Angel Eyes (72 page)

Nikolev licked his lips again. "Yes. It could be either way."

"But now, one way or another, the die is cast. We must see whether the trust on both sides is justified."

Nikolev's gaze faltered. He stared for a time into his glass. "I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him."

Russell said, "What?"

Nikolev looked at them. "I feel a bit like Brutus, Mr. Slade, so forgive me if I take my time about this.''

Tori, so close to him, could feel the constriction in his chest, the conflict of emotions battering him. If he was being duplicitous, he was a master.

Nikolev could bear standing still no longer. He walked to the windows that looked out on a balcony and a steep drop as the Lenin Hills fell away into brush beneath slender pines and larch. Tori could see his shoulders hunch involuntarily as if he were expecting a blow.

He said at length, "There is a plan-hatched within the KGB, but fully agreed to by the military-to march into Lithuania and Latvia. We are now on the cusp of this mad campaign to return the Baltic states, which the president, in the euphoria of perestroika, allowed to slip away from the Soviet Union."

Russell rocked back and forth on his heels, whistling softly. Tori said nothing.

Nikolev turned to face them. He was haloed by the pristine light that fills the sky after a violent storm, and his face seemed so young that one could almost imagine peach fuzz on his cheeks instead of whiskers. "This is, of course, treason," Nikolev went on. "No matter. The campaign will begin in thirteen hours. Dawn tomorrow. There will be wholesale slaughter. The official story is that the new and as yet unstable Baltic governments have been infiltrated by dangerous Western elements that threatened the national security of the Soviet Union."

In the charged silence that ensued, Tori said, "What about the president?"

"The president, it is felt by these factions within the KGB and the military, has become obsessed by the same cult of personality that enveloped Yuri Andropov. At precisely the same moment that the order will be given to invade the Baltic states, the president of the USSR will be assassinated by his own guards. It is the Rome of Claudius all over again.''

"This is madness," Russell said. "Do you expect us to believe some cock-and-bull-"

He stopped as Tori clutched his arm. "What has all this to do with us, Captain? Surely we are even more powerless than you are at this moment."

"But you're not," Nikolev said with some urgency. "Not if I can believe you. Not if there is trust between us. You see, for a while we've known that White Star has been receiving aid in the form of materiel from the West. If you're here on behalf of White Star, then you are a godsend. Mars Volkov has forced Valeri Bondasenko, White Star's leader, into hiding. We cannot find him, but as representatives of White Star's Western support, I have no doubt that you have the means to get a message to Bondasenko.

"If you can do this, tell him what is happening, then we have a chance. White Star is the wild card in this whole equation. That's why Mars Volkov has been given carte blanche to find White Star and eradicate it.

"Only White Star has the power to stop this madness. It has the popular support throughout the Soviet Union, it has the people. All it has been lacking is the proper armaments. But now we believe that..."

"What were you going to say, Captain?" Tori said. "That it now has the weapons?"

"Yes," Nikolev said. "We have no idea what they are, but we suspect that they have been amassing some kind of arsenal to use when they felt the time was right." His fist clenched. "But the time is now. You must convince Valeri Bondasenko of the extreme jeopardy the entire country is in. He must use his new weapons to bring White Star's power into the Kremlin."

"And what will you be doing," Russell said, "while we're unearthing White Star's leader for you? "

"Not for me, not for the KGB," Nikolev said, for the first time showing his impatience. "For all of the Soviet Union."

Russell turned to Tori. "Can't you see this guy is trying to use us? Bondasenko's gone so successfully to ground no one can find him. Nikolev will use us as his bloodhounds. As soon as we find Bondasenko for him, he'll come in with his goons and-"

"No, no! That is not my intention! I am telling you the truth!''

''I think he is," Tori said, but Russell waved away her words.

"Prove it," he said to Nikolev.

"But how can I . . . ?" Nikolev thought a moment, then nodded. "I will make a proposal. Mars Volkov has captured Valeri Bondasenko's personal computer. It is believed that White Star's entire infrastructure is contained in the computer's software. Under no circumstances must Volkov be allowed access to that material. With it, he could break White Star inside thirty-six hours.

