Текст книги "Snow Wolf"

Автор книги: Glenn Meade

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Gorev wiped his hands anxiously on his apron. '@It may be nothing important, but one of the delivery men who came this morning, he said there were plain-clothes militia at the railway station, checking papers. They seemed quite thorough. But what stuck him as odd was that they were checking both men and women."

"What's odd about that?"

Gorev tugged at his beard. "More usually the militia are in uniform when they're at the station, and trying to catch army deserters. Only this time they seemed to be paying as much attention to the women. I'll have to contact Erik and ask him to find out what's happening, but it may take a couple of hours. In the meantime, I suggest you remain here at the inn."

Stanski came back from the window and finished his coffee. He looked at Anna. "I don't know about you, but I need some air." Anna looked at Gorev, who shrugged. "Personally, I would prefer it if you both waited until I hear from Erik. Who knows?

There may be trouble."

"What sort of trouble?"

"That's God's guess. But if there's a lot of militia about, you can be sure something's up and it may be unwise to tempt your luck."

Stanski produced his wallet and examined his papers and food coupons. "Maybe now is our chance to see if our papers stand up to the test. I'd say it's as good a time as any." He smiled over at Anna. "What do you say?"

"Maybe Toomas is right. Perhaps it would be safer to stay here. But if you think we should ... ?"

Stanski grinned. "You're playing the compliant wife. Leaving the decisions to your husband."

"Then let's just hope, my darling husband, that it's the right one."

Stanski put away his wallet and saw the worried look on Gorev's face. "Don't fret, we'll be back before you know it. You have a map of the town?"

Gorev wiped his hands nervously on his apron. "In the back room. But I hope you're doing the right thing. And if you must go out, an hour, no more. Otherwise I'll start to worry."

Lukin came awake a little after eight, his head aching and his mouth dry. He had slept for only three hours and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

When he had shaved, an orderly brought him a tray with a samovar of tea. It tasted vile but he drank it thirstily and ignored the single slice of burned toast on the plate.

Five minutes later as he dressed there was a knock on the door and Kaman entered.

"Sorry to disturb you, Major. Some news just came in."

Lukin picked up his false hand lying beside him on the bed and began to strap it on. He saw the captain wince at the sight of the mangled stump.

"What's the matter? Haven't you seen a war wound before?"

Kaman blushed. "It just occurred to me, how do you manage to shave?"

"With great difficulty. Your report, Kaman."

"The foot patrol managed to get within twenty meters of the wreckage sites. One's definitely the missing Mig."

"And the other aircraft?"

"A light plane, make unknown, but definitely not one of ours."

"Any bodies?"

"Two. The Mig pilot and the other pilot in the light aircraft. The patrol couldn't get close enough to remove the corpses, and apparently there wasn't much left of either of them. Both appeared burned beyond recognition."

Lukin crossed to the wall map. "They're not going to be much help to us anyway. Have the checkpoints turned up anything yet?"

"Nothing except a half-dozen deserters and a black marketeer. One of the deserters was shot and wounded trying to escape."

"Excellent. At least we've done some good for the state.

Tell me, do you think the Estonian resistance might be helping our quarry?"

"It's possible, but they usually confine themselves to the forests, and the nearest group we know of is a hundred kilometers east of here."

Lukin crossed to the window and looked down at the barrack square. A couple of dozen soldiers marched by smartly in double file, and it was still dark outside.

He said without turning back, "Have you ever read Tut-genev, Captain?"

Kaman shrugged. "I come from a simple farming background, Comrade Major. Reading books wasn't half as important as cows."

Lukin smiled. "Nevertheless, Turgenev made an interesting observation. He used to say that when you're searching for something, don't forget to look behind your ears as well."

"I don't understand."

"If you wanted to hide a couple of enemy agents in Tallinn, where would you put them?"

Kaman scratched his chin. "Lots of places. Parts of the old town go back to the fourteenth century and the place is like a rabbit warren. Underground vaults and passageways from the days of pirate smuggling. I'm sure there are cellars and tunnels there we don't even know about."

"My point exactly." Lukin thought a moment "And the outskirts of the town?"

Kaman hesitated, then shook his head. "Too few people. And country folk would spot a stranger a mile off." He smiled. "In that part of the world, people would talk if you part your hair on the wrong side. Besides, half the population of Estonia are Russian plants. They'd be quick to inform the militia of suspicious strangers."

