After the past few days, she’d gladly bear that weight.
By the time she reached the embassy, it had emptied out for the day. She’d missed a full day of work. No matter. Tanya smiled wearily as she made her way down the concrete steps to the vault. She still had a report to write.
• • •
Frank stared out his narrow office window into the embassy courtyard. Steam drifted from his coffee mug.
“I can’t say I’m happy to hear any of this.”
A file lay open on his desk: close-typed pages stamped top secret, and a black-and-white photograph of a wreck only a professional could identify as a crashed cargo plane.
“They found the plane in Germany, which wasn’t on the flight plan.” Frank set his coffee on the windowsill and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket. He lit the cigarette and drew a breath. “Nobody knows why Dom turned. Langley says he was a model agent. Impeccable credentials. No one knows how he got this far down the road. No one even knows why. Sokolov was a fine asset for us, a nice grab, but he wouldn’t have won us the war. From a Soviet perspective, Dom was a much higher-value asset. So: Sokolov was more valuable than we knew. Or Dom had overplayed himself somehow, would have been found out soon, wanted to take as high-value a play as he could get. Or he wasn’t working for the Soviets, and planned to go solo. Too damn many questions, and I don’t like any of the answers the eggheads back home keep pushing my way.” He tipped ash into an ashtray. “And then there’s Gabe.”
The overhead light painted the bare walls green. Somewhere in the world outside Frank’s office, typewriter keys hammered against paper.
Frank shook his head. “I can’t believe any of it. He’s a sharp agent. He’s had his knocks, sure. Cairo hit him hard, and I’ve been riding him even harder to get him to shape up. But he’s a clean, good worker, and he’s had a thousand chances to betray us if he’s had one. So. I don’t like your tale. I don’t like hearing it so soon after Dom. I feel like there’s another game running next to ours, or on top of it—which I wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t suddenly started moving pieces that matter to me, and to the United States of America. I don’t like being pulled into games I don’t play.” He turned from the window. “Thank you for coming to me with this, Toms.”
Josh kept still. He’d spent all his conviction telling the story. Now, having spoken, he felt alone. “I didn’t know where else to turn, sir,” Josh said.
• • •
Tanya had already fed a fresh sheet of paper into her typewriter when she noticed the thin strip of light beneath Chief Komyetski’s office door. Her fingers froze, hovering over the keys, as panic clenched around her heart. He’d sent her to her death. Whether he knew of her connection to the Ice or not, he’d tried to murder her. And he’d been working with the American Flame man all along.
But she was done with hiding. From the KGB chief, and from the Flame.
Tanya squeezed the crystal paperweight on her desk, then stood. Her stool gave a faint metal groan as she tucked it away.
Sasha’s back was to her; he was resetting a chessboard to its starting position in one corner of the room. Several of his games had been reset, in fact. She tucked that little detail away for later.
“Tanya. My dear girl.” Sasha turned toward her with a hideous smile pressed firmly in place. He was no happier about this than she was. “I was horrified to learn that those capitalist fiends shot at you. And poor Sergei, Yuri . . .” His whole face sagged with sorrow, as subtle as a Kabuki mask.
“Do not be sad, comrade. We will find a way to make the Americans pay.”
“Indeed we shall.” His gaze sparkled in the harsh fluorescent light. “I am working with Lubyanka on several ideas this very moment, in fact. But you!” He wagged one finger at her. “You should not be working so hard. Take a week off, Tanushka. I insist on it. Rest. Clear your mind of this dreadful ordeal.”
“But sir—the paperwork.”
“Bah, the paperwork can wait.” He waved her toward the door. “Go. Rest.”
Tanya had no doubt there was some ulterior motive in his desire to send her away, but she was too weary to puzzle it out just now. She could use the rest. Rest . . . and time to regroup and plan. How she wished she could speak to her grandfather again, or even his construct in the radio. Someone who could guide her through whatever came next.
Open warfare with the Acolytes of Flame? No—Prague was not a place for open battle. They would continue as they had been, with feints and stabs in the shadows. But Tanya had no doubt that there were far greater dangers lurking right around the corner. There was a larger web being spun around her, and Chief Komyetski was only one spider waiting for her to be caught.
But at least she saw the web, now. Now she could begin to tear it down.
“Actually, comrade . . .”
She gestured toward the chessboard that Sasha had just arranged, then sank into the chair before it. White. In spells, it was a purifying color. In some cultures, though, it was the color of death. She plucked up a pawn and rubbed it between her fingers.
“I think I’d like to play a game.”
Up Next
The Witch Who Came In From the Cold
Will Return 2017
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Writer Team
Lindsay Smith is the author of the YA espionage thrillers Sekret, Skandal, and Dreamstrider, all from Macmillan Children’s. She lives in Washington, DC, with her husband and dog, where she writes on international issues in cyber security. LindsaySmith.net. @LindsaySmithDC.
Max Gladstone has been thrown from a horse in Mongolia, drank almond milk with monks on Wudang Shan, and wrecked a bicycle in Angkor Wat. Max is also the author of the Craft Sequence of books about undead gods and skeletal law wizards—Full Fathom Five, Three Parts Dead, Two Serpents Rise, and Last First Snow. Max fools everyone by actually writing novels in the coffee shops of Davis Square in Somerville, MA. His dreams are much nicer than you’d expect. MaxGladstone.com. @maxgladstone.
Ian Tregillis is the son of a bearded mountebank and a discredited tarot card reader. He is the author of the Milkweed Triptych, Something More than Night, and the Alchemy Wars trilogy. His most current novel is The Rising (Alchemy Wars #2). His short fiction has appeared at numerous venues including Tor.com, Fantasy & Science Fiction, and Popular Science. He lives in New Mexico, where he consorts with writers, scientists, and other disreputable types. IanTregillis.com. @ITregillis.
Michael Swanwick (guest author) has received the Nebula, Theodore Sturgeon, World Fantasy and Hugo Awards. He has written nine novels, 150 short stories, and countless flash fictions. His latest novel, Chasing the Phoenix, is available from Tor Books. FloggingBabel.blogspot.com.
Cassandra Rose Clarke grew up in south Texas and currently lives in a suburb of Houston, where she writes and teaches composition at a pair of local colleges. She holds an M.A. in creative writing from The University of Texas at Austin, and in 2010 she attended the Clarion West Writer’s Workshop in Seattle. Her work has been nominated for the Philip K. Dick Award and YALSA’s Best Fiction for Young Adults. Her latest novel is Our Lady of the Ice, out now from Saga Press. CassandraRoseClark.com. @mitochondrial.
Table of Contents
Episode 8: Cover the Silence by Cassandra Rose Clarke
Episode 9: Head Case by Max Gladstone
Episode 10: ANCHISES by Lindsay Smith
Episode 11: King’s Gambit Accepted by Ian Tregillis
Episode 12: She’ll Lie Down in the Snow by Cassandra Rose Clarke
Episode 13: Company Time by Max Gladstone and Lindsay Smith
Up Next
The Witch Who
Came In From the Cold
Will Return 2017
Writer Team
The Witch Who Came in From the Cold - Season One Volume Two Page 23
