Matthew Dunn - Slingshot

“No. But you know that Yevtushenko’s the load. A dead load if nothing is done to help him. You choose: swan, pike, or crab?”

She stared at him, for the first time the tiniest hint of confusion on her face.

“ Please. Do sit down Miss Petrova.”

She sat. “Which are you?”

“It’s irrelevant. We’re all stupid without cohesive direction. Your direction.”

“My direction?”

“Yes. I want you to choose to work with one of us and tell us what to do.” Will wondered how Alina was going to respond.

She said nothing for ten seconds. Then, “How can I trust you?”

“I can’t persuade you to trust me. Use your judgment. Judge me alongside the Russians you met, and the men who now have Lenka.”

“Who are those men?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do the Russians know?”

“I’m not sure, but I think they might.”

“Then the choice is clear. I should work with the Russians!”

“Perhaps you should. Providing you trust them.”

Alina’s eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. She seemed to make some kind of decision. “Our child is called Maria. We named her after Lenka’s grandmother.” She leaned forward, her expression stern. “Lenka was delighted when I told him that I was bearing his child. I’ve never been with another man since I’ve known him.”

Will nodded, and for the briefest of moments wondered how it would feel to hear a woman declare that she was pregnant with his child. “Tell me about the Russians who came here.”

Alina drummed fingers on the sofa, seemed deep in thought, and also looked scared.

“It’s vital that you tell me everything.”

She stopped drumming. “There was only one of them.”

“Man or woman?”

“A man.”

“Name? Appearance?”

“Mikhail. He didn’t give me a surname.” She smiled, though her fear remained evident. “Mid-thirties, I’d guess. Tall, short hair, muscular build. Immaculately dressed. Other than the fact that his hair was blond, he looked a lot like you.”

And a lot like the man Will had seen firing a big handgun on the bridge in Gdansk.

Will felt a moment of unease. “What did he say to you?”

Her smile vanished. “He asked me if I knew the identity of the man who’d told Lenka to abscond. I told him the truth: that I didn’t.”

“Was that the truth?”

“Yes.” Alina frowned. “Lenka was always a private man. Whenever he was with me, he’d prefer to talk about anything other than his work. I think his job sometimes embarrassed him.”

“You knew he was an intelligence officer?”

She answered in a whisper, “He wasn’t supposed to tell me, but he said he didn’t want there to be secrets between us.”

“Do you think he was cut out for the job?”

“I don’t think so.” She exhaled slowly. “We made plans. He was going to leave and come here to live with us. He said he’d apply for a job at the university.”

“What else did Mikhail say?”

Alina lowered her head. “He asked me the same thing you did-if I’d been in contact with Lenka during the last few days. I told him that I hadn’t.”

“And was that the truth?”

She was motionless, silent.

“What else?”

“He noticed the things you’d observed; the things Lenka had bought for me. He said that Lenka must have had another source of income, that no doubt he was being paid by the man who’d got him out of Russia.” She shook her head, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. Mikhail said that Lenka willingly absconded from Russia. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

She was now visibly upset. “But why? It’s so unlike him to do something like that. And he’s left a mess.” She swept an arm through the air. “As well as buying me things, during the last few years he’s also been contributing to the rent on this place and to the upbringing of Maria. He’s always been a good man. Always putting himself second, us first. But now he’s gone, and there’s no money.” She shook her head, her posture and expression strengthening. “Don’t misinterpret what I’ve just said. I’d rather have him back with no money than the opposite.”

Will leaned closer to her, and spoke with genuine sympathy. “I don’t doubt that. It’s obvious to me that you love him. Don’t be hard on him. He’s done something stupid, and though I don’t know why he’s done that, I’m sure it was for honorable reasons. Reasons to do with you and Maria.”

Alina seemed to be digesting Will’s observation. “I believe you’re right.” She glanced in the direction of Maria’s bedroom. The child was no longer crying and instead was emitting unintelligible words in between giggles. “She’s not frightened of you anymore.” Returning her attention to Will, she said, “The swan, the pike, or the crab.”

Will was silent. He had to let her come to her own conclusions.

“The Russian man. He scared me at first. But then I saw kindness. And you’re right. When I asked him what the Russians would do to Lenka if they found him, Mikhail said that he couldn’t lie to me, that Lenka would face imprisonment, but that incarceration would be a better fate than death by the hands of the men he’s with.” She nodded. “He seemed a good man. What differentiates the two of you is that he has no choice other than to deliver Lenka to jail, but you seem to have no such ambitions.” She frowned. “What has Lenka done?”

“He’s stolen a piece of paper from the SVR. I don’t know anything about the paper, other than it is of immense value and is extremely dangerous. Does that mean anything to you?”

Quietly, she answered, “No. Nothing.” She suddenly placed her head in her hands, rocked back and forth, and muttered, “Shit, shit.”

Will frowned.

“I wish you’d come earlier.”

She continued rocking, then removed her hands and looked up with an expression of exasperation. “There’s not just three of you involved.”

“What?”

Placing her nails to her teeth, she said, “Yesterday, I was approached on the street by a man. He gave me a note and asked me to read it and relay its message to Lenka. I took the note home and did precisely what the man asked me to do.”

Will’s mind raced. “Nationality of the man?”

“I could tell from his accent that he was foreign, but other than that I don’t know. He spoke to me in Belarusian. Looked European.”

“How did you communicate the message to Lenka?”

More tears rolled down Alina’s face. “He has a cell phone that only I know about. I sent an SMS to it.”

“Has he replied?”

“No.”

“Are you convinced he has the phone with him?”

“Yes. He told me that if he called me or messaged me from that number, then I could be sure that no one was listening or intercepting the message. He called it his ‘safe phone.’ It was his lifeline to me. He’ll have it.”

“And the note?”

Alina momentarily closed her eyes. “Does the name Will Cochrane mean anything to you?”

Will’s stomach knotted.

She opened her eyes. “Are you Will Cochrane?”

Will was motionless, determined not to betray any emotion, though confusion overwhelmed him.

“If you want to see the note, I have to know.”

Still, Will said nothing.

“I think I have made my decision, based on my judgment of you. But I can’t be sure unless you answer me.”

Oh dear God. Will had no idea what to say or do.

“It’s time for you to make a judgment about me and to choose.”

He stared at Alina. She seemed imploring, earnest, scared, confused. She seemed to be speaking honestly.