Tom understood the cosmonaut’s frustration. The Soviets were beating the Americans in every aspect of the space race until Sergei Korolev, their lead rocket scientist, had died in 1966. Who knew what the outcome would have been if he had lived.
Entering the private room, the family was greeted by a joyful Viktor, arms extended. He immediately gave Tom a strong comrade’s hug, patting him on the back. “Velcome, my friend.”
Tom returned the pat then turned to Maria. Tom was happy to see the new mother comfortably propped up by a couple of pillows in the hospital bed. Her baby was swaddled in a cozy blanket, safely in the beaming young woman’s arms. A beautiful glow radiated from Maria as she reached out toward Tom. He quickly crossed to her, taking her hand. Tom noticed tears welling up in the young mother’s eyes, which he was sure were tears of joy. In a frail voice, she said something in Russian.
Walking up from behind, Viktor said sincerely, “Maria give much zanks from heart. Ve lose baby if not for you.”
Maria pulled Tom down and gave him a kiss on both cheeks.
Before pulling back, Tom patted the mother’s hand. “I was happy to help. I’m glad it all worked out.” He moved to the side so Anne could take a peek at the newborn.
Bending down to get a closer look, Anne said, elation in her voice, “What a beautiful baby.”
Viktor stuck out his chest. “Dah! She is girl. Name Anastasia. Ve call Anya.”
Anne touched the baby’s face lightly. “What a pretty name.”
Maria said something as she lifted the baby toward Anne, apparently offering to let her hold the child.
Viktor put his arm around Anne as she tenderly took the child into her arms. “Maria say Anya be daughter to you for vhat you, Tom, do.”
Flashing a smile toward Maria, Anne started to gently rock the baby as she looked down lovingly at the bundle of joy.
Enthusiastically, Viktor pulled out a bottle of vodka from a suitcase and snagged a couple of hospital paper cups. He looked at Tom. “Ve salute. Ve now brothers.” The Russian cosmonaut poured a shot in each cup, then handed one to Tom. They tapped their cups together and downed their drinks in a single gulp.
The men took a seat on the other side of the room while the women took turns holding the baby. Peter and Dmitri sat on the floor in the center of the room playing with a toy rocket set. Laughing and joking, Tom and Viktor continued to drink, picking up right where they had left off in Geneva. Tom found the cosmonaut was a warm and joyful man, different from the other Soviets he had met.
Tom had lost count of the number of shots he’d consumed and started to feel tipsy. He lifted his hand, telling Viktor, “Enough.” The cosmonaut ignored him, poured another round and passed over a cup. Tom relented and grabbed the drink. “Okay, Viktor, but this is the last one.”
“Fine, my friend.”
After downing the final shot, Viktor whispered with a slight slur, “Funny you think me KGB in Geneva?”
Tom looked over to confirm none of their family members could hear, and said softly, “I didn’t know what to think. I was pretty nervous about the whole transaction. I’m an astronaut, not some CIA agent.”
“Dah, and I cosmonaut. Not KGB agent.”
Tom nodded. Since Victor had brought up the subject, Tom wanted to address something bugging him. “So Viktor, why were you wearing glasses during that meeting?”
Viktor looked away. “Umm, more vodka?”
Tom could tell Viktor was avoiding the question. “Viktor, I think it’s pretty obvious you don’t wear glasses, so what was all that about?”
Viktor moved in close and said, in barely an audible voice, “Now you be brother, I open to you. Glasses have micro-camera.”
Surprised, Tom quietly asked, “What!? Why?”
“I take pictures.”
“What for?”
“For Soviet records.”
Tom shifted in his seat, worried the Soviets had pictures of him passing over the stolen material. “Why? What was the purpose of those pictures?”
Viktor, foot bouncing nervously, answered, “Nyet! No can say. But file buried and Saturn boosters buried in ocean. All fine.”
“Saturn boosters? So you know about the cryptic marks on those engines?”
With an intense look, Viktor placed a finger to his mouth. “Ve not discuss zis. Too sensitive. Trust me. I promise on Anya, I protect you. Nothing happen.”
Tom saw the boys get up. He held off saying anything further as they approached.
Peter stepped in front of his dad, crossed his arms, and said with a pout, “Dad, can we go back to Disneyland now?”
Tom had promised Peter in the waiting room that they would return to the park as soon as they could. Tom looked to Viktor. “Can Dmitri go back with us to Disneyland?”
The cosmonaut shook his head. He bent down so he was eye level with the boys. “Peter, Dmitri not go tonight. But ve stay more days for Dmitri mom get better. Tomorrow ve all go?”
Peter looked up. “Dad, can we go tonight and tomorrow?”
Considering how disappointing the Disneyland trip had been so far for Peter, Tom was happy to reschedule their return flight. “Sure, Son.”
Once Viktor explained the plan to Dmitri, the boys jumped up and down excitedly together. Peter then tugged on Tom’s shirt. “Come on, Dad, it’s getting dark. Let’s get going.” The boy ran over to the ladies, pulling at his mom’s dress.
Cradling Anya, Anne looked toward Tom, wondering what the commotion was all about. Once he explained the plan, Anne agreed to go to the park. But she insisted the next day she stay with Maria while the men and boys explored the playground. All agreed.
Full of energy and ready to go, Peter started anxiously pulling again on his mother’s dress.
Before Anne could pass the baby back, Maria said something, which Viktor translated. “Maria ask Peter vant hold baby.”
From Peter’s reaction it was obvious the boy would rather get back to the park. But the offer seemed important to Maria. Tom felt his son needed to be respectful. “That’s a great idea. How about it, Son?”
Peter responded, “Do I have to?”
Tom gave his son a stern look. “Yes, just for a moment.” Tom pulled a chair over, patting it for Peter to sit. The boy reluctantly walked over and sat.
Anne carefully placed the sleeping baby in Peter’s lap, positioning his hands correctly. “Be very gentle, dear.”
Once the boy had a secure grasp, the parents took a step back to admire the two. Peter’s body stayed uncomfortably stiff as he stared at the group impatiently.
Viktor put his arm around Tom. “Comrade, zey make a cute couple, no?”
Tom grinned at the cosmonaut. “You never know, my friend. You never know.”
32
LET SECRETS DIE
FORTY YEARS LATER
Anya slowly lifted her head, her eyes filled with shock. “Oh my God!”
Peter looked back down at his phone again, hoping to get a clue on what had just alarmed his wife, but was unable to come up with anything. Anya had obviously deciphered the mysterious Russian writing from the picture he took inside the F-1 engine. He did a quick scan of the Seven Seas deck to ensure no one had noticed his wife’s stunned reaction, then he leaned in and asked, “What does it say?”
Anya stood rooted to the deck. She started moving her mouth but nothing came out.
Peter nudged his wife lightly, curious what the fluorescent lettering said. “Come on, what is it?”
Finally, in a faint voice, Anya answered, “It says ‘Approved by V. Alexandrov.’”
Floored, Peter took a step back. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. He looked intently into Anya’s eyes. “What?