“So you have seen it?”
“Wait, you said it was the known recordoutsidethe Kremlin. Are you saying that the Kremlin already has it? Since when?”
“You really don’t know? This is not some list of any old CIA personnel. This is list oftraitorsin the CIA, the American government. Americans who are bribed, blackmailed to tell things to Russia. It cameout ofthe Kremlin. Far as we know, our friend there wrote it on piece of paper, and gave to Nika with kompromat, and then it all vanished before she handed it to CIA. Our friend in Kremlin, sadly… He disappeared. Hewasdisappeared. Thenshedisappeared. We thought same thing happened to her.”
“But there are so many names on the list. The deputy director of the CIA is on that list. You’re saying they were all giving information to Russia? But Nika wrote…” Alice trailed off.
“Nika wrote what?”
“Oh shit. Nika wrote in the book about our heroine having a list of ‘CIA spies.’ ‘American assets.’ You’re saying she meant they were spies forRussia?”
“Yes, exactly. This is I guess why Nika had to leave Moscow so quickly. She saw list and went, ‘Whoa!’”
“Not because her name wasonthe list,” Alice said, the pieces slotting together in her brain, “but because she found out what the list really was. All those names—she must have realized how much danger she was in. With that level of infiltration, it had to be a matter of time before she was exposed.”
“Oh, they were already onto her. She was clever to get out when she did. But she was always clever. And this is also why we are in danger. Why Carter is in so much danger. Every person on list, every person who has been turned by the Russians, wants that list destroyed, and kompromat too. And would like us destroyed. Where is all this now?”
“Uh.”
“Listen, Alisa. I have lost friends to death or imprisonment because of people on this list. I had to leave behind the only woman I’ve ever loved because of people on this list. More people will die unless the people on this list are stopped. Please, Alisa.”
“Alisa. That’s what Nika sometimes called me.”
“It is also my sister’s name. The Russian name for ‘Alice.’ I have not seen her for such long time.”
“Does she think you’re dead too?”
“Everybody from my old life does. That is hardest thing. That is why I need things to change. I would like to see Alisa again—my Alisa. I used to do everything in hope to see Nika again too. Now I do it for others who cannot see people they love, cannot hug them. For others with courage to stand up for what is right. As Nika was dying there right in front of me, I held her little cold hand and vowed I would keep fighting. Ah, but those words she said to me at the end… A dagger, right here.” He jabbed the fingertips of both hands into the center of his chest. “In the shadows live regrets, Alisa.”
“She loved you. The passages in the book, when the heroine was mourning her fiancé—Nika cried as she wrote them. Sobbed. I thought she must be channelingsomethingfrom her past. I didn’t realize…”
“Every day I dreamed of seeing her again. Some people believe in finding love twice, Alisa, but not me. For me, Nika was for life.” He sniffed, loudly. “I saw you kiss him, your CIA man, this Carter, when he dropped you off.”
“You were watching?”
“We had tip-off that FBI were expecting you there. I was going to warn him when they came but too late.”
“I spotted your driver in the hospital. I thought I was going crazy.”
“Easy to go crazy in this wilderness of mirrors. But yes, that was us. You are hard woman to find. And then you come and lean against our van! We can’t believe it. For a minute we don’t know what to do. Please, Alisa, you don’t want to live with the regrets I do. Help me to help you to help him. You don’t want to wonder forever if you could do things differently.”
“Yuri—you and your friends would be able to translate Russian text into English, right?”
“Certainly, we can try. What does this mean? You have something? Please, you don’t want to be haunted. ‘Drop dead, drop dead, drop dead.’ Ugh. I’ve never told anyone about this before. It haunts me, every day.”
“Wait. She was just saying that, over and over?”
“It was like she didn’t have any other words left. She used her last strength to curse me.”
“So: ‘Drop dead, drop dead, drop dead.’”
“Dear God, don’t remind me.”
“Or could it have been: ‘Dead drop, dead drop, dead drop’?”
“What?”
“Yuri, she wasn’t telling you to drop dead. She was giving you a message. ‘Dead drop.’ It’s what they call a place where an informant will leave something—a message, some intel.”