Lukin nodded. "Very well, forget about the rural areas for now." He pointed to the city map. "Concentrate on the city and the old town. For now I want checkpoints and roadblocks here, on all the main roads and the old entrance gates of the citadel. Maintain radio links to the barracks and inform KGB Headquarters on Pikk Street of our intention. These agents could have landed anywhere within a twenty-mile radius, but my guess is they'll try to hide where a new face doesn't look amiss. Anyone fitting the ages or descriptions is to be stopped and their papers checked thoroughly. And I mean thoroughly."

"Yes, Comrade Major."

Lukin dragged on his tunic. "Arrange an Emka and driver. And a mobile radio and maps. I'll be inspecting the checkpoints personally at intervals."

"As you wish, sir." Kaman snapped to attention.

As the captain turned to leave, Lukin looked down at the tea and burnt toast.

"Kaman, a decent breakfast might be in order. You can't expect a grown man to get through the morning on this."

Kaman blushed. "I'll have the cook see to it at once."

The ancient citadel of Tallinn had once been part of the old Hanseatic League, an ancient port and trading fortress and home to prosperous merchants and craftsmen, until the Russian Tsar had invited himself in and turned it into a colony. Then Stalin, then the Germans, then Stalin again.

Despite a long history of invaders, it looked as if time had not touched the narrow medieval cobbled streets. Sunlight splashed on yellow and blue pastel walls, and all around were oak-beamed inns and houses, and gilded onion-domed churches.

As they walked along Pikk Street, the main avenue that cut through the length of the town, Stanski looked in the drab shop windows.

In a butcher's shop a single scrawny carcass of beef hung from a solitary hook. In another shop window, a bored woman arranged a couple of pairs of cheap rubber shoes. Stanski decided to try his coupons, and when he bought a bottle of vodka in a shop off Pikk Street the girl behind the counter took his coupon and money without batting an eye.

As they came onto Lossi Square, dozens of attractive girls sat around on the park benches, their legs crossed, smiling at passing uniformed sailors from the Soviet Baltic Fleet. Stanski noticed there were numbers chalked on the soles of the girls' shoes.

"The girls are prostitutes from Moscow, here for the sailors," Anna explained, smiling. "Prostitution is against the law and a Gulag offense, but the militia can't arrest the girls until they catch them soliciting by asking a price. So the girls write their fee on their shoes and they're not breaking the law."

"All very civilized and clever. You think they'd take coupons?"

Anna laughed. "Stanski, you're crazy."

"The name's Bodkin, remember."

"And it suits you in those trousers."

They came to a park on a hill at the top of the town, with a view down to the sea. Despite the clear blue skies it was freezing cold. Behind the park was some kind of large official residence, two soldiers in uniform on guard duty outside. The park was empty except for a couple of elderly ladies walking their dogs and a strolling soldier and his girlfriend.

They found a bench and Stanski uncorked the vodka and took a sip, then handed the bottle to Anna. "Here, put a little sunshine in your heart."

She took a sip. Stanski was watching her face and said, "Stalingrad. Tell me about it."

"Why do you want to know?"

"No reason. Just curious."

She looked out at the park. "It was terrible. The savagery. The house-to-house fighting. The endless days and nights without sleep. The intense cold. And always wondering if you were going to have enough to eat that day, or if you were going to die. The shelling was the worst. The noise went on for months, day and night. It got so bad even the dogs would drown themselves in the Volga-they couldn't take any more." She hesitated. "But it taught me how to survive. After Stalingrad, nothing could really frighten you." Stanski said quietly, "What do you believe in, Anna?"

She shook her head. "I think I stopped believing in everything the day they took my daughter away."

"You never told me how Massey intends getting her out."

"The same way he intends getting me out, whatever way that is. Just as soon as he finds out what orphanage she's in.

Stalin's made so many orphans, and there are so many orphanages in Moscow, Jake said it's going to take time to find Sasha. Some of the children are often given new names, to make them forget their backgrounds and their parents. But he promised me he won't fail." She paused. "And you, what do you believe in?"

He took in her figure and smiled faintly, and Anna said straight-faced, "Besides that? If you don't believe in anything, then what would please you?"

He thought for a long time. His face looked more serious. "What would please me? To be able to walk in my father's garden again. To smell the scent of apple trees and cherry blossoms. To be with my parents and brother and sister once more."

:"You're such a strange man, Alex."

"In what way?"

