***
General Schwartz was surprised to see Suslova enter his office. She came to a brief attention in front of his desk and he looked into her eyes, dreading what he would find. In his father’s day, had someone so close to a probable espionage suspect like Doctor Tolchinskaya come to see him, it would have been to grovel and beg and betray and accuse in an attempt to save his life. Some would be happy to return to those ways. He thought of Kristinich and Borodkin and tasted bile.
He did not know Suslova well. They had spoken from time to time at briefings and receptions. But he knew her by reputation. An extraordinarily able officer, of deep honesty and unquestionable loyalty, very clearly rising. She had worked a vicious, grueling deep-cover assignment for as long she could, and longer. You became known, and even if they didn’t get to you, the work itself did. She had killed a few people herself and sent more to execution, in Russia and elsewhere. Her tragedy was that she could do that work for the rest of her life and barely dent the numbers of people who were a plague upon the planet. If a Nobel Peace Prize were ever to be awarded for real-world prevention of nuclear catastrophe, her name would be very high on the list. An amusing thought, painful in this context.
Schwartz studied her intently, seeking the slightest trace of groveling in her eyes and finding only the most reassuringly calm clarity. “It is good to see you again, Colonel, even if unexpectedly. What brings you here?”
“General, I am here to offer my expertise.”
“In what specific regard?”
“In the matter of Doctor Tolchinskaya.”
Now it was Suslova’s turn to study him. Schwartz showed no reaction, except for the slightest crinkling around his eyes. She took it for what it was: the outer manifestation of a quizzical inner smile, and of happiness that she should have found her way here so quickly. He pondered who would have told her. His aide, Zhuralev? Trimenko or Getmanov? Zhuralev, he decided quickly. The man’s deteriorating health meant that he was very frank. It was one of the reasons why Schwartz trusted him so much. I have allies, he thought. I am not alone even here.
“Once I would not have tolerated this, Comrade Colonel.”
“I know that, Comrade General.”
“Colonel Zhuralev often has a fine sense of what needs to be done, without being told. Or sometimes, after being forbidden to do what he knows should be done.”
“Colonel Zhuralev?”
“Yes, Irina Borisovna. The man who did not make the phone call that has resulted in your not being here. I assume that he gave you the necessary details in his office before you entered here.” She began to smile, suppressed it, then permitted it. “But now I am very glad you are here. At ease, close the door, pour yourself some tea, let us just talk.”
She nodded and did as ordered, courteously handing him a fresh glass before she joined him in the cluster of armchairs at the opposite end of his office from his desk. “Thank you.” He looked at her closely. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I have two heads. Perhaps three.”
“I understand. After this morning’s events, I am feeling much the same. I note, however, that you still have a head. As do I. Perhaps we will both retain our heads. How well do you know Doctor Tolchinskaya?”
“Very well, although I wasn’t with her in Chechnya. I was one of her interrogators at Tver, as you know. As you probably also know, I developed a personal relationship with her after.”
“Yet you obviously keep some distance from her.”
“I do. And she does not try to cross that boundary.”
“Did she discuss her relationship with your brother with you?”
“She asked my blessing.”
“And you gave it.”
“Yes, after speaking with General Trimenko and making other inquiries.”
“Do you see your brother as a target?”
“He could be, but he has no weaknesses that can be exploited.”
“Except for this woman.” Schwartz paused, then spoke a bitter truth. “But then our loved ones always are our vulnerability. Or can be made so. Tell me, is it your instinct, without any evidence one way or the other, that she is also an intelligence operative?”
Suslova was silent for a while, then finally shook her head. “I’ve asked myself that question many times over the years I’ve known her. The answer has always been the same. I will tell you this. It is not so much that she has never done anything to arouse my suspicions, it is that on a very deep level, I have come to feel myself and my family safe with her. I conclude on the basis of the information available to me that she is not. However, my conclusion may be wrong.”
He spoke very plainly. “You know where this can go.”
“Yes. As do you.”
“Then, Comrade Colonel, you know this has to be contained. At all costs.”
“Comrade General, I do.”
“What will you do if we fail to contain it?”
“Resign if it is permitted me. If not, suicide.”
“Well then, Comrade, let us do together the things we have to do.”
Elegant as an unsheathed sword, Suslova silently inclined her head to him. He nodded back to her, waiting. “I made Doctor Tolchinskaya a promise at Tver. It concerned her death—that if it came to that, it would be decent and honorable.”
“If need be, I will see that you are able to keep your promise. But let us see if we can contain this otherwise.”
Relieved, she inclined her head again. “I believe that silence and secrecy are our allies for the moment, but ultimately our enemies.”
“That is an unbureaucratic instinct, but I agree with you. What do you have in mind?”
“The American reporter for the Washington Post, Rebecca Taylor.”
“What of her?”
“It may be that, to settle this, we have to get the Americans openly involved and under some pressure. I understand that the Washington Post is the kind of paper you go to when you have a secret that you’re afraid no one knows.”
“That is how they deal with each other. As they used to remind us, a secret weapon doesn’t scare anybody if you keep it a secret. Or a scandal. Or a possible espionage situation. How well do you know this Taylor?”
“I’ve run with her a few times, perhaps a dozen. We’ve attended a few social gatherings together and talked over drinks once or twice. I respect her as a journalist and a human being.”
Schwartz paused, then spoke slowly. “At the moment, our senior leadership knows nothing of Doctor Tolchinskaya and would care nothing if they did. There are far, far more important issues for them to wrestle. However, there are many people in subordinate positions, including some in this building, who might be most eager to get something started that would bring them to the attention of our senior circles. A Washington Post reporter could interest our leaders most economically in resolving this. Of course, the opposite could also be true. Involving the press is always an act with many possible consequences. The American press, especially.”
“Yes. Shall I approach her?”
“Not just yet. But hold yourself in readiness.”
“For anything, Comrade General.”
“Good. Today is nearly done. Go home to your family, try to get some sleep, Comrade Colonel. I doubt we are going to have much time for sleep so long as this case is active. After that, there will be plenty of time for us to sleep, one way or the other.” He smiled briefly, and she could see the fathomless fatigue and sorrow in his own eyes.