“Give me a pen and paper, please,” I said.
“Yes, Galinka, what choice did I have? How could I risk blackening Natalya’s name forever? How could I risk losing her?
“They didn’t make me the offer out of kindness. They wanted me to remain under their watchful eyes. That’s why I wasn’t expelled immediately from the organization. They wanted me to remain completely under their control. Oh, my, what a boring job they gave me! The days dragged on endlessly. Day after day after day. Such tedious work. And my longing for Igor. So heart-wrenching to begin with. But the feeling slowly dulled. My emotions became buried under the mountains of paperwork I handled every day and my feelings of guilt. I said to myself: That’s it, Katrina, keep your head down, shut off your heart, and take care of what you have, your daughter, your mother, your small apartment—it’s more than enough.
“My mother died a few years later, and Natalya left home to go study at the Academy of Sciences. I was then informed by the manpower department that I was being transferred to district headquarters in Dimitrovgrad. I went. What else could I have done? And two years ago, I took early retirement. I decided to remain here. Perhaps out of habit. Natalya had started a family and had built a life for herself far from here. I didn’t want my bitterness to have any influence on her and her sweet daughters, my granddaughters. I see them once a year, I spent some time with them just a few weeks ago, over New Year’s and Novy God, our festive season. And I live my life here, peacefully, without bothering anyone.”
“You said earlier that Cobra’s handler looked and sounded like an American in every way—except for once. What did you mean by that?” Ya’ara asked.
“Well, okay. I told you already that I have a talent for languages. And I have a particularly sensitive ear when it comes to accents. On one of the occasions when I met up with Brian, ahead of a series of meetings with Cobra, we were held up for a while. Cobra failed to arrive on the scheduled day, and in keeping with procedures we were supposed to wait twenty-four hours to give him a chance to show up. Agents aren’t always able to report in on the precise date scheduled for them in advance. Last-minute disruptions can always come into play. In any event, we had to wait. We were in Munich, I think. Yes, without a doubt. I remember the spectacular stained-glass ceiling of the Vier Jahreszeiten, the Four Seasons Hotel. We had to pass the time. It was wintry and horrible outside, so we drank at the bar. Quite a lot. Brian and I always spoke English in public. We lived our covers. We only spoke Russian behind closed doors. And even then, never anywhere where someone might be listening in. Anyway, we drank quite a lot and chatted. We spoke English to the barman, too. And suddenly my ear caught the sound of another accent under Brian’s perfect American one. A hint of another accent. I told you I’m sensitive to such things.”
“What accent?”
“It was just a hint, like a current of warm water that flows through a cold river all of sudden. It sounded like an Australian accent, possibly South African. I didn’t catch it again, and didn’t give much thought to it anyway. But it was there. I’m sure of it.”
Ya’ara remained silent for a short while. And then, with a warm look squarely in Katrina’s eyes, she quietly asked, “If you ran away from it all, if you remained silent for all these years, how come you were willing to meet with me? What made you tell me all that you have?”
“I can’t really say, Galinka. Maybe to prove to myself that there’s still a little life left in me. That I’m not completely dried out just yet. Perhaps to rebel, maybe for the last time. To tell someone finally about those awful officials. Thank you for Igor’s letter, and for the sketch. And his tie pin. It was nice of you all to think of me. And anyone who is wise enough to select a woman as attentive and pleasant and lovely as you deserves to be told the things he wanted to know.”
Both women went silent and Ya’ara waited, because Katrina appeared to have something more to say.
“Nevertheless, perhaps you shouldn’t have underestimated the strength of an old woman’s memory. After all, Galina’s eyes were green and yours are blue, almost gray. Rarely seen eyes. You probably assumed I’d simply think I was mistaken. That I’d blame myself for not remembering very well. But as you’ve seen, my memory hasn’t faded over the years, certainly not when it comes to matters of significance. Galina had the exact same eyes as Igor. What can I say? You really are very sweet and attentive. And what do I know? Maybe your name really is Galina. Or Natasha perhaps, or Anna? And now, I need to rest a little and you need to leave.”
Ya’ara rose from her chair, a sudden dull pain in her stomach. She walked into the adjacent room, and Katrina made her way toward the front door, looking at her in silence. Ya’ara put on her fur coat and tightened the scarf around her neck. Laying her bag on the floor, she walked over to Katrina and embraced her, holding her close for quite some time. Katrina kissed her cheeks, and Ya’ara could feel the moistness of her tears. Their saltiness. Ya’ara then opened her bag, rummaged through it, and retrieved a bottle of her perfume. “It’s almost full,” she said. “Take it. Something for you to remember me by,” and she closed Katrina’s hand around the bottle. She stepped out into the icy darkness, and Katrina gently closed the door behind her. The headlights of the taxi Katrina had ordered for her glimmered in the blackness and it chugged toward her. Aslan, still in hiding on the other side of the street, watched Ya’ara get into the taxi and head off toward the city. Minutes later, he saw a large black car approaching, its headlights going black as it drove on in total darkness for a few dozen meters more, before taking up a lookout position nearby the house. Two large and cumbersome figures remained seated in the front of the car, their eyes on Katrina’s residence. Aslan watched them for a full hour. When the lights in Katrina’s house went out, he began making his way through the thick vegetation and away from the road, reaching the bank of the river a few minutes later. An icy mist hovered over the water, and the current hissed like a giant snake. Aslan picked up his pace and began making his own way toward the city.
35
TEL AVIV, FEBRUARY 2013
“Drama, such drama,” Aharon declared to the team members sitting around him. “Ya’ara and Aslan’s trip has yielded outstanding progress! Hagar Beit-Hallahmi’s gut feeling has been confirmed. Her suspicions concerning a link between the mysterious woman, Katrina Geifman, and the Cobra affair have been verified!”