" You're a killer. And yet you talk of the scent of apple trees and gardens. Or maybe you're just a typical Russian. Sentimental when you drink vodka for a memory that can never be recaptured." He laughed and said, "Or maybe I'm just trusting you enough to let you get close."

She saw something vulnerable in his eyes then, and as he offered her the bottle she shook her head.

"I think I've had enough. Any more and you'll have to carry me back."

When he looked away over the town she studied his face. The words he had spoken had obviously affected him. There were no tears, but there was a tightening around his mouth and a distant look in his eyes, as if what he had said of his past had been painful to remember.

She wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck and stood. "I think it's time we were getting back. Gorev will be worried."

Stanski looked up. "Anna..

"What?"

"Do you have any regrets after what happened last night?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No regrets." Her hand reached out and a finger gently brushed his lips. "It's been a long time since someone had their arms around me. A long time since I felt so secure and safe and wanted."

"And did you want me?"

"Maybe I've wanted you since the first day I saw you. Only I didn't want to admit it." She smiled. "Women can be like that, you know. It's a kind of foolish pride."

He stood and kissed her. "So, do you really think I'm crazy?"

There was a kind of childish innocence to the question that suddenly made her feel very tender toward him. She smiled faintly.

"Perhaps just a little. But then all of us Russians are."

Gorev, his face pale, looked from Stanski to Anna as they sat in their bedroom. The innkeeper had ushered them upstairs as soon as they returned.

"Bad news. I had a visit from the local militia sergeant."

Stanski said worriedly,"What did he want?"

"To see the inn's guest register. Luckily I hadn't written in your names. When he saw the ranks of the two KGB officers in the register he left. We're in the clear for now but it doesn't look good."

Gorev wiped his hands anxiously on his grimy smock. "According to Erik, the army and militia are setting up roadblocks everywhere. They're watching the bus and railway stations and the airport with great interest. It seems almost everyone's papers are being checked. Apparently, some KGB major arrived here from Moscow last night to take charge of the operation.

His name's Lukin, and barrack rumor has it he's working directly for Beria. Erik says he's got everyone on their toes. The militia shot one man already at the railway station. A deserter, poor bastard."

"Did Erik know exactly why this Major Lukin was in Tallinn?"

"That's the really rich part. Erik heard he's looking for two agents who parachuted in last night. Apparently, a Mig disappeared and crashed off the coast. A foot patrol was sent out onto the Baltic ice last night. This morning they found the wreckage, and another of a light aircraft that had crashed mid air into the Mig. No doubt it was the aircraft that dropped you.

That explains why the army and militia are swarming all over Tallinn like flies on shit."

Stanski went noticeably white. He looked at Anna. There was a shocked look on her face. He turned back to Gorev.

"But how could this Lukin have known about us?"

"Search me. Maybe some yokel found your buried parachutes. But he does and that spells trouble for all of us."

Stanski saw Anna's face pale.

Gorev said quickly, "My intention was to put you on the train for Leningrad, but that's out of the question now with the station being watched. Even the buses are being stopped and checked, and the airport is definitely out, security will be too tight." Anna said anxiously, "What can we do?"

Gorev stroked his beard nervously. "God only knows. Normally our resistance people in the forests would hide you. But getting you through the roadblocks would be too difficult and their nearest camp is too far. I doubt Erik could try to borrow the truck again, that would be tempting luck too far. Besides, this Lukin seems to have commandeered every available vehicle and man at the barracks. And even if I got you to our resistance there are risks involved. The boys may not welcome your company right now; they get enough flak from the Reds as it is."

Stanski slammed a fist on the table in frustration.

"Damn it to hell!" Gorev said, "Erik tells me they'll start house-to-house searches if they haven't found you both by tomorrow."

Anna glanced at Stanski, a look of indecision on her face, and I then she said, "What do we do?"

' Either way, I'm on this ride to the end of the tracks. But if you want to take your chances alone trying to hide out with the partisans, I'm sure Gorev will oblige and I won't stop you."

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I stay with you."

"Then there's no choice at all, really. We have to move. We haven't a chance in hell staying here."

"But that doesn't seem possible. How can we get out of Tallinn?"

"You could try the sewers under the old town, but you'd be asphyxiated by the fumes before you got ten meters."

"Where do the sewers lead?"

"To the edge of the old town. But after that where do you go? And Erik says the Reds are everywhere."

"It could be worth a try."

