“No questions asked,” Nick said. “I’m not supposed to know what’s going on. You said last night you had something valuable. What? Or am I not supposed to know that either?”
“It would be better.”
“No. I need to know what you’re doing. What I’m doing. You need to trust me. I’m not just a messenger.”
“No,” his father said. “You’re the key to everything.”
Nick stared at him.
“Listen to me, Nick. They’re not going to accuse me of anything. Not some old crime.” He glanced up. “Which I didn’t commit. They’re going to ask for me.”
“They’re what?”
“How else do you think this can work? A rescue mission to smuggle me out? I’m not worth an international incident. The Americans would never do that. It has to be a trade, a quiet trade. I can’t escape-think what that would mean for Anna. I have to go legally. A plane from Ruzyne. With the comrades waving.”
“What’s the trade?”
“They can offer Pentiakowsky, a prize catch. For one broken-down defector. Do you think Moscow would resist such a deal?”
“Why would they do that?” Nick said, trying to follow the thread. “Why would they ask for you in the first place?”
“Because you asked. You and your mother. A humanitarian request. You came to see me-I know, all this secrecy, but that’s only for now, until we’re ready. Once the arrangements start, it’s in their interest to protect me. They’ll have to know you were here so the story makes sense. There’s always the personal element, even in politics. You were shocked by what you saw. My health. I need an operation. That’s true, by the way, I do. They know that. I can’t get it here. So the trip would have a certain appeal, even to a dedicated old socialist. How we cling to life. So you appealed to your father, the other one. A man close to the President.”
“What?”
“Yes, to Larry. No one else. He can make the deal, arrange things. I’ll tell you what to say.”
The surprise of it made Nick feel giddy, as if a missed step were pitching him farther down. “Larry,” he said, trying to catch himself. “Why Larry?”
“Because he can do it. Arrange things. And he’ll believe you. He’ll know it’s not a trick.”
“No,” Nick said quickly, not wanting to hear the rest. “You don’t know what you’re asking. He can’t.” Isn’t it enough to involve me? He saw the mad plan spreading like a stain, touching everybody.
“I know what I’m asking. Do you think I would ask him if I didn’t have to? He took my family.” An edge, finally, in his calm voice, a bitterness not quite put away. “But now that’s an advantage. He owes me this much. One favor. He’ll do it.” He paused. “He’ll do it for you.”
And I’ll do it for you. A link snapping shut in a chain. Every link already assigned.
“It’s the right story,” his father continued, not seeing Nick’s face fall. “Pentiakowsky for an old spy? Never. But I’m not just an old spy. I have friends in high places.” He stopped. “A son in high places. Lucky for me, but even luckier for Moscow. To get Pentiakowsky back for a political favor? A stupid trade-but Americans can be stupid that way. Sentimental.” He looked at Nick. “They’ll believe you. Not just a messenger, you see. There is no story without you.”
Nick looked at the ground, feeling his chest tighten, his breath grow short. “You have it all worked out,” he said, thinking, all of us, he’ll use all of us. “What makes you think Larry will do it?”
“He wouldn’t. He’s not sentimental. Or his boss. It’s only the story, Nick. For Moscow. The truth is that I have to give them something.”
“Something valuable.”
His father nodded. “More valuable than Pentiakowsky. Then they’ll do it. It’s the only way.”
“Then why would Moscow let you go?”
“They don’t know I have it. They’ll be suspicious-that’s their nature-but they won’t know. There’s no trace-I’ve been careful. No one knows. Only you.”
“Not yet.”
“No, not yet.”
Nick waited, his silence an unspoken demand. His father looked back toward the open square, then wet his lips, an old man’s nervous gesture.
“I’m going to give them what they always wanted. Names. In America. I have a list. And documents.” He saw the dismay in Nick’s face. “I have to pay, Nick. You don’t get a fatted calf, not in real life. What else do I have?”
“And what happens to them, the people on your list?”
His father shrugged. “They’ll be replaced. Then it begins all over again. But meanwhile-”
“You get Silver,” Nick finished.
His father shook his head. “Not yet. But they can lead me to him. One of them. There’s a pattern, you see. People don’t change. There’s always a pattern if you can find it.”
“And you did.”
“I think so.” His father looked at him carefully, then said, “You disapprove.”
“They’re your people.”
“My people,” he said, almost scornfully. “Yes. Agents expect it, you know, sooner or later. Somebody always gives it away. What do you want me to say, Nick? That it’s not a dirty business?” He looked away. “It never seems so in the beginning. You just think you’re doing the right thing, like a soldier. But in the end-”
His voice drifted and Nick followed it down the gray street, unable to look at him.