"I was going to get that computer out of Volkov's hands while you were running down Bondasenko, but now I have a better idea. You'll come with me, you'll see firsthand that I am telling the truth. I will be putting my life-and the lives of my handpicked men-on the line by defying Mars Volkov. As outsiders, you cannot know what an enormous risk that is. If we fail, we will be summarily executed. No trial, no incarceration, no recompense for our families. In the blink of an eye, we simply will cease to exist."

"If we go with you," Tori said, "we'll be wasting valuable time. We've got to get to Bondasenko well before the dawn deadline."

"Yes," Nikolev said. "So we will all be taking enormous risks. There is an increasing chance we will not get to Bondasenko in time. That is why I resist taking you with me; we will be gambling with an entire nation. But I see no other method of fulfilling Mr. Slade's demand."

"Russell?"

''I don't want to back down,'' Russell said.

Nikolev said, "You must help me. You must. If the invasion and the assassination are allowed to take place, I fear there will be no recourse for us. We will return to the repressive government of the nightmare days of Stalin. We will be lost forever."

"We are lost,'' the ???? said the moment before Mars walked into the pool room with Irina.

Tatiana was already out of the pool. She had an oversized towel wrapped around her middle, but her chest above the line of her swimsuit was beaded with saltwater.

"Comrade," she said. "Irina."

''Good afternoon, Tatiana,'' Mars said. ''Look what I have.'' He lifted the Toshiba portable. "Would you help Irina set this up on the table over there? Make sure the power source is secure."

Tatiana did as she was told. She glanced at Irina out of the corner of her eye. Irina was afraid to say or do anything that Mars might misconstrue. There was still a chance, she felt, that he believed she was loyal to him. While that possibility existed, she was determined to make the most of it. She certainly was not going to give him any cause to doubt her allegiance.

Irina unzipped the case, took the Toshiba out, handed the power cord with its adaptor to Tatiana. While she was setting up the computer, Mars walked over to the coping of the pool, peered down into the phosphorescent depths.

"Odysseus," he said, "are you feeling any better?"

"I wasn't aware that I was at all unwell.''

Mars knelt down. "You had a seizure. You don't recall that?''

"No."

"During the seizure you spoke a whole bunch of nonsense."

"The color between the stars," the Hero said. "I remember speaking their language."

Mars swallowed hard. "Whose language?"

"Not yours, comrade.''

Mars stood up as if abruptly repulsed. He turned, went over to where the computer sat. Irina had pulled up a chair.

Lara came up, told Mars he had a call. Out of the corner of her eye Irina watched him as he went to the wall phone, spoke into it briefly. He seemed to listen for a long time and, though Irina could not be certain, she thought his face shut down tight. Mars made one final curt reply, hung up the receiver.

Irina went back to work. Her fingers danced over the keyboard and a string of recipes began scrolling across the screen.

Mars came up behind her. "What is this?" he demanded.

''Pineapple upside-down cake.'' Irina wondered what the call had been about. Whatever it was, it had put him in a sour mood. Good news for her or bad?

"Idiotic," Mars commented. "Where in the world would one get a pineapple?"

"Perhaps Valeri has them flown in from Cuba," Irina said.

Tatiana said, "I don't believe Cuba has pineapple trees."

"Idiotic," Mars repeated. "What else is in the machine?"

"More recipes, it seems."

"Bah. Valeri Denysovich wouldn't use an illegal computer merely to store his recipes." Mars shook his head. "What a woman he is."

"Apparently he is a woman you cannot find."

In the wake of the Hero's words, everyone froze.

Mars stood up, walked on stiff legs back to the pool. He glared down at the ????. "Who told you that?"

The Hero said nothing. He floated placidly in the saltwater.

"I said, who told you that?"

Arbat began to chatter in alarm.

Mars had drawn his pistol and was now aiming it at the Hero's head.

"You'll answer me, Odysseus, or I'll blow your head off."

Irina got up, went across the room. "Mars," she said softly. She put her hand on his arm. "Mars, don't."

"No one told me, comrade," the Hero said. "You've quite effectively cut off my information gathering, remember. Besides, no one had to tell me. I can read your mind.''

