by J C Ryan
This is bad.
Koslov didn’t have to examine his conscience for anything he’d done wrong—this was about the disastrous end to his team’s Vietnam mission.
But that was hardly my fault. It was the men… That may be so, but you know the adage, you can delegate authority but not responsibility.
Koslov wasn’t entirely innocent, of course. He enjoyed privilege well beyond the average Russian citizen. Part of the ‘new’ Russia, at forty-five-years-old, he was unmarried, wealthy, and able to rely as much on his good looks as his money to support his decadent lifestyle. His light-brown hair hadn’t yet begun to turn gray, and his blue eyes were described as ‘piercing’ by his sycophants and ‘dreamy’ by his paramours.
Deep down, he knew he was nothing more than a pawn in the President’s game of chess, both domestically and internationally. It would be fun while it lasted, and he was intelligent enough to know it wouldn’t last. Someone else, likely an enemy of the current regime, would eventually be in power, and he would be out. But he had contingency plans. When that happened, he’d be comfortably hosted by some other country, courtesy of the money and other assets he embezzled from Russneft and squirreled away regularly.
It was a matter of an hour’s drive from his office to the office of the President, during which Koslov’s apprehension grew. Although the wait in the anteroom outside the president’s office was only fifteen minutes, it felt like many lifetimes before he was ushered into the opulent presidential office.
Surely the President would have kept me waiting longer if he’d been angry?
He was even more relieved when he saw the President’s smile, though something was off about it. It was more the smile of a predator than that of a friend welcoming a friend.
“Fyodor, thank you for coming so promptly,” the President said.
It sounded almost kindly, but Koslov had made his assessment and knew better.
As if I had a choice, he thought.
The smile became even thinner and colder as the President’s voice turned to ice. “Please explain to me what happened in Vietnam. Your report said your men lost Mademoiselle Lemaire. How is this possible?”
Koslov stammered, “As you know from my report, there was an incident, during which a trained special ops agent along with his military dog severely injured one of my men, who sustained brain-damage, he seriously injured another, and killed the woman you detached from the FSB to lead the mission.”
“Ida Sokolovna, one of our most valuable agents.” The President left out the part, and one of my mistresses. “She was only on loan to you, Fyodor. I hold you responsible for her death.”
“But…”
The smile was gone now, replaced by a mask of pure disapproval. The president’s cold stare was fixed on Koslov’s eyes as he said, “Don’t try to deceive me, Fyodor, I’ve read your report and made my own inquiries. Sokolovna was killed by friendly fire. Your man killed her, not some mythical super-agent. I hold you responsible for that, as well as for hiring incompetents in the first place.”
“Yes, Mr. President… I… I… apologize but I… didn’t try to…”
“Fyodor, I’ve decided to give you one more chance to redeem yourself. You will hire a better team to reacquire the target, and I trust I don’t have to stress to you the importance of not making another mess of it?”
“No, Mr. President. I understand I will go to work on it right away. I will not disappoint you, Sir.”
“There will be no more waiting and watching. She is to be taken alive and held until we need to show her to that French upstart. Oh, and do us all a favor. When you find that super-agent, make sure he never becomes a problem again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
As Koslov left the president’s office, he knew two things; one, he was on a very short leash, and two, he had no idea where to start looking for Margot Lemaire. Those were the thoughts that made him shiver as he already felt the cold Siberian wind of the gulags between his shoulder blades. Although those places and facilities apparently didn’t exist anymore, no one who knew what was really going on in Russia would dispute that the FSB was only the new name for the old KGB. Anyone in high positions and even in low positions knew in Russia people still disappeared, just like in the old days—especially those that opposed the President and from time to time also those that disappointed him.
Chapter 48
Mumbai, India
REHKA RETURNED FROM her shopping trip with new clothes, which Margot declared were perfect. There were comfortable clothes for lounging around wherever they decided Margot should go from there, and a couple of fashionable sets of business attire that were cleverly gusseted to accommodate Margot’s soon-to-be expanding baby bump. Margot was now set for anything that might come next. Except that she still looked very much like herself.
“We’re going to have to do something about your looks if you’re going anywhere in Europe,” Rex remarked. It wasn’t the most elegant way to put it, but Margot knew what he meant and took no exception.
“What if I go blonde?” she said.
“I thought that would be an ordeal,” he said. “You said before…”
“Well, it won’t be good for my hair, all that bleaching, and I’ll have to keep it touched up. But I suppose if I also cut it short, it will recover.”
Rehka went online and found a number of sites about the latest hairstyles and showed them to Rex and Margot to look at and pick one while she went back out and bought some hair bleach, a few dyes in blonde shades, haircutting scissors, and a plastic drape to protect Margot’s clothes. When she got back, she said, “Who’s going to do this?”
Rex stepped up. “I’ve cut hair before.”
Both women stared at him in astonishment. “A woman’s hair?” they asked in chorus.
He declined to explain. Grinning, he just said, “Just trust me. Margot, which one of these styles is it going to be? Make your pick, sit back and relax, and let’s see if I can pull it off.”
