“Thank you.” Hollis moved past her.
She said to him or to herself, “But you never know. Even the dead disappear here.”
Hollis kept on walking. A week ago, he thought, he’d have stopped and spoken to the woman. But his quota for Russian adventures was filling up fast, and he hadn’t even spoken to Surikov yet.
Hollis saw him standing on the path under the spreading boughs of a tall pine tree, smoking a cigarette, contemplating a decaying slab of lichen-covered limestone. Hollis stood beside him and looked at the tall stone.
Surikov said, “Do they read this fellow in the West?”
“Not so much. Colleges, I guess.”
“Can I get things to read in Russian there?”
“Yes.”
“Dead souls,” Surikov said. “Dead souls.” He stared at the grave a while longer, then looked Hollis up and down through his cloud of cigarette smoke, and a thin smile came to his lips. “Do we dress so badly as that?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“It looks worse on you.”
“Thank you.” Hollis added, “Why are you dressed badly today?”
Surikov ran his hand over his stubble. “It’s Sunday.” He turned and walked away. Hollis waited a full minute, then followed.
Surikov stood near the base of the corner battletower where it joined the brick wall of the cemetery. There were ancient tombstones along the wall with old Cyrillic that Hollis couldn’t read.
Surikov pulled a Pravda-wrapped parcel from the pocket of his baggy coat and said, “Do you want to buy fresh carp?”
Hollis could actually smell the fish. “Perhaps.”
Surikov tapped the package as if extolling the virtues of the fish. He said, “So, my friend, Pravda tells me you are leaving Russia. I was quite shocked to hear that. I didn’t know if you would come today. I was worried.”
Hollis could well imagine what was worrying Surikov. Hollis replied, “My diplomatic immunity is in some doubt right now. So you don’t have to ask me if I’m sure I wasn’t followed, because today I’m as worried as you are.”
“Yes? I could lose my life. You would only go to prison.”
“I would envy you a bullet in the head if I was sent east for five or ten years.”
Surikov shrugged. “So, how will this affect our deal?”
“We have no deal.”
“We will. When are you leaving?”
Hollis replied in a sarcastic tone, “It was in your Pravda, wasn’t it?”
“They didn’t say when you were leaving.”
“Really? Well, I’m leaving Wednesday.”
Surikov’s face seemed to show some surprise. He asked, “Who will replace you as air attaché?”
“I’m not certain.”
“Will I deal with the new air attaché or someone else?”
“We’ll discuss that before we part.”
A young couple appeared on the path and moved over to the worn tombstones. At the base of the wall the man knelt and traced his fingers over the lettering. The woman held a notebook. The man said, “This was a nun. Gulia. I don’t hear that name much anymore.” The woman made some notes in her book.
Surikov waved the carp under Hollis’ nose. “I caught them this morning in the Setun. My wife cleaned them so a lazy bachelor would pay good money for them.”
The young couple moved down the row of stones.
Surikov said, “I think you’re telling me little lies. I know you are leaving tomorrow, and I know the name of your replacement is Colonel Fields.”
Hollis nodded. It may have been the embassy listeners, who heard him telling the Kellums, or it may have been the Kellums, who told the KGB directly. Whatever the route, it was a little scary to hear that from General Surikov. Hollis said, “The KGB told you that.”
“Yes. They told me the name of the new air attaché. They told me you were leaving Monday, not Wednesday.”
“Why did they tell you any of that?”
“They like to impress people with their knowledge. I’m not a military intelligence officer, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Hollis never thought Surikov was. He didn’t have the moves or the jargon of a GRU man.
Surikov added, “Actually, the KGB wanted to know if I or my staff or any of our overseas air attachés knew a Colonel Fields. The KGB is apparently having trouble building a dossier on him, so they came to me.” Surikov smiled. “Perhaps you can help me impress them.”
“What exactly is your position with the Red Air Force, General?”
“I am what you would call a G-I. Chief of Air Force personnel.”
“For what command?”
“The whole Red Air Force, Colonel. I keep the files and paperwork of a half million men. Not so glamorous a job, but interesting things come across my desk. Don’t you agree?”
“How did the KGB know the name of Colonel Fields?”
Surikov looked Hollis in the eye and replied, “I think they’ve penetrated your embassy.” He studied Hollis’ face for a reaction.
Hollis asked, “How was this KGB inquiry directed to you? Memo? Phone call?”
“In person. I was summoned to Lefortovo. The KGB can even summon generals. They take delight in asking us to stop in to see them at Lubyanka or Lefortovo. One never knows if one will leave there alive. This happened a few days ago.”
“Were you frightened, General?”
“Very much.”
“To whom did you speak at Lefortovo?”
“A colonel named Pavlichenko.”
“Tall, blond, pouty lips, blue eyes?”
Surikov’s eyebrows rose. “Yes. You know the man?”
“By a different name.” Hollis realized that Surikov was in an answering mood for a change. It was often so when the final deal was at hand. Hollis didn’t know if Valentin Surikov, a Christian, was any more trustworthy than General Surikov of the Red Air Force, but he was willing to gamble that he was.
Surikov said, “After Lefortovo, I am more resolved than ever to leave here.”
“I know how you feel.”
“Can you get me out?”
Hollis had no authorization to say yes, but the time had come to bring this whole thing to a head. “I can if you have the fare.”
“Half now, half in the West.”
“I understand.”
“Is it dangerous? The getting out, I mean.”
“Of course.”
“It’s not for me that I’m worried.”
Hollis already knew that. “Is she your granddaughter?”
Surikov’s head snapped around, and he opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Hollis continued matter-of-factly, “It’s dangerous, but it doesn’t require much from you except nerve. Does she have nerve?”
Surikov drew on his cigarette. “She has faith.” He glanced at Hollis but did not hold eye contact. “You saw us?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know why I want to leave.”
“I suppose.”
Surikov stared stupidly at the wrapped carp in his hands and spoke, but not to Hollis. “I curse the day I found God. My life has been a misery ever since.”
Hollis didn’t know quite how to respond to that statement, but he understood it.
Surikov said, “Yes, my granddaughter. Natasha. My only daughter’s only daughter. The light of my life, Hollis.”
“She’s a beautiful girl. Does she speak English?”
“Yes.”
“She’ll do well. She’ll marry a rich American or Englishman and live happily ever after. Do you believe that?”
“I would like to. Unfortunately, she wants to become a nun.”
“Does she? Well, she’ll do what she wants, General. That’s what it’s all about over there.”
“Is it? And me?”
“We’ll find something for you to do.”