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Also by Robert Littell

FICTION

THE COMPANY

WALKING BACK THE CAT

THE VISITING PROFESSOR

AN AGENT IN PLACE

THE ONCE AND FUTURE SPY

THE REVOLUTIONIST

THE SISTERS

THE AMATEUR

THE DEBRIEFING

MOTHER RUSSIA

THE OCTOBER CIRCLE

SWEET REASON

THE DEFECTION OF A.J. LEWINTER

NON-FICTION

FOR THE FUTURE OF ISRAEL

(with Shimon Peres)

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental … the same is true for events.

First published in the United States in 2005 by

The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.

Woodstock & New York

WOODSTOCK:

One Overlook Drive

Woodstock, NY 12498

www.overlookpress.com

[for individual orders, bulk and special sales, contact our Woodstock office]

NEW YORK:

141 Wooster Street

New York, NY 10012

Copyright © 2005 by Robert Littell

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

ISBN 978-1-59020-832-8

For my muses:

Marie-Dominique and Victoria

“All names are pseudonyms.”

—ROMAIN GARY (writing under the pen name Emile Ajar)

“….one of those individuals with multiple faces—like so many of the great spies of Cold War mythology—who invariably turn out to be different from who they seem and, when we think we have located them at the center of a great riddle, show up as part of another, even greater riddle …”

—BERNARD-HENRI LÉVY, Who Killed Daniel Pearl?

Contents

Also by Robert Littell

Copyright

1993: THE CONDEMNED MAN CATCHES A GLIMPSE OF THE ELEPHANT

1997: MARTIN ODUM HAS A CHANGE OF HEART

1994: MARTIN ODUM GETS ON WITH HIS LIVES

1997: MARTIN ODUM DISCOVERS THAT NOT MUCH IS SACRED

1997: MINH SLEEPWALKS THROUGH ONE-NIGHT STANDS

1997: OSKAR ALEXANDROVICH KASTNER DISCOVERS THE WEIGHT OF A CIGARETTE

1987: DANTE PIPPEN BECOMES AN IRA BOMBER

1989: DANTE PIPPEN SEES THE MILKY WAY IN A NEW LIGHT

1997: MARTIN ODUM DISCOVERS THAT SHAMUS IS A YIDDISH WORD

1997: MARTIN ODUM MEETS A BORN-AGAIN OPPORTUNIST

1997: MARTIN ODUM PLAYS INNOCENT

1994: THE ONLY FODDER WAS CANNON FODDER

1990: LINCOLN DITTMANN TAKES ON A LIFE OF HIS OWN

1991: LINCOLN DITTMANN WORKS THE ANGLES OF THE TRIANGLE

1997: MARTIN ODUM IS MESMERIZED TO TEARS

1997: MARTIN ODUM IS ACCUSED OF HIGH AND LOW TREASON

1997: MARTIN ODUM REACHES NO-WOMAN’S LAND

1994: LINCOLN DITTMANN SETS THE RECORD STRAIGHT

1994: BERNICE TREFFLER LOSES A PATIENT

1997: MARTIN ODUM DISCOVERS THE KATOVSKY GAMBIT

1992: HOW LINCOLN DITTMANN CAME TO GO TO LANGUAGE SCHOOL

1997: MARTIN ODUM GETS TO INSPECT THE SIBERIAN NIGHT MOTH

1997: MARTIN ODUM GETS THE GET

1997: LINCOLN DITTMANN CONNECTS THE DOTS

1997: LINCOLN DITTMANN FEELS THE RECOIL IN HIS SHOULDER BLADES

1997: CRYSTAL QUEST COMES TO BELIEVE IN DANTE’S TRINITY

1993: THE CONDEMNED MAN CATCHES A GLIMPSE OF THE ELEPHANT

THEY HAD FINALLY GOTTEN AROUND TO PAVING THE SEVEN kilometers of dirt spur connecting the village of Prigorodnaia to the four-lane Moscow-Petersburg highway. The local priest, surfacing from a week-long binge, lit beeswax tapers to Innocent of Irkutsk, the saint who in the 1720s had repaired the road to China and was now about to bring civilization to Prigorodnaia in the form of a ribbon of macadam with a freshly painted white stripe down the middle. The peasants, who had a shrewder idea of how Mother Russia functioned, thought it more likely that this evidence of progress, if that was the correct name for it, was somehow related to the purchase, several months earlier, of the late and little lamented Lavrenti Pavlovich Beria’s sprawling wooden dacha by a man identified only as the Oligarkh. Next to nothing was known about him. He came and went at odd hours in a glistening black Mercedes S-600 sedan, his shock of silver hair and dark glasses a fleeting apparition behind its tinted windows. A local woman hired to do laundry was said to have seen him angrily flick cigar ashes from the crow’s-nest rising like a turret from the dacha before turning back to issue instructions to someone. The woman, who was terrified of the dacha’s newfangled electric washing machine and scrubbed the laundry in a shallow reach of the river, had been too far away to make out more than a few words—“Buried, that’s what I want, but alive …”—but they and the Oligarkh’s feral tone had dispatched a chill down her spine that made her shudder every time she recounted the story. Two peasants cutting firewood on the other side of the river had caught a glimpse of the Oligarkh from a distance, struggling on aluminum crutches along the path behind his dacha that led to the dilapidated paper factory disgorging dirty white smoke from its giant stacks fourteen hours a day, six days a week, and beyond that to the village cemetery and the small Orthodox church with the faded paint peeling away from its onion domes. A pair of Borzois rollicked in the dirt ahead of the Oligarkh as he thrust one hip forward and dragged the leg after it, then repeated the movement with the other hip. Three men in Ralph Lauren jeans and telnyashki, the distinctive striped shirts that paratroopers often continued to wear after they quit the army, trailed after him, shotguns cradled in the crooks of their arms. The peasants had been sorely tempted to try for a closer look at the stubby, hunch-shouldered newcomer to their village, but abandoned the idea when one of them reminded the other what the Metropolitan come from Moscow to celebrate Orthodox Christmas two Januaries earlier had proclaimed from the ambo:

If you are stupid enough to dine with the devil, for Christ’s sake use a long spoon.

The road crew, along with giant tank-treaded graders and steam-rollers and trucks brimming with asphalt and crushed stone, had turned up during the night while the aurora borealis was still flickering like soundless cannon fire in the north; it didn’t take much imagination to suppose a great war was being fought beyond the horizon. Casting elongated shadows in the ghostly gleam of headlights, the men pulled on tar-stiff overalls and knee-high rubber boots and set to work. By first light, with forty meters of paved road behind them, the aurora and the stars had vanished, but two planets were visible in the moonless sky: one, Mars, directly overhead, the other, Jupiter, still dancing in the west above the low haze saturated with the amber glow of Moscow. When the lead crew reached the circular crater that had been gouged in the dirt spur the day before by a steam shovel, the foreman blew on a whistle. The machines ground to a halt.