Выбрать главу

“I concede the point, Anna. Perhaps, at this time, there is not much I can talk to you about. But I am very glad that you are all right.”

“I worry about you, Father.”

“You need not do that. I am invincible.”

He said that like one of the Russian characters in the Pierce Brosnan James Bond film, Goldeneye.

“I still worry.”

Some of his levity left him. “Have you seen anything more of the man who pursued you?”

“No.”

“That is good. Perhaps it was only your imagination.”

“Or he’s out killing someone else.”

Her father growled again.

“I know you have been busy, but did you have a chance to look for the man whose picture I sent?”

“I did. I did not find him.”

“That is a surprise, because I felt certain he was Russian and military.”

“Can you tell me anything further of your adventures with Professor Lourds? The only things I have seen in The Moscow Times written by you have been articles bashing that president of Russia fellow.”

Anna thought about that. “Can I swear you to secrecy?”

“Of course. I am your father. And I have the most top secret clearance a man in our country can get.”

“Before Boris Glukov was murdered by this mysterious man, he found some scrolls in the tomb of a former Greek scribe named Callisthenes.” Anna was happy to find something she could talk about with her father. She was hungry for conversation with him. Especially if it wasn’t loaded with mutual castigation. And she knew telling him the story was harmless. He had no one to tell who would even care about the tomb of Alexander the Great.

She told her father much of the story as Lourds had revealed it, telling him, too, that even if the tomb were not found, the scrolls alone were an impressive find.

Finally, though, she heard her father growing more tired. She realized then that he had needed someone to talk to who wasn’t overly invested in what he was doing. He wasn’t able to talk to her mother that way because her mother would worry about her father. Katrina Cherkshan lived for her family.

“I should let you go. Conquering countries makes you tired. You are obviously not as young as you used to be.”

“And you are not so respectful.”

“You taught me to question and to be independent, Father. What I am is more your fault than anyone else’s.”

“I taught your brother the same things, and he’s turned out fine.”

“I am not my brother.”

“No, you are not. But since your father is also a very important general in the Russian Federation, I am granted special privileges, which I now share with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember Lieutenant Emil Basayev?”

“Of course. He has a very nice smile.” Saying that made her think of the assassin’s smile.

“You should remember that when he comes for you.”

“He is coming for me?”

“Yes. On a Russian military jet. He will also bring you back to Moscow now that you are ready.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course. What fun is it to be the general if you do not sometimes flagrantly flaunt your authority?”

Anna laughed at him, and he was once more the father she adored, the one who read to her from fairy tales and made her believe in princes. “I look forward to seeing him, then.”

“Let me know where you are staying.”

For just a moment, Anna hesitated. When she realized what she had done, she hated herself for it. He was her father. He was taking care of her. “The Kabul Serena Hotel.” She told him the room. “But I can meet Emil at the airport.”

“No. He has instructions to pick you up in a car. And to take you out someplace nice to eat if you would like.”

“A date?” She couldn’t resist teasing him.

“No. It is not a date. If it had been a date, I would have threatened him.”

She laughed at that and felt some of the tension melt away. But she only had to glance at the muted television to realize that once she was back in Moscow, it would all come rushing back.

36

Safe House
Kandahar
Kandahar Province
Afghanistan
February 19, 2013

“Good morning, Professor Lourds.” Just like yesterday, Captain Fitrat brought in a tray containing breakfast for Lourds and him. “Have you been up all night, or have you been to bed? I can never tell with you.”

Lourds leaned back from the desk, his shoulders slumping against the chair. He felt tired and drained, and his body ached from sitting for hours on end. Being still for long stretches while his body craved movement was the hardest part of being consumed by work. But when he got on a roll like this, when the ideas were flowing and some of the language he was working on was starting to unravel itself and reveal its mysteries, he couldn’t stop.

“You know, I could fix my own breakfast, Captain.”

Fitrat shrugged and set the tray on a corner of the desk that Lourds raked free of papers. “Your time is better spent working on this translation.”

“And your time would be better spent watching over Layla.”

“Yes, it would be. However, she gave me strict orders to watch over you, so I am.” Fitrat pulled over the same chair he had brought up yesterday. “I trust I am not intruding if I eat with you.”

“Not at all. I’m happy to have someone to talk to.” Lourds went to the bathroom, washed up, and returned.

In that time, Fitrat had spread out the morning’s feast. There were boiled eggs, sweet cakes, rice with meat, and fresh melon and a selection of berries. There was also a pitcher of strong qaimaaq chai, green tea seasoned with cardamom seeds.

“Everything is good?” Fitrat looked at Lourds.

“Everything is fantastic. Does your wife cook?”

Fitrat looked embarrassed and shrugged. “When I am not home, of course.”

Lourds took a boiled egg and salted it. “What about when you are at home?”

“Sometimes. If she wants to make something special. I prefer to cook. It gives me time to spend with the children, and I have time to teach them something important.”

“Something important?”

Fitrat poured tea. “A man should teach his children things, yes?”

Lourds nodded, bit into his boiled egg, and started chewing.

“Normally, a man teaches his son, and maybe his daughter, about the job that he does.” Fitrat gave a small smile devoid of humor. “My job is killing people, and to keep other people from killing people. A necessary thing, but not one I would want to teach my children.”

“Yes, but I thought you enjoyed your job.”

Fitrat paused to sip his tea and think. “I see the need for my job. I have an aptitude for this kind of work. So I learned to be very good at it.”

“But you don’t enjoy it?”

“I save lives. I like saving lives. That part I enjoy very much.”

“From what Layla told me, your parents wanted you to be a doctor. You could have saved lives doing that.”

“Perhaps. But I have discovered I have another side. One that enjoys chasing bad people.” Fitrat grimaced. “Sometimes, when I was younger and thought more about such things, I wondered if perhaps something was wrong with me. That in some ways I was a bad person.”

“I don’t see that.” Lourds spooned up the rice and spicy meat, which was delicious. “I think what you’re experiencing is a sense of competition. Man against man.”

“I have come to this conclusion as well. It is this competition that draws me so fiercely. I enjoy winning.”