Mistress

“I realized the Russians might try to kill me once they had the video and I was no longer any use to them,” she explains. “And if they tried to kill me, I wanted them on video inside my apartment.” Diana looks up at me. “Ben, I swear to you, I didn’t know they’d move so quickly. Nina was going to leave the next day. I didn’t think they’d come after me that night. I…I didn’t want her to die. I didn’t. I swear.”

I don’t know if I believe her or not. But either way, she was being awfully reckless with someone else’s life.

“And who covered up Nina’s death?” I ask. “The CIA?”

She looks at me like the answer’s obvious. “Of course. By then they knew everything. They might have even known that the Russians were coming for me. They made a decision that they wanted everyone to believe I was dead.”

And it worked. For a while, at least. Until I got curious.

But now it’s over. Diana checked her morals at the door, made an admittedly bold and daring attempt at scoring a huge payday, and lost as badly as someone can lose. Now she will spend the rest of her life in a cell.

I loved this woman. You can’t just turn off that kind of feeling. But I loved a person who didn’t exist. I loved someone Diana was pretending to be. Maybe the signs were there, but I refused to see them. Maybe I didn’t want to see them.

The guard approaches and tells me that my time’s up. I take a deep breath and look at Diana.

I place my hand gently on the bars of the cell and look at Diana one last time. “There’s still good in your life,” I say. “It’s going to be harder to find it. But it’s there, Diana. Don’t stop looking for it.”

Then I walk away, wondering if I should start taking some of my own advice.

Chapter 113

Professor Andrei Bogomolov doesn’t answer the door when I ring the bell. Instead, a nurse leads me back into his den, where Andrei is lying on a hospital bed positioned against a wall.

Andrei looks twenty times worse than the last time I saw him, only a week ago. The hideous disease that ails him is rapidly winning the fight. Wisps of hair atop his head stand in various directions. His eyes are black and vacant.

The hospital bed wasn’t here the last time I came. Or at least he didn’t let me see it. It tells me that the end is near for him, and that he wants to die at home, not in a hospital.

He tries to smile, but even that small feat seems to cause pain. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it gently.

“Hello, old friend,” I say.

“You are…a hero,” he manages. You’ve done well, Grasshopper.

“All in a week’s work.” I’m trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat.

I look out the window to the garden, recalling that barbecue only weeks after Mother died. If you ever feel that you’re in danger, Andrei had said to me, you can call me, Benjamin. I will help you.

“You have come here…for a reason,” he whispers.

“I came to see my good friend.” I smile at him.

Andrei winces, and then a coughing attack ensues. I pick up a washcloth at his bedside and wipe his mouth when it’s over.

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to say,” I tell him.

“Yes, I…do,” he manages. “It is…long past…time. A subject…I’ve debated…many times. Many…”

His eyes close. He drifts off to sleep. The pain medication from the IV drip, probably, or maybe just general weakness. After a few minutes, he snaps awake, his eyes unfocused, and he takes a moment to orient himself before he looks at me again.

“Why did my father kill my mother?” I ask.

The question and, probably, the memories it invokes cause him pain, and his mouth contorts briefly. “This is not…something…that we could confirm…at the time. But now…now we believe…we know…the answer.”

“Why did my father kill my mother, Andrei?”

Andrei takes a deep breath.

“He didn’t,” he says.

I draw back, as if zapped by electricity.

“His…employer did,” says Andrei. “Your father…tried to…prevent it.”

His employer. Father’s employer? He doesn’t mean American University.

“So there was a reason the CIA put you at American U,” I say. “You were spying on my father.”

Andrei closes his eyes and nods. “It is…true.”

“Who did Father spy for?” I ask. “The Russians?”

Andrei’s eyes open again. “China,” he says. “We believe…that your mother…discovered this…and they…the Chinese-”

“The Chinese killed my mother because they thought she was going to blow Father’s cover,” I say, everything crystallizing now.

“Just so,” he whispers. “Just so.”

I release his hand and back away from his bed. “And…why…why…why the hell…did Father frame me for-”

Out of nowhere, my throat closes up and I completely lose my composure. The tears almost jump from my eyes down my cheeks, and my chest starts to heave. I stay that way for God knows how long, whimpering like a child and crying like I don’t remember ever crying, struggling for oxygen and seizing up, trembling and screaming in choked wails, everything buried deep within me now pouring out-