Gorev shook his head firmly. "Forget it. We used the sewers once to hide weapons from the Germans. The gases killed two of our men and another died from blood poisoning. A couple of sniffs of that foul air and you'd be on your backs in the mortuary. And even if you did manage to stay conscious, most of the tunnels lead to under the KGB headquarters. You take the wrong turn and you'd save this Major Lukin the effort of finding you."

"Still, it looks like we'll just have to take our chances. Could Erik find us some gas masks at the barracks?"

Gorev shrugged. "I can ask, but there's still the risk of drowning or poisoning yourselves in the effluent. But it's ),our heads on the chopping block, I suppose."

They all heard a screech of tires on the cobbled street below and they looked out of the window anxiously.

The Emka had drawn up and the two KGB officers, Zinov and Bukarin, stepped out, two young women accompanying them. They all looked the worse for drink and the women laughed as the young captain staggered drunkenly toward the inn.

Gorev's face screwed up in disapproval. "Drunken bastards.

Back for more drink at the bar and a roll in the hay with those tans from the town."

Stanski thought for a moment, then said, "Did you tell your guests who we were?"

"Only that you were my niece and her husband on honeymoon. Why?"

"Nothing more? No names?"

Gorev shrugged. "It didn't seem important to elaborate. Besides, they didn't seem that interested."

"When do your two friends leave?"

"Zinov drives back to Leningrad tomorrow morning, presuming he's sober enough to drive. Bukarin, the younger one, tells me his girlfriend wants him to stay behind another couple of days. Why?"

"Maybe there's another way out of this rattrap." Stanski smiled. "You think you could find me an army officer's uniform?"

Zinov was sitting at the bar when Stanski went in. One of the women, a blond, busty girl, sat next to the colonel, nibbling his ear. A bottle of champagne was in front of them, two glasses poured. The young captain and his girlfriend were nowhere to be seen.

Zinov said, "Ah, my friend, you're just in time for some champagne. We helped ourselves, I'm afraid. No sign of Gorev."

The colonel's eyes were glazed from alcohol, and as Stanski sat down he said, "Your wife isn't joining you?"

"Tired, I'm afraid. She decided to have a nap."

Zinov grinned crookedly. "My captain friend and his lady had the same problem. Shame. This Crimean champagne is really excellent. It has Maria here as tight as a rusty nut."

The young woman giggled and almost fell off her stool. Zinov grabbed her. "Hey, steady, old girl. We've still got another night to go."

The girl was pretty, her blond hair cut short, but she wore too much make-up. Her blouse was open a couple of buttons to reveal an ample bosom and her skirt rode halfway up her thighs. She tried to focus on Stanski as she patted the bar stool next to her, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

"Here, you sit beside me."

Zinov sipped champagne and grinned. "You're talking to a newly married man, old girl. Right now he's beyond temptation. Give him a couple of years of married life and try again."

"Well, I still think he's nice," the woman gushed drunkenly.

"We're all nice until you marry us." Zinov patted the girl's thigh and winked at Stanski. "Perhaps it's just as well that good wife of yours isn't here, my boy. She probably wouldn't approve. I know mine wouldn't." The colonel chuckled at his own joke.

:"Each to his own, Colonel."

"That's what I always say. Well, don't just stand there with a dry mouth. Have a drink."

Zinov poured a glass of champagne for Stanski and another for himself and the girl. Stanski said quickly, "Actually, I came to ask you a favor."

:"Oh, and what's that?"

"I received an urgent call to report back to Leningrad. My unit is setting out for winter training maneuvers tomorrow night."

"Funny, I thought you had a slight look of the army about you. But why didn't Gorev say you were a military man?

What's your rank and division?"

"Captain. The 17th Armored. I brought my uniform with me, half expecting a call, but not so soon."

"What a damned shame. Rather upset your honeymoon plans, hasn't it? I know one or two of the boys up the military ladder in Leningrad. You want me to try and twist a few ears so you can stay on?"

"Thanks for the offer, sir, but I'm anxious to get back. I've already promised my wife to make up for the honeymoon with a trip to Odessa."

"Good for you. Duty first, eh?"

"I was really hoping you might be able to oblige us with a lift. The last train for Leningrad left half an hour ago and the first one tomorrow morning leaves too late. Toomas mentioned you were traveling to Leningrad and I wondered if you had a couple of empty seats in the Emka. But forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn."

