Red Sparrow

“Of course we did, Stephanie, but I insist that you reconsider. To start, we have to meet in more private locations, out of the public eye. In addition, the frequency of these personal meetings must also be reduced in favor of impersonal communications.” Golov looked into Boucher’s narrowing eyes.

“Listen, Anatoly, I told you before. I’m not going to root around under some infested tree stump in Great Falls Park at midnight looking for a package from you. I’m not going to accept one of your clunky transmitters that will start smoking in my purse and set off the alarms in the Dirksen Building.” She held up a hand. “Don’t tell me about your technology, I know all about spy gear. Your Russian gadgets aren’t half as good as ours.” Boucher bared her teeth. “And I emphatically am not going to begin meeting with some first-tour officer from Abkhazia with manure on his shoes.” Before her SVR briefings, the senator did not know that Abkhazia existed, much less where it was located. “Why do we keep having this discussion?”

Golov knew how to handle agents, but this was different than any other case he had run, ever. He knew Egorov in Moscow was nervous about security. Golov was nervous as well. But to slow the operational tempo when the intelligence was so spectacular was not possible. “Stephanie, I understand how difficult all these precautions are. Let’s agree to this: You and I will continue to meet. If you agree, I will arrange for hotel rooms outside Washington for our meetings. Because we will have lots of time, I suggest we meet less frequently. This will be a lot safer.”

“Outside Washington?” said Boucher. “Are you serious? It’s hard enough to get a free night in town. You expect me to get away from my staff, my schedule, and drive to a ridiculous rural Sheraton off the highway to huddle with you over a bag of chips? Like where, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Richmond? That’s not going to happen, Anatoly, not even close.”

Golov looked at SWAN smoothly. He was not going to insist on anything. This case was too big. He smiled at her. “Stephanie, you are too logical. Observant. Practical. I ask you to agree on one element. Let us continue, but not in public. Every month we will meet in a Washington hotel. In a suite. At your convenience. Even this little place has rooms, but they are small. We will innovate, accommodate, be flexible. Your safety is my only concern.”

Senator Boucher, distracted, nodded. “All right, but let’s start with a room here. This little inn does something for me, I don’t know.” She looked over at Golov and inclined forward so he could light another cigarette. Golov summoned thirty years of discipline to hide his revulsion. “Oh, and Anatoly,” she said, “I still want the number to my account in Liechtenstein. Ask them to pass it along.”

“Stephanie, we have discussed this subject also, several times. It is against Center procedure to grant access to this account. The sole consideration is your security. Believe me, the money is there, the deposits all have been made. You have seen the balance figures.”

“Anatoly, you’re a dear man,” said Boucher. “But would you mind very much if I play the prima donna and insist? Humor me.” Boucher got up and dropped her cigarette into her whiskey. Golov rose from his seat and wished her good night. As she turned to leave, Boucher reached into her purse, took out a disc in a black paper sleeve, and flipped it casually on the table. “Minutes of a committee hearing last week about Pathfinder,” she said. “I was going to keep it until your pals in Moscow paid up, but I like you too much, Anatoly. Good night.”

He watched her march into the hotel, her blond hair swaying with her stride. Golov casually put the disc into his suit coat pocket and sat down at the table. The garden was empty and quiet. He ordered a brandy and began composing the cable to Egorov in his head.

GOLOV’S EGG-LEMON LAMB STEW

Vigorously brown cubed chunks of lamb with diced bacon and onions; moisten with white wine and stock, season with salt, pepper, and nutmeg, and simmer for one hour. Remove lamb chunks. Beat lemon juice, egg yolks, and minced garlic, and whisk vigorously into stock without boiling. Season egg-lemon sauce again with salt, pepper, and nutmeg, and pour over lamb garnished with finely julienned lemon zest.

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