The Defector (45 page)

AUTHOR’S NOTE

THE DEFECTOR is a work of entertainment. The names, characters, places, and incidents portrayed in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Siberian oil giant Ruzoil does not exist, nor does the Moskovskaya Gazeta or Galaxy Travel of Tverskaya Street. Viktor Orlov, Olga Sukhova, and Grigori Bulganov are in no way meant to be construed as fictitious renderings of real people.

The headquarters of the Israeli secret service is no longer located on King Saul Boulevard in Tel Aviv. I have chosen to keep the headquarters of my fictitious service there in part because I have always liked the name. I have tinkered with airline schedules to make them fit my story. Anyone trying to reach London from Moscow will search in vain for Aeroflot Flight 247. There is no private bank in Zurich called Becker & Puhl. Its internal operating procedures were invented by the author. The Office of Presidential Advance has been accurately portrayed, but, to the best of my knowledge, it has never been used to provide cover for an Israeli spy.

There is no airfield at Konakovo, at least not one I am aware of; nor is there a division of the FSB known as the Department of Coordination. A chess club does indeed meet on Tuesday evenings in the Lower Vestry House of St. George’s Church in Bloomsbury. It is called the Greater London Chess Club, not the Central London Chess Club, and its members are charming and gracious to a fault. Deepest apologies to the management of Villa Romana in Saint-Tropez for carrying out an assassination on their doorstep, but I’m afraid it had to be done. Also, apologies to the residents of the lovely Bristol Mews in Maida Vale for placing a Russian defector in their midst. Were the author ever to go into hiding in London, it would certainly be there. Readers should not go looking for Gabriel Allon at No. 16 Narkiss Street in Jerusalem or for Viktor Orlov at No. 43 Cheyne Walk in Chelsea. Nor should they read too much into my use of a poison-dispensing ring, though I suspect the KGB and its successors probably have one.

The Great Terror killing ground discovered at the climax of The Defector is fictitious, but, sadly, the historical circumstances that could have created such a place are not. Precisely how many people were shot to death during the brutal repressions lasting from 1936 to 1938 may never be known. Estimates range from approximately seven hundred thousand to well over a million. Suffice it to say the number of those executed is but one measure of the suffering Stalin inflicted on Russia during the time of the Great Terror. Historian Robert Conquest estimates that the purges and Stalin-induced famines probably claimed between eleven million and thirteen million lives. Other historians place the number even higher. And still opinion polls consistently find that Stalin remains highly popular among Russians to this day.

One of the few sites where Russians can mourn Stalin’s victims is Butovo, just south of Moscow. There, from August 1937 to October 1938, an estimated twenty thousand people were shot in the back of the head and buried in long mass graves. I visited the recently opened memorial at Butovo with my family in the summer of 2007 while researching Moscow Rules, and in large measure it inspired The Defector. One question haunted me as I walked slowly past the burial trenches, accompanied by weeping Russian citizens. Why are there not more places like this? Places where ordinary Russians can see evidence of Stalin’s unimaginable crimes with their own eyes. The answer, of course, is that the rulers of the New Russia are not terribly interested in exposing the sins of the Soviet past. On the contrary, they are engaged in a carefully orchestrated endeavor to airbrush away its most repulsive aspects while celebrating its achievements. One can understand their motives. The NKVD, which carried out the Great Terror at Stalin’s behest, was the forerunner of the KGB. And former officers of the KGB, including Vladimir Putin himself, are now running Russia.

There is a danger to such historical myopia, of course: the danger that it might happen again. In smaller, far more subtle ways, it already is. Since coming to power in 1999, Vladimir Putin, Russia’s former president and now prime minister, has overseen a wide-ranging curtailment of press and civic freedoms. And in December 2008 the government introduced new legislation that would greatly expand the definition of “state treason.” Human rights activists, already on shaky ground, fear the laws could be used to jail anyone who dares to criticize the regime. Andrei Lugovoi, the former KGB officer accused by British authorities of the November 2006 poisoning of the dissident defector Alexander Litvinenko, apparently feels the new law does not go far enough. Now a member of parliament, and a hero to many Russians, he told the Spanish newspaper El País that anyone who dares to criticize Russia “should be exterminated.”

