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“Are you in danger?” asked Nate. His thoughts were racing. She was talking about past operations, a political assassination, liquidation of one of their own personnel, scandal at the top of the SVR. She was dictating at least a half dozen intel reports right there, from the couch. He didn’t dare take notes, he had to keep her rolling.

“You were involved in the Ustinov affair,” said Nate, “so your uncle may be nervous about you.”

She shook her head. “My uncle knows I cannot hurt him. My mother is in Moscow. He uses her as a zalozhnica, a hostage, like in the old days. Besides, he trained me, put me through school, sent me abroad. I am as much his creature as that monster of his.

“I was sent to Helsinki to meet you, to develop a friendship with you,” Dominika said. “My uncle says he considers me one of his operations officers, but he looks at me as his little Sparrow, right out of the 1960s. They have been impatient with the progress I have been making with you. They want to hear how I took you to bed.”

“I’m willing to help you there,” said Nate. She stared back at him and sniffled thinly.

“You are pleased to continue joking,” she said. “Perhaps you will not think it is so funny when I tell you that I am supposed to find out about your former activities in Moscow, about the mole you meet. Uncle Vanya sent me to watch you, to see if you become operational, active, like you did for two weeks last month.”

The mole you meet? Nate felt like the child standing beside the tracks as a fast freight roars by, inches from being swept away. He tried not to react, but he knew Dominika saw it in his face.

“I did not say anything to that slug Volontov,” said Dominika. “Marta was still alive then. She knew what I had decided.” Nate was trying to concentrate on her words while numbly contemplating the close call with MARBLE. They had had no idea of the danger. Dominika’s decision not to report most probably saved his life.

“Since I bumped into you at the swimming pool, I was trying to establish a friendship with you,” said Dominika. “In many ways, we were doing the same thing to each other. I know you were trying to identify my weaknesses, my ujazvimoe mesto, what is the word, vulnerability?

“Your charming pursuit ensured only that we would spend more time together. I suppose that was Uncle Vanya’s plan all along. What surprised me was that I continued to let you work on me because—it dawned on me—I wanted you to continue to work on me. I liked being with you.”

Nate sat motionless, still holding her hand. Jesus Christ, she had been working him, just like Gable thought. The SVR were hunting for MARBLE. Thank God she had decided the way she had. And, thought Nate, God bless Marta, wherever she was.

He knew Dominika was already out of the starting gate, the critical stage. Her flat voice was a distillate of anger, fear, her desire to lash out. She had already told him enough to cook her three times over. Now came the infinitely delicate moment when she would pull back and go away, or she would make the decision that she would become a CIA source.

“Dominika,” he said, “I already told you I wanted to help you. I already asked you what you needed. What do you want to do?”

Dominika took her hand out of his, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t regret anything,” she said.

“I know you don’t,” said Nate. There was no sound in the room. “What do you want to do?” he asked softly.

It was as if she could read his mind. “You’re very clever, aren’t you, Mr. Neyt Nash?” she said. “I came here to cry on your shoulder, to tell you about my mission against you, to tell you I helped you.”

“I am grateful for all that,” said Nate, not wanting to show how scandalously relieved he was.

Dominika could see it in his face nonetheless. “But you’re not asking me to work with you to avenge Marta, nor to get back at my uncle, or Volontov, or the rest of them, nor to try to reform my beloved country.”

“I don’t have to tell you any of that,” he said.

“Of course you don’t,” she said. “You’re too careful for that.” Nate looked at her without saying anything. “All you do is ask me what I want to do.”

“That’s right,” said Nate.

“Instead, suppose you tell me what you want me to do.”

“I think we should begin working together. Stealing secrets,” Nate said immediately, his heart in his mouth.

“For revenge, for Marta, for Rodina, for—”

“No, none of those,” interrupted Nate. Gable’s words came into his head. Dominika looked at him. His purple halo had spread like the rays of a rising sun. “Because you need it, Dominika Egorova, because it helps you feed that temper of yours, because it’ll be something you own, for once in your life.”

Dominika stared at him. His eyes were steady, open. “That’s a very interesting thing to say,” she said.

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