Their tradecraft was good. Hans was at his designated location, sitting there, reading Der Spiegel and wearing the agreed-upon brown leather jacket, and he saw Dmitriy Arkadeyevich, carrying his black attach+й case in his left hand, striding down the concourse with all the other business travelers. Furchtner finished his coffee and left to follow him, trailing Popov by about twenty, meters, angling off to the left so that they took different exits, crossing over to the parking garage by different walkways. Popov allowed his head to turn left and right, caught Hans on the first sweep and observed how he moved. The man had to be tense, Popov knew. Betrayal was how most of the people like Furchtner got caught, and though Dmitriy was known and trusted by them, you could only be betrayed by someone whom you trusted, a fact known to every covert operator in the world. And though they knew Popov both by sight and reputation, they, couldn't read minds which, of course, worked quite well for Popov in this case. He allowed himself a quiet smile as he walked into the parking garage, turned left, stopped as though disoriented, and then looked around for any overt signs that he was being followed before finding his bearings and moving-on his way. Furchtner's car proved to be in. a distant corner on the first level, a blue Volkswagen Golf.
"tauten Tag, " he said; on sitting in the right-front seat.
"Good morning, Herr Popov," Furchtner replied in English. It was American in character and almost without accent. He must have watched a lot of television, Dmitriy thought.
The Russian dialed the combinations into the locks of the case, opened the lid; and placed it in his host's lap. "You should find everything in order."
"Bulky," the man observed.
"It is a sizable sum," Popov agreed.
Just then suspicion appeared in Furchtner's eyes: That surprised the Russian, until he thought about it. for a moment. The KGB had never been lavish in their payments to their agents, but in this attach+й case was enough- cash to enable two people to live comfortably in any of several African countries for a period of some years. Hans was just realizing that, Dmitriy saw, and while part of the German was content just to take the money, the smart portion of his brain suddenly wondered where the money had come from. Better not to wait for the question, Dmitriy thought."Ah, yes," Popov said quietly. "As you know, many of my colleagues have outwardly turned capitalist in order to survive in my country's new political environment. But we are still the Sword and Shield of the Party, my young friend. That has not changed. It is ironic, I grant you, that now we are better able to compensate our friends for their services. It turns out to be less expensive than maintaining the safe houses which you once enjoyed. I personally find that amusing. In any case, here -is your payment, in cash, in advance, in the amount you specified."
"Danke, " Hans Furchtner observed, staring down into the attach+й case's ten centimeters of depth. Then he hefted the case. "It's heavy."
"True," Dmitriy Arkadeyevich agreed. "But it could be worse. I might have paid you in gold," he joked, to lighten the moment, then decided to make his own play. "Too heavy to carry on the mission?"
"It is a complication, Iosef Andreyevich."
"Well, I can hold the money for you and come to you to deliver it upon the completion of your mission. That is your choice, though I do not recommend it."
"Why is that?" Hans asked. "Honestly, it makes me nervous to travel with so much cash. The West, well, what if I am robbed? This money is my responsibility," he replied theatrically.
Furchtner found that very amusing. "Here, in Osterreich, robbed on the street? My friend, these capitalist sheep are very closely regulated."
"Besides, I do not even know where you will be going, and I really do not need to know-at this time, anyway."
"The Central African Republic is our ultimate destination. We have a friend there who graduated Patrice Lumumba University back in the sixties. He trades in arms to progressive elements. He will put us up for a while, until Petra and I can find suitable housing."
They were either very brave or very foolish to go to that country, Popov thought. Not so long before it had been called the Central African Empire, and had been ruled by "Emperor Bokassa I," a former colonel in the French colonial army, which had once garrisoned this small, poor nation, Bokassa had killed his way to the top, as had so many African chiefs of state, before-dying, remarkably enough; of natural causes-so the papers said, anyway; you could never really be-sure, could you? The country he'd left behind, a,small diamond producer, was somewhat better off economically than -was the norm on the dark continent, though not by much. But then, who was to say that Hans and Petra would ever get there?
"Well, my friend, it is your decision," Popov said, patting the attach+й case still open in Furchtner's lap.