Zinov smiled drunkenly. "Nonsense. A pleasure, and I'd be glad of the company. I have an early start, mind. Seven A.M. Does that suit you?"

"Perfectly." Stanski finished his champagne and put down the glass. "My thanks for the drink, Comrade Colonel."

"You're going so soon?"

"I've got some packing to do, I'm afraid. And I'd better tell my wife."

"Right, see you at seven, then."

The girl began rubbing Zinov's chest and the colonel slapped her thigh. "That's assuming, of course, this little tigress here doesn't kill me with passion before the night's out."

It was almost midnight and Stanski sat at the bedroom window smoking a cigarette. Anna came over and looked at him.

"You think it will work?"

He shrugged. "I can't think of anything else besides the sewers, and we can't stay here. There's a chance the checkpoints won't be as suspicious of a car with two officers in uniform. And an officer's wife traveling with her husband shouldn't arouse too much curiosity."

"What if we're stopped?"

"Try not to seem like you're frightened. The KGB can smell fear."

"You think it was Janne's plane that alerted them?"

"Probably."

There was a knock on the door. Stanski opened it and Gorev came in carrying an army captain's uniform, brown leather belt and holster, overcoat, cap and boots.

"It's the best I could do at short notice. Erik got everything from the army stores. The size should be all right, but the divisional flashes are a problem, I'm afraid. All they had was the 14th Armored."

"I'll just have to manage and hope Zinov was too drunk to remember I told him otherwise. Where is he?"

"In his bedroom with his girlfriend, drinking and wrecking my bed."

Stanski smiled. "Thanks, Toomas."

Gorev nodded and said anxiously, ,Well, good luck, both of you. See you in the morning."

When he had left Stanski tried on the uniform. He buckled on the holstered Tokarev pistol and leather belt over the tightwaisted officer's smock tunic, then adjusted his cap in the mirror.

Anna came in from the bathroom where she too had been dressing and Stanski said, "What do you think? Do I pass?"

She looked at him. The blue eyes stared out arrogantly from under the broad-peaked officer's cap, and in his polished boots and captain's stiff shoulderboards and wasted tunic he looked the part.

"I have to admit it suits you. Only try not to look so menacing.

"I'm a Russian officer. It comes with the territory. Right, let me see what you'll be wearing."

Anna had changed into her clothes for the morning, a dark pleated skirt and a blouse opened at the neck. Her hair was down and her make-up emphasized her good looks. Stanski shook his head. "An officer's wife ought to look suitably attractive, but not that attractive. Your blouse would be better buttoned up to the neck and your hair's got to come up. Try to look a little dowdy."

"Thanks."

He reached over and pulled up her hair and tied it severely with a bow.

"That's better. Any nlilitiaman will be drawn to look at a pretty face. Use your make-up more cleverly to avoid looking too good and keep your scarf up around your neck. Are you wearing underwear?"

" What?"

He half smiled. "You heard me. Are you wearing underwear? The flimsy variety or something sturdier and warmer?

The kind my old babushka used to swear by."

"It's been ten below freezing outside. What do you think?"

Stanski smiled. "good. Tuck those into your underwear tomorrow." He handed her his sets of false papers. "I suggest you do the same with your own, just in case they try a body search at the checkpoints. A militiaman usually won't feel between a woman's legs, unless he's a complete animal. But if he does, play the cards as they fall."

Anna took the papers.

Stanski said, "And you'd better leave your pistol with Toomas before we go. If we are stopped and searched and they find it on you, it would only complicate matters."

"What about you?"

"I'm in uniform."

"How would you explain the silenced Na gant revolver?"

He smiled. "Let me worry about that." He looked at her face seriously. "It's not going to be easy from now on, Anna. You understand that?"

"Yes, I know."

"And you know what to do if we get separated and there's a risk of being caught?"

She nodded solemnly.

Helsinki.

Branigan was standing at the window on the second floor of the American Embassy, drinking his third cup of coffee. Massey sat in a nearby leather easy chair, looking grim as he stared out at the lights of the islands out in Helsinki bay.

There was a knock on the door and Douglas Canning came in holding a slip of flimsy paper in his hand. Massey stood anxiously.

"Bad news, I'm afraid. I did as you asked and according to our radio monitoring boys here in the embassy there's a hell of a lot of transmission activity going on in Tallinn. Some kind of search, by the sound of it. Our boys gather from the gist of it that they're looking for two people, a man and a woman. Looks like your two friends are definitely in for trouble."

