable? Do you know anything about honor, about dangerous professions and real achievements?”
“Olga,” Vlad spoke as though to a small child. “The FSB organized the bombing of apartment buildings in our city and others fifteen years ago. And it was Solntsev himself who was in charge of the bombings in Moscow — personally in charge. His subordinate from Ryazan has already confessed. Just wait a few days — my father will publish a lot of material about this with proof, eyewitness accounts, quotes. Your idol cold-bloodedly murdered people while they slept peacefully in their own beds. You or I might have been in one of those buildings. He might have killed us with no thought, not even knowing that we exist. How old were we then? Ten? Would you have wanted to die as a 10-year-old child at his hands?”
“This is nonsense!” Was he insane? “Do you even understand what you’re saying? You’ve picked up rumors, gossip, slander… You don’t dare spread such abominations. You don’t know Gleb. You don’t know him, at all. He could never have done that. You can’t even imagine the kind of man he is, the soul he has, his qualities, the way he relates to people. You just can’t… Vlad, promise me that you and your father will not spread such slander.”
“You can’t be convinced because you don’t want to know the truth. But in the real world not everything is the way you wish it to be. Other people, the ones who lost loved ones in those bombings, deserve to know the truth. Everything will soon be out in the open. Get used to it. And think about who it is you’re defending. I don’t think you knew about the bombings, or even Golovina.”
“Yes, I knew everything about Golovina.” She hadn’t expected to feel such all-encompassing hatred for Vlad. This impudent boy had spoiled the happiest moment of her life and now threatened all she believed in, defended and loved more than anything on earth.
“I was there. Do you understand? With my own eyes I spotted the American funding report. That’s what it costs to buy people like her. Forty thousand dollars a quarter. And for that kind of money she and others like her invent hundreds of falsehoods like the one you just told me. I held that report in my own hands, and she was jumping about like a chicken at the trough trying to keep us from seeing it. And I knocked over her shelves, and I don’t regret anything. If it were possible I would have burned it all down because it blackens the history of our country. And you… you’re no better.”
She turned on her heel and walked quickly to the escalator casting a final glance at the dark, indifferent contour of the double-headed bird that fell across the window. Surely what Vlad said was untrue.
Chapter 5
The empty square glistened wet from rain, indifferent to the fact that Dzerzhinsky’s enemies no longer filled it. The end of August in Moscow was predictably damp, and already an autumn chill was in the air. Olga stopped on the opposite side of the square in the shadow of the yellow brick façade of Lubyanka.
Thanks to decisions taken behind these forbidding walls she could sleep peacefully at night. That orders to destroy entire buildings, knock them down like so many paper houses originated here was unthinkable.
Her sense of participation in the fate of the country and nearness to power connected her to this building and the people inside, especially Gleb Solntsev. This was the beating heart of the strong and unassailable mechanism that daily protected the future of Russia.
When she spoke with “regular” people, she used simple terms, with no ostentation, but with a special, slightly condescending dignity. She treated people correctly and with respect, almost on their level, but she spoke with authority. Sometimes she permitted herself some sincerity in the knowledge that these people would soak it up like a fur coat in the rain.
The slightest indication of approval from members of the organization, the smallest gesture or nod of the head, confirmed her personal value.
She rushed away from Vlad to find Solntsev to warn him about the filthy slander his enemies planned to publish. She found him surrounded by television cameras in the main hall giving an improvised press conference.
After fifteen minutes, he made his way to the exit with an apology to the press that he had an important meeting with someone from the Ministry.
She rushed after him. “Gleb, we have to talk. It’s urgent.”
“I can’t right now, Olga. I’ll be in the office this evening after seven. Come then.”
Now, on Lubyanka Square, she had second thoughts about going to Solntsev’s office. She was sure he had forgotten already about seeing her.
But this was important. In only a few days terrible and slanderous “revelations” would be made public naming the man she held dearest a murderer and terrorist. She couldn’t live without telling him. It was impossible to explain to people like Vlad how her entire being was defined by the organization. She had no choice but to warn Solntsev.