“No idea.”
“When do you finish your tour here?”
“Whenever the Pentagon wants. You?”
“Twenty months. Maybe less now. What will we do if one of us leaves before the other?”
Hollis didn’t reply, and she said, “Step at a time.” She motioned to the staircase. “Let’s do those steps first.”
They climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Like the main floor, Hollis noticed, it was Finnish modern, light ashwood, Finlandia crystal, things by Sotka, Furbig, and Aarikka, names that the American community in Moscow had come to appreciate. There was a long-tailed Chinese kite tacked in loops across the ceiling and down the wall over the bed. “Very nice.”
“You’re only the third man who’s been up here.”
“It’s certainly a rare privilege. Look, do you realize I’m nearly twenty years older than you?”
“So were the other two. So what?”
Hollis looked at her. There was something about Lisa Rhodes that appealed to him. She was tomboyish yet feminine, ingenuous but shrewd. And at times she showed great maturity, though there were other times she seemed refreshingly unsophisticated. He said, “I like twenty-nine.”
“I’ve never tried that.”
“Your age.”
“Oh…” She laughed in embarrassment, then kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse. “Stay the night. I want to wake up beside you. Like in Yablonya.”
“That would be nice.”
The alarm rang, and Hollis reached for it, but it wasn’t there.
Lisa turned it off on her side of the bed. “You do have a side.”
“Where am I?”
“Paris. My name is Colette.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The blinds were shut and the heavy drapes pulled tight as was the rule. Hollis turned on the lamp.
Lisa said, “I used to enjoy the sun coming in the window in the morning.”
“Me too,” he said, “but there’s no sun anyway, only microwaves from across the street.”
She cuddled close to him and ran her hand over his groin as she kissed his cheek.
“You’re very affectionate,” he said.
“You’re not,” she replied.
“Give me time.”
“I understand.” She got out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Hollis heard the faucet running. The telephone on the nightstand rang. He let it ring. It kept ringing. Against his better judgment, he picked it up. “Hello.”
Seth Alevy said, “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“Then call me in my apartment.”
“You’re not there.”
Hollis swung his legs out of bed. “Try again.”
Alevy sounded annoyed. “I’d like a meeting with you for eleven A.M.”
“I have a meeting with two Red Air Force colonels at ten-thirty.”
“That’s been canceled.”
“By whom?”
“Also ask Lisa to be there. Her calendar has been cleared. I’ll see you in the intelligence officer’s safe room.” Alevy hung up.
Lisa called out from the bathroom, “Where are you?”
“I’m on my side now.” Hollis got out of bed. Bastard. He thought that Alevy could well have waited to talk to him when he got to his office. He thought about life inside the red brick walls. Here you could bowl, swim in the indoor pool, play squash, or see the weekly movie in the theater. If none of that appealed to you, you could go crazy, as his wife claimed she had done, or you could indulge yourself in one sort of marginally acceptable behavior or another; extramarital sex, alcohol, and social withdrawal were the most common. More acceptable pursuits included reading long Russian novels, working sixteen-hour days, or trying to learn more about the land and the people, as Lisa had done. This latter hobby, however, often met with disappointments and frustrations, as this host country, in contrast to most, wasn’t flattered and didn’t want you to learn anything. Even a fluency in the language marked you as a potential spy. Xenophobia was as Russian as borscht, Hollis thought.
And if things inside the walls weren’t enough to get you down, outside the walls were the men and women of the KGB’s Seventh Directorate, the “Embassy Watchers,” who had the premises and each individual in it under constant surveillance. Hollis parted the drapes a few inches and looked out into the new morning.
The new embassy had to be built on the only site offered by the Soviet government, and in addition to the unhealthy river vapors, the low ground made it possible for the KGB to bombard the whole compound with listening-device microwaves whose long-range physical effects were unknown, though leukemia was one suspected by-product.
Even intracompound telephone calls such as Alevy’s to Lisa’s apartment were monitored, and the windows were watched, which was why room blinds were almost permanently shut.
Lisa walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel around her neck. “Who was that?”
Hollis regarded her in the dim light. In clothes she looked lithe, almost slight. But naked, she was full-busted, and her hips were well-rounded. Her pubic hair had a nice reddish tint.
“My face is up here.”
“Oh…” Hollis said, “That was Seth.”
“Oh…”
“He wants to see both of us at eleven A.M. Your calendar has been cleared.”
“What do you suppose they want now?”
“Who knows?”
She asked, “Are we in trouble because of… this?”
He replied, “Me, maybe. I’m married. You single people get away with everything.”
She thought a moment, then offered, “This wasn’t a good idea. I was being selfish. You have more to lose than I do.”
“Mandatory postcoital speech noted.”
They stood a few feet from each other, both naked. Lisa looked him up and down. “That’s some throttle you’ve got there, fly boy.”
Hollis smiled despite his annoyance at the phone call.
She said, “Let’s impress the KGB listener with our sexual appetites.” She took his hand and led him into the bathroom. They made love in the shower, and over his objection, she shaved him with her pink plastic razor. She gave him a toothbrush, then went downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee.
As Hollis dried himself, he surveyed the array of feminine products on the countertop. He supposed that Katherine had the same sort of things, but he’d never noticed them. This all seemed very new to him. Unconsciously he picked up a jar of cleansing cream and smelled it.
19
It was the intelligence officer’s safe room this time, Hollis noted, because the ambassador was using his own safe room, meeting with four people from Washington who had just flown in. Clearly, things were coming to a boil. The people in the embassy, even the nondiplomatic and nonintelligence staff, knew something was up because of all the activity: Brennan being flown to London in bandages; Volgas, Fords, and Chaikas tearing off in the night.
After leaving Lisa, Hollis had gone into the snack bar as usual and discovered he had six breakfast companions at a table for four. They had tried out several rumors on him, and Hollis found himself saying things such as, “I’m just an Air Force guy. I don’t know any more than you do.”
Charles Banks cleared his throat, made eye contact with Hollis, then with Lisa, and began. “Colonel Hollis, Ms. Rhodes, it is my unpleasant duty to inform you that the Soviet government has filed a formal complaint against both of you. The details are unimportant. You have each been declared persona non grata.” He looked at Hollis, then at Lisa. “You have five days in which to get your affairs in order and leave the country. You will depart Monday A.M.”