“We negotiated with the French many times,” An said angrily. “Every agreement was designed only to gain time while they prepared further aggression. This was a lesson to our people, a lesson on dealing with imperialists, a lesson we will never forget.”

Dimka had read the history of Vietnam and knew that An’s anger was justified. The French had been as dishonest and perfidious as any other colonialists. But that was not the end of the story.

Natalya persisted—quite rightly, since this was the message Kosygin was undoubtedly giving Ho Chi Minh. “Imperialists are treacherous, we all know that. But negotiations can also be used by revolutionaries. Lenin negotiated at Brest-Litovsk. He made concessions, stayed in power, and reversed all those concessions when he was stronger.”

An parroted Ho Chi Minh’s line. “We will not consider negotiations until there is a neutral coalition government in Saigon that includes Vietcong representatives.”

“Be reasonable,” Natalya said mildly. “To make major demands as preconditions is just a way of avoiding negotiations. You must consider compromise.”

An said angrily: “When the Germans invaded Russia and marched all the way to the gates of Moscow, did you compromise?” He banged the table with his fist, a gesture that surprised Dimka coming from a supposedly subtle Oriental. “No! No negotiations, no compromise—and no Americans!”

Soon after that the banquet ended.

Dimka and Natalya returned to their hotel. He walked with her to her room. At the door, she said simply: “Come in.”

It would be only their third night together. The first two they had spent on a four-poster bed in a dusty storeroom full of old furniture at the Kremlin. But somehow being together in a bedroom seemed as natural as if they had been lovers for years.

They kissed and took off their shoes, and kissed again and brushed their teeth, and kissed again. They were not crazed with uncontrollable lust: rather, they were relaxed and playful. “We’ve got all night to do anything we like,” Natalya said, and Dimka thought those were the sexiest words he had ever heard.

They made love, then had some caviar and vodka she had brought with her, then made love again.

Afterward, lying on the twisted sheets, looking up at the slow-moving ceiling fan, Natalya said: “I assume someone is eavesdropping on us.”

“I hope so,” Dimka said. “We sent a KGB team over here at great expense to teach them how to bug hotel rooms.”

“Perhaps it’s Pham An listening,” Natalya said, and giggled.

“If so, I hope he enjoyed it more than the dinner.”

“Hmm. That was kind of a disaster.”

“They’ll have to change their attitude to get weapons from us. Even Brezhnev doesn’t want us involved in a massive war in Southeast Asia.”

“But if we refuse to arm them, they could go to the Chinese.”

“They hate the Chinese.”

“I know. Still . . .”

“Yes.”

They drifted off to sleep and were awakened by the phone. Natalya picked it up and gave her name. She listened for a while, then said: “Hell.” Another minute went by and she hung up. “News from South Vietnam,” she said. “The Vietcong attacked an American base last night.”