Margot and Rehka protested as if they were identical twins as they explained that a woman’s hair is not a ‘let’s see if I can pull it off’ matter. A lot of light-hearted bantering followed, but Rex won the argument when he said, “Okay, if any of you clever girls have an option that does not include leaving this apartment, now is the time to tell me.”
In the end, Margot shrugged, sat down, and sighed. “Okay, go for it, just try and keep the damage to a minimum.”
“Well, there is always a way out of it if I do make a mess of it…” Rex said.
“Yeah. Do you care to tell me what that would be?” Margot asked.
“Buzz cut…” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Rowan Donnelly! You’re a dead man if you do that to me.” Margot warned him with a big smile. Amidst a lot of wittiness, hours later, Margot got a glimpse of her new look. Her new haircut was chic, short, and swept forward to change the shape of her face, and her hair was a shade of golden blonde that complemented her tan.
With a very serious face, Rehka said she was so enchanted with Rex’s handiwork she was considering doing that to hers. His look of dismay that she’d cut her long, thick, black hair made her giggle.
Rehka produced the coup de grâce, a pair of oversized glasses with thick, black, plastic frames. The combination completely changed the shape of Margot’s face, and she was certain her own brother wouldn’t know her if he passed her on the street.
For the moment, she agreed with Rex that it was best not to involve Bert.
However, she did want to be near him, if at all possible, without jeopardizing her secrecy. She sensed she’d need his support and the companionship of his wife, her sister-in-law, in years to come to raise the baby without a father. Having considered all the factors and getting Rex’s and Rehka’s input, she decided on Switzerland for her next destination. Geneva was only an hour’s drive from her family estate, close to Lyon.
Rehka researched every birthing facility in Geneva and found the best
-reviewed, a private clinic. Once Margot approved it, Rehka began corresponding with doctors and estate agents in the area in Margot’s new name until she’d made all the arrangements for prenatal care and a place to live.
Another consideration was a new passport. Neither of her old ones now looked like the new Margot, and Rex had a suggestion for her next persona.
“Why don’t we make you Margot Donnelly? I can pass for your husband or brother, whichever you prefer, or whichever is expedient in the moment.”
Margot shrugged. “I don’t see why not. If you’re good with it, so am I.” She didn’t say that it was a thought that had crossed her mind more than once the last few days.
“It was my idea, of course I am okay with it,” Rex replied.
It was settled. Once she’d had a chance to put on some makeup and admire her new hairstyle once again, Rehka took her picture, cropped it to the correct dimensions, put it all on a thumb drive, and took it to a print shop to print. Then Rex went to have a new passport made for her.
While waiting for the new passport for Margot, Rex went out and bought another satphone. He quietly asked Rehka to configure it so that it would only have his number. He handed over his old one, which would now have Rehka’s number and the new phone’s number. He asked her to keep it quiet, because he wouldn’t let Margot know about it yet. He just envisaged that there might be a situation when he would need to be able to contact Margot, or she him, when he was not nearby. He would see if it became necessary—better to be safe than sorry.
The next day, Margot and Rowan Donnelly, accompanied by Digger, flew together from Mumbai to Geneva.
Chapter 49
Geneva, Switzerland
MARGOT’S READY TEARS began trickling down her cheeks as their taxi driver delivered them to a small villa on the outskirts of Geneva. Surrounded by trees, it appeared to be a remodeled farmhouse that had been reserved when the city overtook the acreage that belonged to the farm. It was set perhaps half a kilometer from its nearest neighbors and separated from them by a privacy fence of at least two meters. The neighboring houses were grand, obviously a newer development, but the villa Rehka had rented for her was cozy-looking, charming, and surrounded by trees for even more privacy.
The yard was a bit unkempt, and Rex told Margot he’d clean it up, but she shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I love gardening!”
“Okay, we’ll work out who does what chores around the house later. Let’s first see what it looks like on the inside and if you like it,” Rex suggested.
They wasted no time doing just that, and it turned out Margot loved it. The rooms were furnished comfortably, and the first floor was adequate for Margot’s needs, so she wouldn’t need to climb the stairs toward the end of her pregnancy when it would have been a chore to do so. The inside had been partially remodeled, so that the master bedroom and its attached bath boasted clean lines and modern colors. The sitting room and its furnishings were of a different era, as was the kitchen, but everything was of the highest quality even though dated. Margot declared herself well-satisfied with Rehka’s choice.
There were separate living quarters upstairs so Digger and Rex could be close by to keep an eye on Margot, at least until Rex was certain she hadn’t attracted new followers.
“We have everything we need here, except groceries,” Rex said. “Why don’t I go and get some and come back this afternoon with a rented car for us and take you to an early dinner? In the meantime, you can get a rest, figure out where everything is, and settle in a bit. What do you say?”
“That sounds like a fine plan,” she answered.
