Moscow Rules

you’re planning to renew your professional relationship?”
     
     
    “One step at a time, Adrian.”
     
     
    Carter walked in silence for a moment, with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes cast downward. “I had a chance to peruse her file. Elena’s an interesting woman, to say the least. She’s a Leningrad girl. Did you notice that, Gabriel?”
     
     
    “Yes, Adrian, I did notice that.”
     
     
    “Her father was a Party muckety-muck. Worked for Gosplan, the central planning bureaucracy that oversaw the Rube Goldberg contraption once known as the Soviet economy. She went to Leningrad State University and was supposed to be an economist like her father. But apparently she had a change of heart and decided to study languages and art instead. It seems she was working at the Hermitage when she met Ivan. One wonders what she saw in him.”
     
     
    “They had similar backgrounds. Both were children of the elite.”
     
     
    “There’s a big difference between Gosplan and the KGB.”
     
     
    Gabriel heard footfalls and looked up to see a floppy-haired runner bounding toward them with headphones over his ears. He envied those innocent souls who could go out in public deprived of a vital sense. When they were alone again, Carter asked, “How do you intend to play this?”
     
     
    “After listening to those intercepts, I’m convinced that if a painting by Mary Cassatt were to come quietly onto the market Elena Kharkov would jump at the opportunity to have a look.”
     
     
    “And you would be standing next to it when she did?”
     
     
    “Or one of my associates. Someone with a pleasing demeanor and a deep passion for the paintings of Mary Cassatt. Someone who won’t make Elena’s bodyguards nervous.”
     
     
    Carter absently patted his right pocket, as if looking for his pipe. “Should I assume this encounter would take place on British soil?”
     
     
    “You should.”
     
     
    “That means you’re going to have to bring the British into the picture. Ivan and his entourage are under full-time MI5 surveillance whenever they’re in London. I suspect our British cousins will be more than willing to cooperate. The British have been pressing us to do something about Ivan for years.”
     
     
    Twenty yards ahead, a young woman was being pulled along the towpath by a panting Siberian husky. Gabriel, whose fear of dogs was legendary in the trade, deftly switched places with Carter and watched with a certain professional satisfaction as the dog pressed its dripping muzzle against the leg of Carter’s tracksuit.
     
     
    “This agent with a pleasing demeanor and a deep passion for Mary Cassatt,” Carter said as he wiped away the spittle. “Do you have someone in mind for the job yet?”
     
     
    “I’m inclined to use a woman. She would have to be able to pass as an American or a Brit. We have several suitable candidates but none with any real expertise when it comes to art. Which means I’d have to start from scratch to get them ready.”
     
     
    “That’s a shame. After all, the clock is ticking.”
     
     
    “Yes, Adrian, I realize that.”
     
     
    “As you may recall, we have someone who might fit the bill. She has a Ph.D. in art history from Harvard and she’s done a job like this before. She’s even operated with your service on a couple of occasions, which means she understands your rather archaic Hebrew-based lexicon.”
     
     
    “It might be complicated, Adrian.”
     
     
    “Because she’s secretly in love with you.” Carter glanced at Gabriel to see his reaction but received only a blank stare in return. “She’s a big girl, Gabriel. And thanks to you, she’s a true professional now.”
     
     
    “Where is she?”
     
     
    “Still at the Counterterrorism Center at Langley, which means she’s technically under my control. If you want her, she’s yours.”
     
     
    “Poor choice of words, Adrian.”
     
     
    “I was speaking in a professional sense, of course.”
     
     
    Gabriel walked in silence for a moment. “Obviously, she’s perfect for the job. But are you sure she’s ready to go back into the field?”
     
     
    “She worked with you during the Halton affair.”
     
     
    “As a liaison only. This operation would require sending her undercover again.”
     
     
    “I’m given regular updates on her progress. The Agency psychiatrist we assigned to her says she’s coming along nicely. Personnel says she’s had no problems adapting to her