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Communist? I knew CARM well and long, and I couldn’t call them that. They are left-wing socialists, but their program is based in Colombia, not in Moscow or Peking or even Havana.
The news that a CARM revolution was imminent was welcome news indeed. The thought that I might be ordered to sabotage this revolution was terrifying. I would not do it. I would not dream of doing it. If I went to Colombia, it would be to aid the revolution, not to destroy it.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t go.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t go to Colombia. I can’t accept the assignment.”
“But that’s ridiculous, Ta
I killed time with a sip of Scotch. I finished the drink and while he poured more whiskey into my glass and his I shuffled through my brain looking for a convenient lie. I thought of those star-crossed lovers, Karlis and Sofija, and I stopped shuffling. If I had to do something ludicrous, I might as well do it in a good cause. If I had to go traipsing around the world, I might better traipse to Latvia than to Colombia.
I said, “There’s another trip I have to take.”
“Where to?”
“ Eastern Europe.”
“Be more specific.”
“The Baltic States.”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?”
He stared intently at me. I was playing a dangerous game, but I had a hunch I might get away with it. From what I knew about his agency (our agency?), one had a considerable amount of leeway. His men did not make written reports or follow instructions. They were given a job to do, they made their own plans and established their own contacts, and they went in and did it and came back and a
“The Baltic States,” he said.
“Yes.”
“An important mission?”
“Not government business, really. A favor for a friend.”
“Oh, come now, Ta
I shrugged.
“I’m afraid I know you too well for that, Ta
“I’d rather not say anything in advance.”
“Mmmm. Something bigger than Colombia. You won’t tell me what it is?”
“Let me just say that it’s an errand for a friend.”
He chuckled again, and I knew everything was going to be all right for the time being. “You and Dallma
On the way home I stopped at the Western Union office. I wired a friend in Bogota. I sent the message in Spanish, but in English it would work out to something like this: BEST OF LUCK IN COMING VENTURE. UNDERSTAND BOY SCOUTS ARE COMING. TAKE CARE.
That night I took a train to Providence.
Karlis gave me her picture and her address and his blessing. He wanted desperately to come along, and it was not easy to talk him out of it. I kept reminding him that the Russians would know of his high position with the Latvian Army-In-Exile and that his presence in the country would endanger not only himself but me and Sofija in the bargain. He was disappointed, but he could appreciate the truth of that.
“The entry and escape will be difficult,” I told him. They would be impossible, I thought. “And I must travel as light as possible. One man, alone, might be able to get in. One man and one woman might be able to get out. But I won’t even take a suitcase, just a few things in a leather portfolio. I want to travel light.”
I didn’t want to travel at all. But I went home again and packed some things in my slim satchel and I studied maps of Europe and I thought of flying straight to Helsinki. Finland is just across the Baltic from Estonia, and that would be the simplest way of entering the region.
Then I remembered my son Todor. And for the first time the trip’s être had a raison. I couldn’t expect to rescue Sofija because that was plainly impossible. I could not honestly expect to get into Latvia at all. But I could damn well get into Yugoslavia and I could find A
The next morning, bright and early, I caught a TWA jet to Athens.
Chapter 5
For three days and three nights I lived the good life in Macedonia. I gathered wood for the fire. I played with Todor and sported with A
But one sun-brightened morning it was time. I looked at A
“Yes.”
“You must go, then? It is time?”
“It is time, little dove.”
“I am a Macedonian woman,” she said, “and will not weep.”
There was nothing to pack. I tucked my slim satchel between two of my sweaters. I picked up my walking stick. A
“He is a good boy,” I said. “I am proud of him.”
“He brings me joy.”
“I am grateful for the picture of him. If, from time to time, you could have other pictures drawn and sent to me-”
“It shall be done.”
When I reached the door she said, “You will return, Evan?”
“Yes. Someday.”
“Perhaps Todor shall have many brothers.”
I turned to her, and saw the radiance of her eyes and the set of her jaw and the great strength and beauty of her. And Latvia, after all, was miles and miles away over cold and distant lands. So I reentered the hut and closed the door, and we put Todor to sleep on his own little straw mattress, and it was another warm, sweet hour before I got out of there.
The map I had drawn on the floor of the hut remained brightly outlined in my mind. While I worked my way north through Yugoslavia I spent my time pla
I was not especially anxious to do this. From what I understood, internal security within Russia is honed to a keener edge than in the Eastern European satellite nations. Even the police in countries like Hungary and Poland will occasionally overlook subversive activity on the grounds that it is not so much anti-Hungarian or anti-Polish as it is anti-Russian. The Russian authorities, on the other hand, ca
That was only part of it. The political crazy quilt of Eastern Europe was dotted with friends and comrades of mine, political oases in a desert of officialdom. And, while I had a smattering of such friends in Russia itself, notably my Armenian Nationalist friends in the south and a handful of Ukrainians and White Russians, they were scattered far and wide and came under rather close government scrutiny.