notwithstanding-his
grip all-enfolding, his face's sudden color appearing to make him,
almost, warm.
"We're airport-near, then?" I asked, pounding the cases shut.
"Airstrip," he corrected. "Is on my dacha. Twenty minutes from
here normal speed. We should make in ten." Holding the cassette
box underarm, onehanding his Shrogin, he glanced the room over
to see if anything missed firsttime showed at second look.
"Your estate's airstripped?"
"Convenient small one for vertical-ascent craft."
"Plane's readied?"
"Destination programmed as desired."
"Pilot's secure?" asked Jake.
"Pilot you see before you." His question hung, unanswered.
Oktobriana gave sudden word, as if waking from coma.
"Where are we going?" she asked, staring up at Jake with eyes
great with fear, eyes alit by oncoming headlight's glare.
"On lovely vacation," said Skuratov.
"To America," said Jake. "New world life awaits."
"Jake," said Skuratov, not looking at him direct, "put suitcases in
trunk. We shall follow."
Jake's paranoia ran deeper than mine but usually for greater
reason; he trusted its touch, like a caress from a perfect lover.
Unnoticed by the others I vizzed his eyes tighten. If Jake readied, I
knew I should as well; in such event, I followed his lead as I
followed any commander.
"Porter's life isn't mine," he replied.
"Forgive sharp method of asking, Jake. The language is full of
pitfalls. "
"Key me," said Jake, retaining grip on Oktobriana.
"Trunk is unlocked. Is simple to open."
"Why don't you lend hand?"
"Purpose of my delay is quite reasonable," he said, turning
towards the bath. "Before leaving I must walk hand in hand with
Stalin. Luther, keep strong hold on small friend in Jake's absence."
Jake, winking my way, passed Oktobriana to me, hoisted the
cases and slipped through the front door as Skuratov opened the
bath's, pulling it shut after. Holding her I felt no struggle, which
worried. In times past, during prisoner retrieval, there always came
a moment early on when one or two would, without warning,
tumble earthward, pulses stilled, dropping down dead as if their
unwillingness to be held so strengthened that they drove away their
souls, dying by will, sans symptom, sans blow, sans threat. That
often occurred on Long Island, during those long campaigns.
Oktobriana's seeming peace, so expected and so unnatural, wondered me if, consciously or not, she prepped to do just that.
"Mal," I shouted, growing anxious; Jake's odd behavior hadn't
helped. "Hurry and exit soon-"
In the outer world something blew; someone with it, undoubted,
at first listen. My stomach felt as if it were trying to claw free of my
flesh. I rounded for the front door; Skuratov stepped into view
again, his Shrogin leveled. As I fingered the doorknob, he spoke.
"Such a rush," he said; my spine went rigid. "Concern is hereafter unwarranted. Our flight will be smooth and uninterrupted."
"Slavic humor, Mal?" I asked, straight-faced. Drawing my hand
from the doorknob I pocketed it, involuntarily reaching for the gun
that we both knew wasn't there. "There was a noise outside. "
"Is on occasion necessary to be more Russian than Russian to
enjoy things Western," he said. "Mercedes, for example. Exceptional automobile. German executives are so often lost that
bombproof trunk on finest models is standard accessory. Bomb
explodes, leaving irreplaceable corporate valuables unharmed so
long as they are in trunk. Conversely, small bomb may explode
within trunk, leaving excellent machine unharmed. Harm results
only to hooligan opening trunk."
Jake would have known, I knew; had seen, did know
"Dream Team employs no wasteful folk. We prefer contacts
warm and breathing without question. Rare people such as Jake are
so adept and so unpredictable, however, that only one option is
available when longterm schedule is considered. Your people's loss
is so great in this circumstance that I should later submit to
Krasnaya letter
grip all-enfolding, his face's sudden color appearing to make him,
almost, warm.
"We're airport-near, then?" I asked, pounding the cases shut.
"Airstrip," he corrected. "Is on my dacha. Twenty minutes from
here normal speed. We should make in ten." Holding the cassette
box underarm, onehanding his Shrogin, he glanced the room over
to see if anything missed firsttime showed at second look.
"Your estate's airstripped?"
"Convenient small one for vertical-ascent craft."
"Plane's readied?"
"Destination programmed as desired."
"Pilot's secure?" asked Jake.
"Pilot you see before you." His question hung, unanswered.
Oktobriana gave sudden word, as if waking from coma.
"Where are we going?" she asked, staring up at Jake with eyes
great with fear, eyes alit by oncoming headlight's glare.
"On lovely vacation," said Skuratov.
"To America," said Jake. "New world life awaits."
"Jake," said Skuratov, not looking at him direct, "put suitcases in
trunk. We shall follow."
Jake's paranoia ran deeper than mine but usually for greater
reason; he trusted its touch, like a caress from a perfect lover.
Unnoticed by the others I vizzed his eyes tighten. If Jake readied, I
knew I should as well; in such event, I followed his lead as I
followed any commander.
"Porter's life isn't mine," he replied.
"Forgive sharp method of asking, Jake. The language is full of
pitfalls. "
"Key me," said Jake, retaining grip on Oktobriana.
"Trunk is unlocked. Is simple to open."
"Why don't you lend hand?"
"Purpose of my delay is quite reasonable," he said, turning
towards the bath. "Before leaving I must walk hand in hand with
Stalin. Luther, keep strong hold on small friend in Jake's absence."
Jake, winking my way, passed Oktobriana to me, hoisted the
cases and slipped through the front door as Skuratov opened the
bath's, pulling it shut after. Holding her I felt no struggle, which
worried. In times past, during prisoner retrieval, there always came
a moment early on when one or two would, without warning,
tumble earthward, pulses stilled, dropping down dead as if their
unwillingness to be held so strengthened that they drove away their
souls, dying by will, sans symptom, sans blow, sans threat. That
often occurred on Long Island, during those long campaigns.
Oktobriana's seeming peace, so expected and so unnatural, wondered me if, consciously or not, she prepped to do just that.
"Mal," I shouted, growing anxious; Jake's odd behavior hadn't
helped. "Hurry and exit soon-"
In the outer world something blew; someone with it, undoubted,
at first listen. My stomach felt as if it were trying to claw free of my
flesh. I rounded for the front door; Skuratov stepped into view
again, his Shrogin leveled. As I fingered the doorknob, he spoke.
"Such a rush," he said; my spine went rigid. "Concern is hereafter unwarranted. Our flight will be smooth and uninterrupted."
"Slavic humor, Mal?" I asked, straight-faced. Drawing my hand
from the doorknob I pocketed it, involuntarily reaching for the gun
that we both knew wasn't there. "There was a noise outside. "
"Is on occasion necessary to be more Russian than Russian to
enjoy things Western," he said. "Mercedes, for example. Exceptional automobile. German executives are so often lost that
bombproof trunk on finest models is standard accessory. Bomb
explodes, leaving irreplaceable corporate valuables unharmed so
long as they are in trunk. Conversely, small bomb may explode
within trunk, leaving excellent machine unharmed. Harm results
only to hooligan opening trunk."
Jake would have known, I knew; had seen, did know
"Dream Team employs no wasteful folk. We prefer contacts
warm and breathing without question. Rare people such as Jake are
so adept and so unpredictable, however, that only one option is
available when longterm schedule is considered. Your people's loss
is so great in this circumstance that I should later submit to
Krasnaya letter
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