Snow Wolf (18 page)

He replaced the file in his briefcase,
then removed another, placed it on the table and slid it across. "Joseph
Stalin" was written on the folder cover in blue ink.

"in the meantime, you'd better read
this."

Stanski picked up the folder. "What
is it?"

"Everything we know about Joseph
Stalin. His background, his personality, his weaknesses, his strengths. Even
medical data. His present security arrangements, as far as we can as certain.
The layout of the Kremlin and the dachas he uses. I want you to study it
carefully. This isn't an ordinary mission, Alex. You're going to try and kill
the devil incarnate. You know the rule-know your enemy like you know yourself,
Needless to say, you don't show the file to anyone. Destroy it when you've
memorized everything you need to."

Stanski half smiled. "Then all
things being equal I guess there's really only one more question."

"What's that?"

"When do I go in?"

"A month from now."

New York. January 26th The apartment was
on the top floor and she came to the door as soon as Massey knocked,
"Hello, Anna."

For a moment she hesitated, then a smile
lit up her face. "Massey ... !"

"You look surprised."

"I thought I'd never see you
again."

She took him by the hand, led him inside
and closed the door. The apartment was a studio with a single bed, a table and
two rickety chairs. There were some winter roses in a vase by the window and
the view looked down to a liquor store below, Brooklyn and Queens in the
distance.

The place didn't look like much but then
Massey guessed she would have been happy with anything after her experience in
the Gulag. She had done her best to make it pretty, but there were no family
photographs on the walls and it made him feel sad, knowing how lonely she must
have felt. He handed her the brown wrapped parcel. "For you."

She smiled and the surprise lit up her
face. "I don't understand. What is it?"

"Open it and See."

She opened the brown paper. It was a box of
Kuntz's chocolates. The big brown eyes looked almost childlike as they met his
face. gain. One Massey said in Russian, "My way of saying hello a Russian
to another. How have you been, Anna?"

"Good. And even better now I've seen
you again. Thank you for the present, Jake."

"It's nothing." He looked at
her figure. "Don't get angry when I say this, but you've put on weight
since Helsinki and it suits YOU."

She laughed. "Then I'll take it as a
compliment." She held up the box of chocolates. "And these are not
going to help, but thank you again." She stood up as she said, "I
found an immigrant store that sells really good Russian tea. Would you like
some?"

"You read my mind, I'll have it
Russian-style." He smiled. "Seven sugars but don't stir."

She laughed and went into the tiny
kitchen.

They sat at the table. Massey sipped the
tea and spoke in Russian.

"It's good to see you smile, Anna. I
guess last time we met you didn't have much to smile about. I hear you have a
job?"

"In a garment factory owned by a
Polish-American. It's a crazy place, but I like it. And the girls I work with
are not how I thought American girls would be."

"In what way?"

"They talk a lot more than Russian
girls. And they laugh more. And eat more." She smiled. "A lot more.
That's why I put on weight."

"I guess you must make big dresses,
huh?"

She laughed. "Not that big."

"Have you made many friends?"

"Some."

Massey looked around the room.
"Don't you get lonely here all on your own?"

"Sometimes." She shrugged.
"It's not so bad. But I'm so glad you came to see me, Jake."

"Actually, it's unofficial business,
not pleasure. But it's good to see you too."

She put down her cup and looked across at
him. "I don't understand. I was told someone wanted to talk to me about my
work permit. Is that why you're here?"

For several moments Massey sat there, not
saying anything.

When he finally spoke his voice was quiet
and serious.

"Anna, I didn't come here to talk
about that. I came to talk about something else."

When he saw the confusion on her face he
said, "Will you do something for me, Anna? Will You just listen to what I
have to say? Then we can talk some more. But for now, just listen."

Anna hesitated, then nodded.

Massey stood up. He ran a hand through
his hair and looked down at her face.

First, I want you to understand one
thing. What I have to tel;,you is strictly confidential. if you speak about it
to anyone I can promise that your right to remain in this country will be
revoked. You may even face court charges," He saw the sudden look of fear
on her face and said, "I'm sorry for being so blunt, Anna, but you'll
understand why when I've finished. I want to put a proposition to you. If you
say no to what I'm going to propose then I walk away from here and you never
see me again and this conversation never took place. If you say yes, then we
talk some more. Is that much clear, Anna?"

She was still looking at him, confusion
on her face, and Massey said gently, "Don't be afraid. Whatever your
answer is, it in no way affects your right to remain in America. But I want to
make it clear that you speak to no one about this conversation."

She nodded slowly. "I
understand."

"Good. Now we've got that part out
of the way." He sat down and took his time before he began. "Anna ...
The people I work for, they need a woman to be part of a mission. A very
sensitive mission."

She stared back at him. "What sort
of mission'? You mean something to do with the military?"

Massey shook his head and half smiled.
"N(A the military, Anna. And I can't tell you who right now. But let's
just say these people plan to send a man, an American, into Russia. Moscow to
be precise. They need a woman to accompany him, someone who's recently been in
the Soviet Union. Someone who knows her way around and wouldn't feel or look
out of place. This woman would have to act at being the man's wife. It would be
dangerous and difficult and there's no guarantee she'd come back."

"I don't understand. What has this
got to do with me?"

"The people I spoke about want you
to be that woman."

Massey studied her face. She looked
totally confused. For several long moments she stared back at him.