Lugovoi went on to say: “Do I think someone should have killed Litvinenko in the interests of the Russian state? If you’re talking about the interests of the Russian state, in the purest sense of the word, I myself would have given that order.” This from the man wanted by British authorities for the very same murder of which he speaks.

For those who dare to question the Kremlin and Russia’s powerful elite, arrest and prosecution are sometimes the least of their worries. Too many have simply been killed in cold blood. Witness the case of Stanislav Markelov, the crusading human rights lawyer and social justice activist, gunned down on a central Moscow street in January 2009 as he was leaving a news conference. Also killed was Anastasia Baburova, a freelance journalist for Novaya Gazeta—tragically, the same publication that employed Anna Politkovskaya, who was shot to death in the elevator of her Moscow apartment house in October 2006.

According to the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists, forty-nine media professionals have been killed in Russia since 1992. Only in Iraq and Algeria have more died in the line of duty during the same period. This, too, is a Russian tragedy.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, I am deeply indebted to my dear friend David Bull, who truly is among the finest art restorers in the world. Each year, David gives up many hours of his extremely valuable time to peer over my shoulder, and Gabriel’s, to make certain we are doing our jobs correctly. His wisdom is exceeded only by the pleasure of his company.

I consulted hundreds of books, newspaper and magazine articles, and websites while preparing this manuscript, far too many to name here, but I would be remiss if I did not mention several important works: The Terminal Spy by Alan S. Cowell, The New Cold War by Edward Lucas, Stalin: A Biography by Robert Service, Stalin by Edvard Radzinsky, and Comrade J by Pete Earley.

Several Israeli and American intelligence officers spoke to me on background while I was preparing this manuscript, and I thank them now in anonymity, which is how they would prefer it. Aaron Nutter generously shared stories of his time at the White House Office of Presidential Advance and, along with the other members of Peloton One, was great company on Saturday and Sunday mornings. The eminent Washington orthopedist Dr. Benjamin Shaffer advised me on bullet wounds and infection. Dr. Andrew Pate, the renowned anesthesiologist of Charleston, South Carolina, explained the harmful effects of sedatives on pregnant women.

My dear friend Louis Toscano has been improving my writing since we worked together at the venerable United Press International late in the last century, and The Defector was made far better by his sure hand. My copy editors, Tony Davis and Kathy Crosby, spared me much embarrassment, while Olga Gardner Galvin scrutinized my use of Russian words. Obviously, responsibility for any mistakes or typographical errors that find their way into the finished book falls on my shoulders, not theirs.

A heartfelt thanks to my remarkable publishing team, especially John Makinson, David Shanks, Marilyn Ducksworth, Neil Nyren, Leslie Gelbman, Kara Welsh, Kate Stark, Dick Heffernan, Norman Lidofsky, Alex Clarke, and Putnam’s president, Ivan Held. Since Ivan Kharkov is now dead, Ivan Held can once again have his name to himself. Also, I wish to extend my thanks to the members of the best publicity team in the business: Stephanie Sorensen, Katie McKee, Victoria Comella, Stephany Perez, Sa mantha Wolf, and Eliisa Frazier.

We are blessed with many friends who fill our lives with love and laughter at critical junctures during the writing year, especially Linda Rappaport and Len Chazen, Roger and Laura Cressey, Jane and Rob Lynch, Sue and Fred Kobak and their amazing family, and Joy and Jim Zorn. Jeff Zucker, Ron Meyer, and Michael Gendler offered friendship and support, while Rabbi David J. Wolpe, author of Why Faith Matters, helped me through a particularly difficult day of writing with his humor and grace. A special thanks to Sloan Harris for his professionalism, enthusiasm, and insightful suggestions, and to Marisa Ryan for casting her gifted eye over The Defector’s cover.

In the course of writing twelve novels, I have found I lean hardest on those at home. This book truly could not have been written without the assistance of my children, Nicholas and Lily. Not only did they help assemble the final manuscript, but they gave me unconditional love and support while I was struggling to make my deadline. Finally, I must thank my wife, Jamie Gangel. In addition to managing my business, running our household, and raising two remarkable children, she also found time to brilliantly edit each of my drafts. Were it not for her forbearance, support, and attention to detail, The Defector would not have been completed. My debt to her is immeasurable, as is my love.