The Hunted

He took in the flared nostrils, the sparks in the blue eyes, the gripped fists, and he made the only sensible choice: a swift, meek retreat to the bed. He sat stiffly on a corner, enough to placate her-enough also to signal his stubborn indifference.

She sat on the opposite corner. She crossed her legs and for a moment did not say a word. Then, "Tell me what's happening. It's my life, too, and you're keeping everything to yourself."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'd rather you do. No, I insist."

"Are we having a fight?"

"Not yet." She pulled a pillow over and rested it against her back. "But we're about to have a bloody world war if you don't tell me what's going on. I'm not bluffing."

"I don't want to depress you."

"Your depression is depressing me. Frankly I don't care if we lost everything. I'd actually be quite pleased if somebody else is now living in that musty old mansion."

"It's a good thing. I did, I lost everything. The money, our homes, our companies… everything."

"I thought the money was safe."

"Apparently they found the account numbers and security codes. They were better prepared than I anticipated."

"Well… it's only money, dear."

"A million or two is only money, Elena. But two hundred million in cash, and stock worth another hundred million, I think that deserves a slightly better modifier than 'only money,' don't you?"

She had no idea it was that much. "Yeltsin won't allow it. He owes you everything, Alex."

A long sigh. "I can't get through to him. And believe me, I've tried. I've called his office countless times, and flooded it with faxes."

"Maybe he's busy. I'm sure that's it. This is urgently important to us, but I think he has a few other problems on his plate."

"No, I'm being stonewalled. I call and get foisted from one unimportant assistant to another. I know damn well what's going on."

"Okay, what is going on?"

"Somebody inside is pulling strings. Somebody clever and powerful enough to block me from Yeltsin. Each time it's a fresh new assistant, each time I have to start over from scratch. They're taking turns. They're trying to wear me down, and it's worked."

"You're smarter than they are, sweetheart. Shift your approach."

"Do you think I haven't attempted that? I tried every path into the Kremlin I could think of. Among many others, I've contacted the minister of security, the secretary of the Security Council, the minister of finance, the mayor of Moscow, even the chairman of the Central Bank."

"And what do they say?"

"They said it sounded terrible and promised to look into it." He turned away from her and stared again at the window. "That was last week's line. Now they won't take my calls."

She reached over and hauled the champagne bottle out of the bucket. Over the long days and nights they had stayed cooped up in the hotel she had managed to make only one friend, Amber Lincoln, a large, warm-hearted black woman who ran the phone bank in the basement. During Alex's week of furious activity, as Alex ignored her and as the switchboard people in the basement pulled hairs to keep up with his incessant requests for calls to various numbers in Russia, Elena had considered it the least she could do to reward their help by bringing food and an occasional bottle of wine.

This had been her only respite from Alex's bout of frenetic activity, and now his dark mood.

Champagne and sex were long overdue.

Her tiny fingers worked the aluminum cover before she handed off the bottle to Alex for the honors. "What do you think is going on?"

"Sergei Golitsin."

"The security chief? That ugly old toad?"

"He put this together, he and all the KGB crooks he brought into the company with him. He took over my company, and now has the nerve to rename it after himself. He stole everything I built, everything, Elena. He's now living fat and happy in our house."

He can have it, she thought, but said, "Everybody knows it's your company. He can't just steal it."

"Last week he fired every vice president. Called them all into my office, and ordered them to depart the building immediately. Armed guards pushed and shoved them out onto the street. Remember Mishi? He said it was the most frightening moment of his life. Even before they were called in, Golitsin's thugs already had taken over their offices." Alex rubbed his eyes and stared off into space. "All those decent, hardworking people, now they're out on the street, unemployed. It's my fault."

"How was it your fault?"

"I was stupid. And worse, careless. I became desperate after the killings, so I brought Golitsin in to protect the company. I've thought about it for days, and the pieces have fallen into place. From the very beginning he was plotting to steal it. I'm a fool."