Authors: NELSON DEMILLE

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The Charm School (52 page)

BOOK: The Charm School

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“Why?”

“I . . . I thought we could . . . spend some time . . . a proper good-bye.”

She looked at him. “Is that a proposition?”

“No. Really, I just . . . look, what I’m trying to say is that Hollis is a target. I don’t like the idea of you being near him—”

“I know that. He told me that, and I could figure that out for myself. But I’m not a wilting flower, Seth. I was willing to share any danger with you, and I will give him the same loyalty.”

Alevy looked at her, and a sad smile came across his face. He nodded. “That’s why I love you.”

They kissed, and Seth Alevy turned and walked quickly from the waiting room, the Russians and Americans in the room looking at him, then at Lisa.

She sat down again and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief as she leafed through an old copy of
Time.
“Damn you, Alevy. Damn men.” She looked at her watch. “Come on, Sam.”

* * *

Alevy found Hollis in the narrow corridor that led back to the main concourse. Alevy pointed at the ceiling, and they walked back to the crowded terminal building. They stood quietly among the milling people for a minute, then Alevy said, “Did you want to speak to me?”

Hollis replied, “I assume the meeting went well, or you’d be in a less playful mood.”

“It went fine.”

“You got the microfilm?”

“I did.”

“Did you look at it?”

“Briefly.”

Hollis drew a deep breath of impatience. “I can either pull teeth, or I can knock them all out, right here.”

Alevy regarded Hollis a moment, then his eyes became unfocused as though his mind just got a phone call. He refocused on Hollis and said, “Sam, I promise you, you’re still on the case. You have my word on that.”

Hollis studied Alevy’s face a moment. “Okay. Was the microfilm good stuff ?”

“The jackpot. But I don’t know how the FBI is going to proceed with it.”

“That’s their problem, not ours.”

“Well, it’s everyone’s problem. I’d like to see us just go public with the photos—TV and newspapers, movie theaters, shopping malls. That would blow every one of those Russian agents whether they’re White House janitors, defense workers, or congressional aides.” Alevy added, “However, I think the government wants the FBI to try to round them up quietly.”

“But you’d like it public. That would finish the summit and arms talks once and for all.”

“All that nonsense deserves to be dead and buried. What benefit is there to us to talk peace and trade, when the Soviets have massive economic problems and social unrest? As our mutual hero, Napoleon Bonaparte, said, ‘Never interrupt an enemy while he’s making a mistake.’”

Hollis smiled. “You
are
a manipulative son of a bitch.”

“Thank you. Speaking of manipulators, do you know who Charlie Banks works for?”

“Probably State Department Intelligence.”

“Right. You’re sharper than you look.” Alevy moved toward a group of Japanese businessmen who were talking loudly and animatedly, providing good sound cover from directional microphones. Hollis followed him. Alevy said, “State Department Intelligence here in Moscow spend most of their time spying on people like you and me. They think we’re trying to sabotage their diplomatic initiatives.”

“Where would they get an idea like that?”

“Beats me. Anyway, SDI would be harmless except that they’re an arm of the venerable and powerful Department of State. And in the matter of the Charm School, Charles Banks is watching the situation very closely and reporting, I believe, directly to the President.”

“He’s watching
you
very closely. What I don’t understand is how anyone is going to resolve the problem of the Charm School without all hell breaking loose.”

“There are ways to resolve it quietly. As long as Dodson doesn’t show up.”

“What if he does show up?”

Alevy replied, “I doubt if he’d make it over the wall. The militia and KGB have orders to shoot on sight. But if he did, by some miracle, get inside the embassy or get to a Western reporter in Moscow, then Banks, the Secretary of State, and the President will be singing my company song.”

Hollis said, “I keep thinking that if Dodson did get over the wall, he might not be home free. Is that an insane thought?”

“Yes, but it’s a good thought. I think old affable Charlie Banks is under orders to have Dodson killed to shut him up.” Alevy added, “And you think I’m nuts and immoral? Our government is ready to write off three hundred American airmen for some abstraction they call détente. Hell, I can’t even pronounce it, and the fucking Russians don’t even have a word for it.”

“Seth, I’ll try to separate the white hats from the black hats on the plane. Meet me in D.C., and we’ll talk to some of my people in the Pentagon. I won’t get involved in conspiracies, but we can talk about ways to bring those men home and not make them pawns in everyone’s power game.”

“All right. I’ll meet you in D.C.”

Hollis asked, “By the way, what did you think of General Surikov?”

“I spoke to him in the basement of the antique shop for half an hour. I don’t think he liked me.”

“He doesn’t have to like you. You’re not going to be his control officer. He’s leaving.”

“Well, that’s the other thing. I agree with you that he’s a legitimate defector. But I don’t think he’s going to make it in the West.”

“A lot of people who already live in the West aren’t making it. That’s not your concern. Just get him there.”

“I’m telling you, Sam, he’ll die when he leaves mother Russia. I know the type.”

“He has religion.”

“I’d love to keep him here in his job. He would be the highest-ranking agent we’ve ever had in the Soviet military. I’d turn him over to Bert Mills and—”

“Don’t give me that crap about him not surviving in the West. If you had an ounce of human compassion left in you, you’d see the man was suffering. If we ever do beat this system, it will be because we hold out an honest light to the decent people here. I never understood Surikov’s motives because I wasn’t thinking of the most obvious motive—the man wants to be free, whatever that means to him. He delivered, now
you
deliver.”

“All right . . . it was a thought—”

“Take a leave, Seth. You need it.”

“Oh, I know. By the way, I scanned that microfilm and found a picture of our custodian, Mr. Kellum, born Anatoli Vladimirovich Kulagin, in Kursk, USSR.”

