The Charm School

In fact, her confession has fewer interesting details than yours does.”
    “She doesn’t know much.”
    “No? She knew about Yablonya and didn’t put that in her confession. She, too, has been condemned to death by the tribunal. Unless her confession is satisfactory, she will not have an opportunity to make an appeal for her life.”
    Hollis said nothing.
    “And she will be shot.” Burov studied Hollis a moment, then picked up a single sheet of paper and glanced at it. “Your appeal for clemency is interesting. You say you are willing to work here if you are not shot.”
    “Yes.”
    “What do you think we do here?”
    “Train KGB agents to pass as Americans.”
    Burov studied Hollis a moment, then inquired, “How do you know that?”
    “We guessed.”
    “You and Alevy?”
    “Yes.”
    “I see. And have you caught any of our graduates from this place?”
    “Yes. The Kellums.”
    Burov leaned across his desk. “When did you discover them?”
    “Only… I guess it was last Thursday or Friday. What day is this?”
    Burov didn’t answer, but asked, “And Dodson? Where is Dodson?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Burov stood and went to the window. He stared out at the dark pine forest, then asked, “If you people know about this place, why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
    “My government is pursuing a policy of peace at the moment.”
    “So they want to keep it quiet.”
    “That’s my understanding.”
    “But if Dodson somehow got in touch with your embassy…?”
    “They’ll shut him up.”
    Burov smiled. “Will they?”
    “I believe so. I don’t know everything that goes on there.”
    “No. I’d rather have Alevy here. But you’ll do for now.”
    Hollis rubbed his eyes. He knew that what he said was being recorded, and perhaps it was being fed into a voice-stress analyzer. Later, he’d be asked the same questions when he was attached to a polygraph and perhaps again under drugs. Any inconsistencies discovered then would be resolved with electric shock interrogation.
    Burov continued what was called in the trade the “soft” interrogation, and Hollis answered the questions, tonelessly and with an economy of words. Burov was good, but he was not a professional KGB interrogator of Special Service II. Hollis thought the bogus SS II interrogators at Lubyanka West in Washington were somewhat better. On the other hand, Hollis, as an air attaché with diplomatic immunity, was not supposed to have ever gotten into such a situation, and his training was somewhat limited.
    Hollis suspected, however, that Burov was enough of an egoist to think he could handle the situation himself, and that was why Burov, the camp commandant, had gone to Mozhaisk and Lefortovo restaurant on his own counterintelligence missions. Also, Hollis reminded himself, Burov and his whole Little America operation were probably in trouble with the politicians if not the Lubyanka. It was Hollis’ job to assure Burov that everything was all right. He did not want this place to disappear. Yet.
    Burov said, “I can’t imagine that your government would let our operation continue. Even in the interests of peace. There are thousands of our agents in America already, and we’re graduating over two hundred a year. What does Washington intend to do about
that
situation?”
    And that, Hollis thought, was the crux of the matter. He replied, “It is my understanding that the State Department is looking for a negotiated settlement.”
    “Are they? The diplomats are such women. What does the CIA want to do?”
    “Blow the whistle. Leak it to the world press.”
    “Ah, yes. And the White House?”
    “They’re sort of in between.”
    “And your people? The Defense Intelligence Agency?”
    “They have a moral interest in the fate of the captured fliers.”
    “And you? You, Colonel Sam Hollis?”
    Hollis allowed himself a small smile. “I just want to kill you.”
    Burov smiled in return. “Yes? I thought you wanted to work for me.”
    “That depends.”
    Burov nodded to himself, then said, “And has anyone proposed direct action against this school?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Something like rescuing one or two of these men and presenting them to the world as evidence.”
    “Not that I know of. From what I see here, that’s not possible.”
    “No, it’s not. And Dodson’s escape was wholly an internal conspiracy here. No outside help. Correct?”
    “We had no part in that.”
    “And Fisher’s meeting with