"What?"
"Keep your heads down."
Nina poured the premier a glass of vodka and herself a glass of white wine, then sat facing him across the kitchen table.
"This is bad," she said.
He shrugged. "Three ambassadors of ours have been killed. I am supposed to be next."
"Who is supposed to kill you?"
"No one knows. A secret American spy."
She clinked glasses with him and he drank deeply from his water glass.
"It is bad," she said.
"Things have been bad before," he said. He slumped back in the chair and looked around the kitchen. "Things were bad when we bought this house. We did not know if we would live or die. I lost my place in the Politburo in one of the purges. Still you managed to make do."
"We always did."
"No," he corrected. "You always did." He reached across the table and touched her hand.
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"Without a job, you fed us. When I had no money, somehow you furnished this house and made it home for us. When I had no prospects, you made sure that I always wore new clothes and shiny shoes."
"So what did you expect?" Nina asked with a smile that illuminated her face and showed off her once-upon-a-time beauty. "Some kind of American wife that if you want a piece of bread toasted, you have to go out and buy her two new machines? And a lifetime membership in cooking school?"
"No. You are not that," the premier said. "You could always make do. You even had meat on the table when no one else had meat. How do you do it?"
"I'm really the Grand Duchess Anastasia in disguise and I pawned the czar's jewels," she said.
"You couldn't be Anastasia," he said.
"Why not?"
"You're too good a Communist. Besides, you're beautiful and Anastasia looked like the bottom of a boot."
She was about to answer when the telephone on the wall, next to the oven, rang. The premier reached a lazy hand for it but General Arkov burst into the room and took the telephone himself. He inspected the instrument and held the receiver to his ear for a moment, while the premier saw the look of disgust on Nina's face and tried to stop himself from laughing. Finally, Arkov handed him the telephone.
"It's Colonel Karbenko," he said. "His call is
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being scrambled at both ends and transferred here from your office. You can speak freely."
"Thank you, Arkov," the premier said. "Hello, Vassily, how are you? How are the cattle when you're riding the range?"
The premier listened for a moment, then said, "Don't tell me you're worried, too, Vassily."
He held the telephone away from his ear so that Nina could hear the young spy's voice from America.
"Yes, Comrade. But I think I have a way to insure your safety and..."
"And?"
"And if that fails, it will solve our political problem of attacking the Americans."
"What is it, Vassily? Anything is better than having these KGB men inside my hat." General Arkov winced and the premier smiled. Although Arkov was Karbenko's superior in the KGB, Kar-benko had much greater political support among the country's top leaders, because of his friendship with the premier, and while Arkov could dislike him, he could do very little else.
"This is the idea, Premier. Do not put the blame for the deaths of these ambassadors on the Americans. Instead, announce that you are coming to America immediately to discuss the killings with the American President. That puts the blame on them without putting the blame on them."
"And what does that have to do with my safety?" the premier asked.
"It is simple, sir. You will come alone. It would seem that the CIA assassin, whoever he might be,
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is someone close to you. So you come alone. The assassin does not accompany you. You can spend time in America while we track down the assassin."
"And suppose I am . . . what do you cowboys say, rubbed out in America?"
"That's gangsters, premier, not cowboys. But if you're gunned down, then America clearly bears the responsibility for it and our government will do whatever it has to do. But there is much less chance of that happening here than there. Even in your own house, you might not be safe."
"I know it," the premier said. "I expect Arkov's men to come in any minute and start chewing on my shoes. Come alone, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"What about Arkov?"
"Alone, Comrade," Karbenko insisted.
"I think you're right," the premier said. "I think it's a marvelous idea. I will see you very soon."
He hung up the telephone. "You will be happy to learn, Arkov, that I am going to America to try to flee this assassin."
"The United States?" Arkov said. "You will be a target there for every lunatic."
"I will take my chances. I am going to America."
"I will get ready," Arkov said.
"No, General. I am going alone."
Arkov opened his mouth to argue. The premier's brows dropped, and his expression frosted over, and the KGB chief stopped.