Lesya did not look convinced.
Finn stepped in front of his mother. “I’ve already scared my family to death. I have no idea if they’re really safe. If I try to go to them, I could be leading Gray right to their door.”
“I told you there would be risks, many of them.”
“Like there was ever a question that I would turn my back on you,” Finn said angrily. “My whole life you’ve prepared me to do this. That it was my duty to make it right. That I was the only one who could do it.”
“Every man has a choice,” Lesya said. She pointed at Stone. “Like this man. He chose to follow rather than question orders and he killed an innocent man.”
“He was a soldier. He was trained to follow orders.”
“So were Bingham, Cole and Cincetti,” his mother pointed out. “Why is he different?”
“Because he came to warn us. But for him you and I would be dead now. That’s the difference. I think he’s earned our trust. Your trust.”
“I’ve never trusted anyone in my life, other than your father.”
“And me,” Finn said.
“And you,” she conceded.
“Well, if you really trust me, listen to me! You can’t go through your whole life thinking everyone is against you.”
“That philosophy served me well for many long years.”
“And if you hadn’t trusted Rayfield Solomon?”
Lesya fell silent, studying her son closely. Then she slowly turned her attention to Stone. “How well do you know your Soviet history?”
“I was there a lot if that means anything.”
“Do you know the two heads of the Communist Party before Gorbachev came to power?”
Stone nodded. “Yuri Andropov and Konstantin Chernenko. Why?”
“Soviet leaders were generally known for their longevity. Yet Andropov lasted barely thirteen months, Chernenko roughly the same.”
“They were old men in ill health,” Stone replied. “They were filler after Brezhnev died. No one expected either of them to last long.”
Lesya clapped her hands together. “Precisely. No one expected them to last long, so when they died, no one was surprised.”
“You mean they were killed?” Stone said.
“It is not that difficult to kill old, sick men. Even when they’re Soviet premiers.”
“On whose orders were they killed?”
“Your government’s.”
Finn stared at her in amazement. “That’s impossible. Under U.S. law it’s illegal to assassinate a head of state.”
She scoffed. “What does that mean when you’re trying to prevent a nuclear war that will wipe out the planet? Andropov and Chernenko were old men, yes, but they were hard-line Communists. They were in the way. No real change would occur under them. And the Soviet Union was crumbling. Its back was against the wall. There was growing talk of very desperate measures that the Communist Party leadership was considering taking to restore its place as a superpower. That could not be allowed to happen. Gorbachev had to be given a clear field. Because even though early on Gorbachev seemed to be the same as the other party leaders, we knew he was very different. We knew things would change under him. He was still a Communist and we knew he would not dissolve the Soviet Union, but we also knew that the threat of war would go down considerably with him in power. Then Yeltsin came along after Gorbachev. No one could have predicted that, but it was under Yeltsin that the Soviet Union was dismantled.
“But we had to get rid of the old Communist Party leaders. We had to! And we told the Americans our beliefs about this. They agreed with us. And Rayfield thought the same. He knew as much about the inner workings of the Soviet Union as any American alive. But we did not come up with the assassination plot. That was the Americans.” She eyed Stone. “You believe it’s true, don’t you?”
“Heads of state have been assassinated before,” Stone admitted. “But are you saying Gorbachev knew of the plot?”
“Of course not. Only a very few of us did.”
“How did your orders come on this?” Stone asked.
“From our contact on the American side.”
“Who was that?”
“Does it not seem obvious? Roger Simpson.”
“And you and your team killed Andropov and Chernenko?”
“Let us say we helped them to their graves prematurely, yes.”
“And Rayfield Solomon was involved?”
“Deeply. The Soviets thought he was working for them.”
“How do you know this was approved by the U.S. government?”
“I just told you. We received the instructions from Simpson. He was our case manager. And he reported directly to Carter Gray. And Gray to the head of CIA.”
“So you just followed orders, without question.”
“Yes.”
“And killed Andropov and Chernenko, two innocent men?”
Lesya and Stone exchanged a long look. “Yes,” she said slowly.
Finn said, “Why would the Americans kill my father and try to kill you if you completed your assignment successfully? Why would they try to paint you as traitors?”
Stone answered. “Because the American government didn’t order the assassinations. Possibly it was the CIA, or Simpson and Gray could have done it on their own. And once the deed was done they had to discredit and then get rid of anyone who knew about the murders.” He looked at Lesya. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” said Lesya. “And what do you think they would do to prevent that truth from coming out now? It could cause war between Russia and the United States. What do you think they would do?” she asked again.
Finn answered. “They’d kill anyone they had to.”
“And unfortunately we are David and they are Goliath,” Lesya added bitterly. “The Americans are always Goliath.”
“But David beat Goliath. And so can we if we get to them first,” Stone replied.
“Just the three of us?” Lesya said skeptically.
“We’re not alone,” Stone said. “I have friends.”
If they’re still alive.
CHAPTER 80
ALEX HAD HAILED A CAB and he and Annabelle had driven off. He had decided not to wait for the other feds to show up. The charred truck and the floating corpses that awaited them would be self-explanatory in any event. He did call the FBI lead commander and let him know what had happened and that he and Annabelle were the only survivors. “If you need us, we’ll be at my house,” he told the man. “I’m in the book.”
The commander protested but Alex cut him off. “We’ve had enough for one day. Go and clean up the pieces and talk to us later. It’s not like you have to take Bagger to trial. He gets to go before a higher judge now.”
The cab dropped them off at Alex’s house in Manassas, a one-story rancher with a single-car garage, set off by itself down a gravel drive. Inside the garage was Alex’s fully restored ’69 fire red Corvette, the only extravagance the Secret Service agent had ever allowed himself. His fed cruiser was parked out front.
“You hungry?” he asked Annabelle, but she merely shook her head.
“I guess asking if you’re okay would be pretty stupid right now.”