"I don't understand? You're asking
me to go to Moscow?"

"I know it sounds crazy. What you
escaped from doesn't bear thinking about. To ask you to go back again is like
asking you to return to hell. But not for nothing, Anna. Like I said, there's
something these people can do for you in return." She looked at Massey,
totally dumbstruck, then she said, "What?"

"Get your daughter back."

Massey studied her reaction. It was as if
a painful, terrible wound had opened. Her face drained of color and she didn't
speak for several moments, the dark eyes probing Massey's face.

"Anna, I told you before this
conversation began all I needed to know after I put the proposition to you was
do we keep talking, or do I walk away from here and we never see each other
again."

She stared at him and Massey saw the wet
eyes. "You didn't lie when you said you can get Sasha out of Russia? You
can really do that? You can bring her to America?"

"It can be done, Anna. You'll just
have to trust me." He stood up slowly. "Do you want a little time to
think about what I've said? If you like I can take a walk and come back in an
hour."

She stared back at him. For several
moments she stood there, tears at the edges of her dark eyes.

"No, I want to hear what you have to
say."

Massey put a hand gently on her shoulder
and said, "How about I fix us some more tea'? Then we can talk this
over."

She sat there listening intently. When
Massey had finished she asked, "How long would I be in Russia?"

"At the outside, ten days. But
that's not something I can guarantee. We'll do our best to keep it as brief as
possible. But it will be dangerous, Anna. Make no mistake. I'd be lying if I
told you otherwise."

"What is this man going to do in
Moscow?"

"Kill someone." Massey said the
words so matter-of-factly he thought she Would be shocked, but she didn't
react, her face blank. "Who?"

"That's not something you need to
know."

"Then am I allowed to ask why?"

"You don't need to know the answer
to that question either. But you'll be long gone from Moscow before it
happens.""He paused. "Anna, I'll be honest with you. It's a very
difficult and dangerous operation. And like I said, you may not come back. But
that's a risk you're going to have to take to get your daughter back."

She hesitated a moment. "Why did you
come to me?"

Massey smiled. "I guess the people I
speak for think you have all the right qualifications for the job. You speak
Russian and you know the country."

"You didn't tell me how you'd get my
daughter out. You didn't tell me how you'd find her."

He shook his head.

"And I can't. Not until I know you
agree to go along with what I've proposed. But what we do know will help. She's
in an orphanage, probably in Moscow. We have contacts in Moscow through the
immigrant organizations. Underground groups and dissidents. People who could
help us find your daughter. It's not going to be easy-in fact, it's going to be
downright difficult-but if you go along with this then you'll have my word the
deal will be kept. Not only that, but I'll arrange new identities for you and
Sasha, and whatever you'll need materially to start a new life together
afresh."

The tears had stopped but Massey saw a
look like grief on her face. He guessed she had tried hard to put her daughter
from her mind but had found it impossible.

He stood up slowly. "Maybe things
are moving a little too fast for you right now. And I guess my vagueness hasn't
helped, but like I said I can't tell you any more until I know where I
stand."

He wrote down a phone number on a slip of
paper. "You need to be alone to think this through. I'm staying at the
Carlton off Lexington Avenue. Room 107. You can contact me there when you make
up your mind. There's someone at the hotel I want you to meet. He'll have the
final decision whether you go to Moscow or not. But call me tonight one way or
the other."

As Massey left the note on the table Anna
shook her head. "That's not necessary. I've already thought about it, The
answer is yes."

Stanski sat in the room on the eighth
floor of the hotel off Lexington Avenue, sipping a Scotch. He heard the
footsteps outside, then the door opened and he saw Massey standing in the
doorway.

A woman stood beside him. She was very
beautiful. She had high cheekbones and dark hair. She wore a simple,
inexpensive black dress that emphasized her figure, and he couldn't help but
admire the splendid curves of her body.

But it was her face that held him; a face
he instantly reacted to. Something in those dark Slavic eyes that suggested a
curious mixture of strength and remorse. It seemed like a long time before his
eyes left her face, as Massey said, "Alex, meet Anna Khorev." Anna
stood there staring at the man. There were a few moments of hesitation, and
then she saw his eyes take her in. It was as if they bored into her very soul,
terribly frightening and terribly reassuring both at once, and it seemed he was
trying to make up his mind about something.

Then he glanced at Massey, and as he
looked back at Anna he suddenly smiled broadly, raised his glass in a toast,
and said in Russian, "I guess it's welcome to the club."

The two men sitting in the black Packard
across the street from the hotel had followed the yellow cab from Manhattan's
East Side.

As Massey and Anna had climbed out, the
man in the passenger seat had rolled down the window and steadied the Leica.

The light was bad but there was a wash
from the blaze of lights at the front of the building and the man got two shots
of the couple as they got out of the cab, another three as they went up the
steps into the hotel.

New York. January 27th, 8 Pm.

The man who called himself Kurt Braun had
his eyes on the girl's breasts as she leaned over to place his double Scotch on
the table. They were magnificent in the low-cut top, even in the dim lighting
of the dingy bar on Manhattan's Lower East Side docks.

"That'll be a dollar, sir."

Braun smiled at the girl as he peeled off
two singles from the wad he took from his pocket.

"Keep the change. You look like
you're new here."

"Thanks, mister. I started
Friday."