"What are you talking about?"

"You've manipulated the final showdown with your archenemy, haven't you, Volkov? No, don't bother denying it. I know. I can see it as clearly as I can see that ugly expression of hatred disfiguring your face. You pushed and pushed, and what do you have to show for it? Bondasenko's beyond even your reach."

"Shut up!" Mars said, and Irina, with a flash of intuition, understood that he was abruptly terrified that Odysseus would blurt out that he was KGB. Mars had no idea that Odysseus had already told her that.

Irina knelt beside the pool, looked into the Hero's eyes. They spoke silently for the instant before she said, "Let it be for now, Odysseus. You've provoked him enough."

The Hero sank beneath the water, and Arbat followed him.

For a long time Mars stared into me pool. "How does he do that?'' he said. ''Stay underwater for so long? "

"Perhaps he's half dolphin," Irina joked, but the stricken look on Mars's face told her that for him on this subject there was no room for humor. She thought that quite interesting, and remembering the Hero's last conversation with Mars, she began to see the strategy Odysseus had formulated for combating Mars.

"Come away now," she said gently. Her fingers closed over his where he still gripped the pistol with white knuckles. "There's no need format. Come, Mars. Come."

And Irina led him back to the computer where every secret Mars lusted after lay hidden, waiting to be unlocked.

"It's the waiting," Russell said, "that I hate the most."

"You're thinking of Nikolev, aren't you?" Tori said. "You still think he's using us as bloodhounds."

"I only wish I was as sure of him as you are."

"Yeah, well, I thought I was sure of Estilo and Hitasura."

They stared out at the glorious view of the Kremlin and the golden domes of St. Basil's. They were sitting at a window table at the twenty-first-floor restaurant of the Rossiya Hotel. They had been there for forty-five minutes and had still to receive their drinks. That was all right; they were in no hurry.

Tori had left a handwritten message, sealed in an envelope, and as Hitasura had told her was to be done, had addressed it to a Mrs. Kubysheva, handed it in at the front desk. The young man who had taken it from her had looked at the name she had printed on the envelope, said carefully in English, "Perhaps you'd care to have dinner at the restaurant upstairs, miss. The twenty-first floor offers unparalleled views of the city."

Tori and Russell did as he suggested. Upstairs, Tori went to the ladies' room while Russell went to get them seated. How he had procured this choice table at the crowded restaurant she could not guess, but as she was learning, Russell was adept at such things.

"Hitasura outfoxed everyone," Russell said, still staring out the window. "And, as for Estilo, perhaps you weren't so wrong about him. After all, without his help we might never have come this far."

"But, oh, poor Ariel."

"Yes." Russell nodded. "Poor Ariel. He was a seeker after truth, and he died for that."

Tori pulled something out of her pocket, put it on the table between them. She smoothed out the creases. "I didn't tell you about this before, but Ariel made sure I had this before he died. He obviously thought it was significant."

Russell looked at the photograph. "It's of Ariel. That's San Francisco, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's a park very close to his house."

He looked on the back, read off the date. March 21.

"Jesus!" Tori snatched the photo out of his hand, studied it carefully. Now she knew why the dates of Bernard Godwin's trip had rung a bell. They coincided with when this picture was taken. She moved the photo closer, peered intently at the people in the background. And there, just to the left of the couple, in the extreme left-hand corner of the frame, was a man. Bernard Godwin.

Russell could see it, too. You had to be looking for Bernard, but once you did, you could recognize him.

"Ariel had him pinpointed, all right," Tori said.

Russell nodded. "It would seem so."

''And was murdered for it?''

"Do you think so?" Russell was not convinced. "But there must be something more to this photo. What's so incriminating about it? I mean, Bernard could have gone to San Francisco for a vacation, to see a woman, any of a million reasons." He studied the photo again, handed it back. "Can you make out this couple?"

Tori shook her head. "They're further away than Bernard is, though they seem to be headed his way.''

''We could use a darkroom,'' Russell said. "If we could blow this picture up, we might be able to identify this couple in the background before the film got too grainy."