Moscow Rules

blowouts served another purpose beyond building customer loyalty. They allowed Ivan and his security service to gather intelligence on clients at moments when their defenses were compromised by alcohol and other recreational pursuits. Given the size of the deal with the African delegation, Arkady Medvedev went along for the ride himself. Within five minutes of dumping the Africans at the Ukraina, he was on the phone to Ivan.
     
     
    “Arkady is former KGB. Just like Ivan. He’s normally a very cool customer. But not that night. He was agitated. It was obvious he’d picked up something he wasn’t happy about. I should have hung up, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the telephone from my ear. So I covered the mouthpiece with my hand and held my breath. I don’t think I took a single breath for five minutes. I thought my heart was going to burst through my skin.”
     
     
    “Why didn’t Ivan know you were on the line?”
     
     
    “I suppose we picked up separate extensions at the same moment. It was luck. Stupid, dumb luck. If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here now. Neither would you.”
     
     
    “What did Arkady tell Ivan?”
     
     
    “He told him that the Africans were planning to resell some of the supplies from the big dance at a substantial markup to a third party. And this third party wasn’t the usual sort of African rebel rabble.” She lowered her voice and furrowed her brow in an attempt to give a masculine cast to her face. “‘They are the worst of the worst, Ivan,’” she said, imitating Arkady’s voice. “‘They are the sort who fly airplanes into buildings and blow up backpacks on European subways, Ivan. The ones who kill women and children, Ivan. The head choppers. The throat slitters.’”
     
     
    “Al-Qaeda?”
     
     
    “He never used that name but I knew who he was talking about. He said it was essential that they cancel that portion of the deal because the merchandise in question was too dangerous to be placed in the hands of just anyone. There could be blowback, he said. Blowback for Russia. Blowback for Ivan and his network.”
     
     
    “How did Ivan react?”
     
     
    “My husband shared none of Arkady’s alarm. Quite the opposite. The merchandise in question was the most lucrative part of the overall deal. Instead of taking that portion of the deal off the table, Ivan insisted that, in light of the new information, they had to renegotiate the entire package. If the Africans were planning to resell at a substantial markup, then Ivan wanted his cut. In addition, there was the potential for more money to be earned on shipping and handling. ‘Why let the Africans deliver the weapons?’ he asked. ‘We can deliver them ourselves and make a few hundred thousand in the process.’ It’s how Ivan earns much of his money. He has his own cargo fleet. He can put weapons on the ground anywhere in the world. All he needs is an airstrip.”
     
     
    “Did Ivan ever suspect you’d eavesdropped on the call?”
     
     
    “He never did or said anything to make me think so.”
     
     
    “Was there another meeting with the Africans?”
     
     
    “They came to our house in Zhukovka the next evening, after they’d had a chance to sober up. It wasn’t as cordial as the first gathering. There was a great deal of shouting, mostly by Ivan. My husband doesn’t like double dealings. It brings out the worst in him. He told the Africans he knew all about their plans. He told them that unless they agreed to give him his fair share of the deal, the merchandise was off the table. The baritone giant screamed back for a while but eventually buckled to Ivan’s demands for more money. The next night, before they flew home, there was another blowout to celebrate the new deal. All sins had been forgiven.”
     
     
    “The merchandise in question—how did they refer to it?”
     
     
    “They called them needles. In Russian, the word needle is igla. I believe the Western designation for this weapon system is SA-18. It’s a shoulder-launch antiaircraft weapon. Though I’m not an expert in matters such as these, it is my understanding that the SA-18 is highly accurate and extremely effective.”
     
     
    “It’s one of the most dangerous antiaircraft weapons in the world. But are you sure, Elena? Are you sure they used the word igla ?”
     
     
    “Absolutely. I’m also certain that my husband didn’t care whether hundreds, or perhaps even thousands, of innocent people