Hollis nodded. “So we bagged the first one. How about Mrs. Kellum?”

“Didn’t come across her yet. Lots of work to do on that. She may be a real American, and she may or may not know who her husband is.”

“What are you going to do with the Kellums?”

“I’ll debrief them in the cellar for a few months. Dick, we know, is guilty, and as far as I’m concerned Ann is guilty by association. However, we can’t get them back to stand trial. And I can’t keep them locked up here forever. Also, they’re no good as trading cards because the Soviets will never claim them. So . . .” Alevy scratched his head. “I don’t know. Any ideas? What should I do with Dick and Ann, Sam?”

“Why don’t you shoot them in the head and drop them in the Moskva?”

“Excellent idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Hollis said, “I have to go.”

Alevy put his hand on Hollis’ arm. “When I was a young college liberal, I used to wonder how American airmen could drop bombs on the Vietnamese. Now I’m all grown up, contemplating cold-blooded murder for my country, and an airman is looking down his nose at me. Can’t win.”

“You’ve made your point. I apologize. Do what you have to do.”

“Thank you. I will. Well, so much for bad business. The good news is that the microfilm was an incredible counter-intelligence coup. Three
thousand
agents. My God, Sam, that’s the biggest single catch in history. And now with those Russian Americans in our hip pocket, we can tackle the problem of the Charm School itself.”

“A trade?”

Alevy nodded. “Three thousand of theirs for three hundred of ours. It’s a possibility. And we have you to thank for that. You did it, Sam. I think you got your people home.”

“But I thought there were people in Washington who didn’t want them home.”

“We’ll work on that. You have some clout yourself now. When you get to D.C., you’re going to be treated like a conquering hero. No parades, of course. Very quiet. But the top CIA people and your people in the Pentagon are going to present you with some awards. Real awards. And, you’re going to have an interview with the President, and don’t be surprised if he pins a general’s star on you. I just got that over the wire. I’d like to be there if you don’t mind.”

“Fine.”

“You outdid me this time, Sam.”

“Surikov just fell into my lap, Seth. You know that as well as I do.”

“Don’t be modest. Well . . . a personal note . . . on the subject of Lisa, all I can say is that I’m glad it was you and not some Foreign Service wimp.”

Hollis didn’t reply.

“Good luck. I wish you both happiness.”

“Thank you.” Hollis put out his hand. “And thanks for showing me around.”

Alevy took his hand. “We’ll meet again, in a better place than this.”

Hollis turned and walked toward the diplomatic wing. He said to himself, “That would be just about anyplace, Seth.”

Hollis also had the impression that Alevy did not think there was a better place. The truth was that Seth Alevy liked it here, or more accurately, needed to be here. He needed to breathe Moscow air and smell Moscow river fog. He needed the KGB, and in some perversely reciprocal arrangement they needed him, or they’d have had him expelled or killed long ago.

Possibly Seth Alevy was a living legend at the Lubyanka, and his stature increased the self-worth of his adversaries. But now their macabre dance of death and destiny was drawing to an end.

The further thought occurred to him that what Seth Alevy was saying about the Charm School wasn’t computing. If three thousand Russians were heading east and three hundred Americans were heading west, and that balanced the equation, then what was in it for Seth Alevy? Answer: zero. So back to the problem.

A man in a heavy overcoat opened the outside door to the diplomatic lounge and looked at Lisa and Hollis. “Pan Am. Frankfurt. Follow, please.”

Hollis and Lisa put on their coats and picked up their overnight bags.

Bert Mills came up to them. “I’ll go with you.”

Hollis said, “No need.”

“I have orders.”

Hollis, Mills, and Lisa walked past the Border Guard with the submachine gun and followed the Russian with the overcoat outside, down a set of steps where a small airport bus waited on the tarmac. A fine powdery snow sifted down from a softly overcast sky, and a wan sun peeked through, casting a sickly yellow haze over the snowy tarmac. They boarded the bus, on which they were the only passengers, and the driver headed out a taxiway where they saw a mammoth 747 bearing the blue and white markings of Pan Am.

Mills said, “Look at that. Look at
that.
”

Hollis said, “Looks good, guys.”

Mills said, “Let’s switch identities, Sam.”

“Can I go back to the embassy and sleep with your wife?”

Mills laughed. “Sure. I’ll wire her from Frankfurt.”

Lisa muttered, “Pigs.”

As they got closer to the plane, Hollis noticed four Border Guards around it with submachine guns.

They pulled up to the boarding stairs and got out of the bus. Mills said, “I’ll hang around awhile. But I think you’re home free.” He shook hands with Hollis and said, “It’s been a pleasure working with a pro.” He also took Lisa’s hand. “Safe trip.”

Hollis and Lisa went up the stairs and were met by a smiling woman who said in a twangy voice, “Hi, I’m Jo, your flight attendant in Clipper Class. How’re you folks this morning?”

Hollis noticed that she was deeply tanned, something he hadn’t seen in a while. He replied, “Just fine, Jo. You?”

“Real good. You folks traveling together?”

“Yes,” Lisa replied.

Jo looked at a boarding manifest. “You’re our DPLs, right?”

“Right,” Hollis replied. “That’s why we got the private bus and the bodyguard.”

Lisa poked him in the ribs.

Jo smiled and said, “Clipper Class is right up that little spiral staircase there. Can I help you with your bags?”

“That’s all right,” Hollis replied.

“How long you folks been here?”

“About two years,” Lisa replied.

“My Lord! I’ll bet you’re happy to be going home.”

BOOK: The Charm School