Read Someone Else's War: A Novel of Russia and America Page 77
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Something is wrong, Cooper thought as Suslov returned to take his seat. The man seemed turned utterly inward. He wrapped up the session as quickly as he could, then dismissed the students, adding a brief apology that he wouldn’t be able to stay after class to take questions and chat. However, his bar would be open as usual at noon and he had several new brands of bourbon to share.
The seminar room emptied. Suslov went into the corridor and walked slowly. Cooper gathered up his notes and fell in behind the general. Then he came alongside him, pretending to read his notes as they walked.
“Olivia,” Suslov said quietly, “has been arrested on suspicion of espionage and is being held in the Lubyanka. The charges are false but the FSB does have a genuine basis on which to proceed: a basis provided by the CIA. Olivia wants you to contact Rebecca Taylor of the Washington Post. She knows what that basis is, and has promised to do certain things in the event this happened. It has happened. I cannot order you to do this, obviously. I am only asking that you do this to help Olivia and our two countries.”
“And what of you?”
“I am to be held under house arrest, alone at my family dacha, until the situation develops further. General Trimenko has ordered me to say and do nothing after I leave this building. I am complying with his orders exactingly.”
Cooper briefly raised his eyes from his papers and smiled a bit. “You Russians place a high value on exactingness.”
“We do, Colonel. It is our way. I have made it clear to General Trimenko that I choose to share Olivia’s fate, whatever that might turn out to be, in whatever way might be open to me. Please consider Olivia’s request. Our request. It is not made lightly.”
And then he was gone, striding ahead of Cooper, who found himself standing still in the middle of an ornate, busy hallway, pretending to study his papers, while thinking in the hypertrophic Kentucky inner accent he used when it was time for serious decisions.
Well, now, what we got here? We got ourselves a Russkie gin-rel, a pretty decent fella and a damn fine soldier, askin’ me, an American colonel what spent two wars killin’ Commies and some other stuff…askin’ me, right here in friggin’ Moscow, to go to a Washington Post reporter so she can most like do a story to help spring his American girlfriend from the Lubby-Yanky or whatever they call it. His American girlfriend, what used to work at Los Alamos, but moved to Russia to make the Russkies gear I wish to Holy Jesus and Robert E. Lee that we had ourselves, but don’t ‘cause we turned her down ‘cause it didn’t cost enough. If she’s really an American spy, guess I’ll have to improve my opinion of her. If she ain’t, well, her lover says she ain’t, but he’s only a Russkie gin-rel, so what does he know?
I kinda like ‘em both.
He looked up at the officers passing by on their way to class. Nearly all knew him or of him. Nearly all spoke or nodded. He nodded back.
OK, Colonel. Decision time. You pays your money and you takes your choice. But damn it, all I really wanted outa this trip was a nice zakuska. Course, this is a chance to meet this Miss Rebecca. You might get lucky there, CC. Stranger things have happened.