“I know it wasn’t his fault,” said Pichugin, on the verge of screaming at Kuznetzov for underutilizing Orlov. “Which is why I don’t want him restrained in any way. We’re licking our wounds this time. Next time we’ll be mopping our blood off the floor. We can’t afford another setback. Not this close to the finish line. The final dominoes should fall within the next few weeks, driving a permanent wedge between the Americans and their European allies—reopening doors long shut to Russia.”

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 59

Alexei Kaparov sat alone on a concrete bench a few blocks from his apartment, the dingy gray of Soviet-era block-style high-rises peeking through the trees. Old men crowded around chessboards on the stone tables lining one side of the park’s wide brick promenade, pigeons navigating their feet to peck at the lunch crumbs as they fell.

Kaparov had never taken to chess. He’d taken to vodka instead during his spare time, which had been scarce before he’d retired from the FSB a few years ago. Now, he had all the time in the world on his hands, and there was only so much time he could spend drinking—a challenge he rose to every day. Maybe he should take up smoking again to fill the void.

He took a short pull from the stainless-steel flask he had brought on his daily walk and relished in the comfortably warm glow that followed. His buzz was cut short by the phone in his pocket. Kaparov debated whether to check the phone or take another swig of vodka. He didn’t get many calls these days, so he set the flask on the bench next to him and pulled the phone from his pocket, noticing that he’d received a text message a minute earlier that had somehow gone unnoticed.

The message came from a different number, containing a code word established long ago by an old friend. Kaparov was coming up on the second anniversary of his retirement, a benchmark the two of them had agreed would be the earliest they could finally meet in person as allies and not adversaries. He answered the call.

“Karl. So good of you to call,” said Kaparov. “I’m very much looking forward to next year’s trip, though it’s difficult to determine if this all-inclusive idea of yours is legitimate or some kind of scam to get you out of paying full price. I saw something on Tripadvisor about top-shelf liquors not being served, so—”

“Alexei. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid this is a business call, and a very serious one at that,” said Karl Berg.

“You know what I’m doing right now?” asked Kaparov.

“Drinking vodka.”

“Besides that.”

“I haven’t a clue,” said Berg.