Part 57 (2/2)

Now he sounded like Maluta. ”Trust me. You don't.”

”How did you get these? Steal them?”

”Hardly,” she said, taking possession of the bulky, beribboned box. ”He gave them to me.”

”Something serious had to have happened for Maluta to just hand them over to you.”

”He thinks I'm cute.”

”Daniella!” He went after her as she began to walk away. ”He hates your guts.”

She said nothing.

He took her elbow, turned her to face him. The crush of shoppers pushed them quite close and Daniella was obliged to switch the package from one arm to another. ”I want to know.”

”Why?” Abruptly she felt put upon. ”Why must you know everything? Do you tell me everything?”

”Yes. Of course.”

”You're a liar,” she said hotly. ”How do you expect me to put my trust in a liar.”

”I don't understand.”

She put her head closer to his. ”I know, Mikhail. Do you understand? I know who you are,”

”What are you talking about?”

”Stop it,” she snapped. ”Let's get out of here.” Abruptly, the huge store with its surging crowds was making her feel claustrophobic.

She took him to the Hermitage Garden along Karetny Ryad because it was less crowded than Gorky Park at this time of the year. She had had enough of crowds.

They sat on a wood-and-ironwork bench near the open-air puppet theater. It was near dinnertime. Gray squirrels scampered down the boles of oak and beech trees to sit near them, hoping for sc.r.a.ps. Nearby, pigeons waddled, pecking now and again at nothing at all.

The sound of children's laughter was strong on the air and, unconsciously, Daniella touched the firm roundness of her lower belly, imagining the little life growing there. She had almost broken down and cried at Children's World. All the toys, all the children running, pointing, laughing, wanting. She felt a longing deep inside her.

Large, fleecy clouds drifted above their heads and there was only the occasional rumble of the large diesel trucks. ”What will you do now that you know?” He did not look at her.

”I want you to understand something, Mikhail,” she said deliberately. ”Maluta is no longer a factor in anything I do or say.”

He looked at her. ”Do I have to guess at what that means?”

”I think you already know,” she said simply.

”How did you find out about me?”

”Mitre signaled me.” He knew that Mitre was her code name for Sir John Bluestone. There was no reason not to tell him now. ”You were blown somewhere in Hong Kong.”

A little girl came racing by, her arms stretched out to grab the tail of the dog that raced, barking happily, just in front of her. Her cheeks were red, her eyes wide with delight.

”Tell me,” Carelin said, envying the girl's innocence. ”Do you love me?” His back was ramrod straight. He knew that it would be many years before that girl would have to ask such a question. ”Have you ever loved me?”

”I think,” she said, ”that is a question that we are better off not asking one another.”

”Daniella,” he said seriously, ”I don't believe that I have sinned. It is importantessential, eventhat you understand that.”

”Do you hate Russia so?”

”I hate what Russia does to its people. To all people it comes in contact with. And Russia is what Russia does. We have not come so far from Stalin as we would like to believe. We Russians are very adept at self-deception,”

”No more than any other people, Mikhail.”

”In that, I think you are quite wrong. Our capacity for”

”I will notwill notdebate the morality of this with you,” she said sharply.

”It was my choice, my decision only, and I do not regret it.” He looked away for a moment. ”At least, very little of it.”

”To answer your question, whatever you are has nothing to do with what I feel inside.”

He looked down to see the small-caliber pistol with its silencer pressed against his coat. It was between them. No one could see it but them.

Daniella saw that his expression had grown sad. ”Is this how you disposed of Comrade Maluta?”

”This is the answer, Mikhail,” Daniella said. ”The only answer.” In the corners of her eyes, liquid diamonds danced. ”There are only lies between us. And that's all there ever could have been. Lies are all that are allowed us in our profession. We knew that when we chose to be who we are. Nothing can change that.”

”Are you so certain?” he said.

”I have the power now, Mikhail. What deadly secrets Maluta once possessedwhat made him rich, what made him strongare mine.”

”So that's it,” he said softly. ”You got more than the photos. In the end you got everything.” He watched her eyes for signs of life. And when he was certain that she would give him nothing, he offered her all he had left. ”You may know who I am,” he said, ”but you know nothing of my final directive.” He looked from the pistol she held at his side to her face. It was such a strong face, he thought. And thought again of Circe, the ancient sorceress out of Greek mythology in whose image he felt she had been molded. How well she had manipulated everything and everyone around her, he marveled. ”It was to terminate you, Da.n.u.shka.” He saw the shock forming in her features and pressed home whatever advantage it might have given him. ”What else would Jake Maroc want of me?”

In a moment, he rose. ”Goodbye, Koshka.”

Daniella watched him walk away, wending his way past the running groups of whooping children whose nannies were vainly attempting to gather them up. It was time to go home.

Hours later, she found herself in her office without having any idea of how she had gotten there. She remembered her mother in just such a dazed state after she had been in an auto accident. For a moment Daniella wondered why she had come here instead of to her apartment. Then, as if a veil had lifted from her consciousness, she remembered.

She went to the window and looked out at the night. Stars spangled the heavens. She felt somehow grateful that she was far enough from the center of the city to see those of first magnitude. Below them, the dark ma.s.s of the forest, blacker even than the night sky. Part of her wished that she could lose herself in that stygian maze.

She thought of the onion domes gleaming in the spotlights, the crenellated walls within which crouched, like a savage beast, the power to change the world. Now she had within her grasp the means to tame that beast.

She turned and picked up the phone, spoke into it for some time. She thought she knew in which direction Carelin would choose to flee. He was heading for Hong Kong, after all. That much was obvious. But even if he chose another route, her people would intercept him. She had faith in them.

”One more thing, Lieutenant,” she said into the phone. ”I want the traitor shot on sight. Terminated, do you understand? Terminated.”

At that moment, she felt something that she could not possibly feel: a stirring in her belly. She gave a strangled little cry and put down the phone, feeling as if she had come to the very edge of the world.

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