Read Someone Else's War: A Novel of Russia and America Page 73

  ***

  Olivia knew about the Suslov family dacha, an hour north and a little west of Moscow. Neither brother nor sister had been there much since the death of their parents. Only Valentina, for her own reasons. Briefly, she wondered how they would get in without a key. Then she realized that they probably had keys to every door in Russia. Still.

  Riding in the car in the back seat with Colonel Zhuralev, her hands uncuffed, the driver and matron up front, Olivia forced herself to think. A picture began to form. They’d let her keep her pistol; Suslov was most likely on his way. It was, very possibly, a setup. They’d shoot the two of them with their own weapons, then call it a murder-suicide or a double suicide or whatever was most convenient to whomever had ordered it. Or perhaps she and her lover really were expected to kill themselves and were being allowed the time to prepare for it. Olivia preferred the first scenario; Suslov might not. If she survived the night, would they really take her into custody for interrogation, as Colonel Zhuralev had said? If she was investigated, then what? She knew what she had done in Vienna. She also knew what she had not done since. She trusted Zhuralev. But he was only a colonel, a subordinate with no real power.

  Then there was the matter of what might be fabricated. And then there was the matter that anguished and disgusted her. Those she had endangered. Their names would be on an FSB list.

  When we love, we give hostages to fortune.

  And then a hideous thought suddenly came to her. Kristinich.

  If that came to pass, she would do everything she could to take him with her. Once, Suslov had told her that you could always commit suicide by biting off your own tongue, far enough back to bleed to death. She began to envision what it might be like to grasp Kristinich’s tongue and, smashing his jaws together, force him to bite off his own. Then she smiled grimly. Most probably, she could only force him to bite off the tip. But at least he would go through life with a speech impediment, and every word he spoke would be a reminder of how he got it.

  Hey, Kristinich, she thought to amuse herself. Stick out your fucking tongue.