Leaving her to explore what would be her new home for the next six months, Rex returned to the waiting taxi and asked to be taken back to the center of town. Rex had the taxi drop him and Digger off in a park near the shopping district. He found a bench and, observing others with their dogs, let Digger off his leash with an admonishment not to pick a fight. Digger gave him a look he could have sworn was scornful before trotting off to make some new friends.
Rex took out his satphone and called Rehka. After the usual greetings, he said, “Well, we arrived, and Margot loves the villa. You did a great job.”
“Thanks! I’ve also arranged a car for you.”
“You’re a star, Rehka. You’ve thought of everything. Thanks for that. What’s the address? I’m going food shopping, and then I’ll take Margot out to dinner. I’m not sure how she’ll respond to my cooking, and she can use a rest tonight.”
She gave him the address and asked if there was anything else she could do.
“No, Rehka, I think that’s all. Thank you! You’ve made it very easy for us. I think I’ll go do that grocery shopping now. Thanks again. I’ll give you a call now and then to let you know how things are going.”
“Ruan, how long do you intend to stay with Margot?”
“I’ll play it by ear, Rehka. Maybe just a month or two to make sure she’s settled in and doing okay on her own. But if necessary, I might stay until the baby is born.”
They said their goodbyes, and Rex called Digger back, interrupting what might have become a romance with a full-sized poodle who seemed to think Digger was the handsomest dog she’d ever seen. But Rex would have sworn that Digger was relieved to be rid of the pushy, French canine female. Rex hailed a taxi and gave him the address where his rental car was waiting.
When he got the rental car, he discovered Rehka had indicated he’d pay cash, avoiding a paper trail. She really had thought of everything.
Rex smiled when he saw the car, a PEUGEOT 308 station wagon, a spacious 5-door with enough space for Digger in the back.
I guess Margot would be thrilled to at least be driving around in a French car again.
“Okay, buddy let’s go find a market and get some food,” Rex told Digger as he opened the hatchback door.
Digger didn’t have to be told again, he jumped straight in, sniffed around, and sat down looking to the front in anticipation.
***
AFTER THAT FIRST night, when Rex had taken Margot for an early dinner and shopping, they worked out a daily routine.
In the mornings, Rex would feed Digger, and then the two of them would take a five-mile run before knocking on Margot’s door. Then he would start preparing breakfast for them. In the afternoons, they would take long walks.
For days, they’d been chatting about everything but the elephant in the room—Giles Aguillard’s intentions and what she wanted to do. Rex didn’t push it. After her ordeal in Vietnam, he wanted her to have time to rest and recuperate, and he knew she would talk about it when she was ready.
On the third day after they arrived, Margot had her first appointment with the doctor who would provide her pre-natal care and deliver the baby. Rex was a bit nervous that she’d want him to accompany her.
Margot must have sensed his uneasiness and took the opportunity to have a bit of fun. “So, Rowan, can I take it that you’ll be chauffeuring me to the doctor’s clinic today?”
“Ah... yes… of course I will… be happy to do that.”
Margot started laughing. “Don’t worry, I was just pulling your leg. I am not disabled, I can do this myself. You and Digger go about your business. I’ll fill you in when I get home.”
A few hours later, Rex was sitting again at the kitchen table and watching her bustle about. “What did the doctor say?”
“He said I’m pregnant,” she teased.
“Really? Is that what he thinks it is? I would never have guessed that.”
Margot stopped laughing. “All right, I’ll tell you. He did an ultrasound and established that I’m about sixteen weeks along, which is a bit more than I realized. I thought maybe twelve. Other than that, I’m healthy, and the baby is doing fine.”
“Did you find out the gender of the baby?”
“I asked, but the baby didn’t want to play along, kept its back to the scanner all the time, so he couldn’t tell. I’m okay with not knowing. I’d rather be surpr
ised, even though I have a strong intuition the baby’s a little girl.”
“Anything else?”
“He gave me a prescription for pre-natal vitamins.” She showed him a pharmacy bottle full of pills of a size he thought a horse might have trouble swallowing. “He said the nausea shouldn’t come back, and that I’m fine to carry on any normal activities I feel like doing.”
Rex suddenly felt an urge to protect and pamper Margot. “I’ll take over the meal preps from now on. Then you can get off your feet.”
She turned around to face him. She had a smudge of flour on her nose and a wooden spoon in her hand, looking like a harried housewife, but a beautiful one. “Do you know anything about pregnant women, Rowan Donnelly?”
Sheepishly, he had to answer, “No, not really. I mean, I was old enough to remember my mother pregnant with my brother and sister, but I was very young at the time, maybe seven or eight or so. It seemed like she was always tired.”
“You probably only remember the last couple of months. Right now, I’m full of energy, and I feel like I could build a house and then build the furniture to go in it.”
Rex’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“No, silly. But I think it’s hormonal that women seem to want to become homemakers and feed people and sort of feather their nests when a baby is on the way. By the way, my doctor wants you to come to the next visit, so he can get us signed up for pre-natal classes.”
Rex’s jaw dropped. He’d been noticing for the past few days that Margot seemed to be filling out, not only a slight roundness to her waistline, but her face was fuller as well.
And… well, best not to go there.