Branigan put down his coffee and snatched the paper from Canning's hand and stared at it, then crumpled the paper and flung it angrily against the wall.

"Damn ..." Canning said to Massey, "Doesn't anyone get to tell me what's going on here?"

Massey didn't reply, and Branigan looked across at him sternly. "I told you already, no questions. This is a top-secret matter. You keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you."

The diplomat flushed and looked offended. "Look, like you say, it's none of my business, and I don't know what the hell is going on, but what's the story here? Are you and your people planning on staying around here?"

Branigan sighed and shook his head. "We're into a whole different ball game." He looked over at Massey. "I was right. You really fucked up, Jake. Big time." Massey said worriedly, "What happens now?"

Branigan ignored the question and said to Canning, "I need to make an urgent call. Have you got a secure line I can use?"

Canning smiled. "Sure. But I wouldn't suggest you phone the Ambassador this late. The old man gets mighty sore about late-night calls to his home."

Branigan stared back at the man with angry contempt. "You moron. I don't want to talk with the goddamned Ambassador. I want to talk with the President."

Tallinn. February 2 7th Zinov looked red-eyed from a blinding hangover when Anna and Stanski entered the dining room before seven. His jowls were like rubber and his brow furrowed as he sat alone at a table.

He waved to them silently across the room, and returned to his breakfast. When Gorev came in to serve them coffee, Stanski noticed that the innkeeper's hands shook.

"What's the matter?" he said quietly.

Gorev leaned over to pour coffee and whispered, "I took a walk down to the market square at six. The town is crawling with militia and KGB and there are checkpoints everywhere. Without sounding like a defeatist, the moment you're gone I'm going to go and stay with my friends in the forest until I think it's safe to reappear. If you're caught, that could be never."

Across the room, Zinov suddenly stood, wiped his mouth with his table napkin, and came over. He managed a weak smile at Gorev. "That champagne of yours could kill a man. My head feels like someone's been pounding it all night with a rubbe club."

"Every indulgence has its price, Colonel."

"Indeed," replied Zinov dryly. He looked at Anna an( smiled again weakly. "May I say you look very fetching this morning, my dear."

Anna wore heavy make-up that was far from pleasing an( guessed Zinov was being polite. "Thank you, Colonel. My husband told me you're driving us to Leningrad. I'm very grateful."

"Nonsense. We have to look after our men in uniform. I'm just sorry this business of his has upset your honeymoon plans." Zinov looked at his watch and said briskly, "I'll be leaving in ten minutes, so try not to dally. They're expecting me in Leningrad for a staff lunch at one."

He turned to go, then hesitated and said to Stanski, "We'll leave by the old East Tower, by the way. It takes us directly out onto the coast highway. And just so you know, I heard last evening the authorities are looking for a couple of enemy agents who parachuted in the other night, so there are probably going to be checkpoints, but hopefully they shouldn't bother US."

Stanski pretended surprise. "Really? Enemy agents from where?"

"You know, I didn't even ask. A man and a woman. That's all I know."

Lukin had woken at six, still exhausted after sleeping badly. He shaved and dressed before sitting at the table and reading through the night's reports which Kaman had brought in.

Kaman had also left a samovar of tea and some fresh rolls and foul-tasting plum jam on a breakfast tray. Lukin had distrusted the captain, saying he would call if he needed him.

Now he spread the reports in front of him and sifted through the pages. The words danced on the paper, his eyeballs raw and sore from lack of sleep.

There was nothing much of interest. Every hotel and inn in the city and old town had been visited and all the guests had been accounted for, their backgrounds checked and verified by KGB Headquarters on Pikk Street, The deserter tally had risen to twenty-one arrested.

There was a joke in the army that if you were going to desert, you headed west to the Baltic. The women were beautiful and the drink stronger and at least a man might have some fleeting enjoyment before being sent to a Siberian penal colony for desertion.

Lukin looked up briefly to stare out at the darkness. Winter in this part of the Baltic was dark and brooding, only three hours of sunshine at most, and he always found winter depressing. He longed for some warm Crimean sun; the scent of orange blossoms and wild jasmine and a hot wind on his face. He had promised to take Nadia to the Crimea this summer. He wondered if he would still be alive by then to keep his promise.

He thought of her now, and dreaded to consider what might become of her if he failed. He couldn't fail. Lukin sighed in despair and concentrated again on the reports, tension and frustration coiled up inside him like a spring.