George passed her a bowl to dry. “So what’s happening in Warsaw?”

“The Soviets will not invade. We know that. The Polish Communists asked them to, and they refused point-blank. But Brezhnev is pressing Jaruzelski to declare martial law and abolish Solidarity.”

“That would be a shame.”

“That’s what the State Department thinks.”

George hesitated. “I hear the word but coming along . . .”

“You know me too well.” She smiled. “We have the power to stamp on the martial law plan. President Reagan would only have to say that future economic aid depends on human rights.”

“Why doesn’t he?”

“He and Al Haig don’t really believe the Poles will impose martial law on themselves.”

“Who knows? It might be smart to issue the warning anyway.”

“That’s what I think.”

“So why don’t they?”

“They don’t want the other side to realize just how good our intelligence is.”

“There’s no point in having intelligence unless you use it.”

“Maybe they will,” said Maria. “But right now they’re dithering.”

• • •

Snow was falling in Warsaw two weekends before Christmas. Tanya spent Saturday night alone. Staz never explained why he was or was not free to stay at her apartment. She had never been to his place, though she knew where he lived. Since she had introduced him to Cam Dewar, Staz had been closemouthed about everything to do with the army. Tanya assumed this was because he was revealing secrets to the Americans. He was like a prisoner who is on good behavior all day while digging an escape tunnel at night.

But this was the second Saturday Tanya had spent without him. She was not sure why. Was he tiring of her? Men did. The only man who had remained a permanent part of her life was Vasili, and she had never slept with him.

She found she was missing Vasili. She had never allowed herself to fall in love with him, because he was promiscuous, but she felt drawn to him. What she liked in men, she was beginning to realize, was courage. The three most important men in her life had been Paz Oliva, Staz Pawlak, and Vasili. As it happened they were all terrifically handsome. But they were also brave. Paz had stood up to the might of the USA, Staz had betrayed the secrets of the Red Army, and Vasili had defied the power of the Kremlin. Of the three, Vasili was the one who most thrilled her imagination, for he had written devastating stories about the Soviet Union while starved and half-frozen in Siberia. She wondered how he was, and wished she knew what he was writing now. She wondered if he had gone back to his old Casanova ways, or had genuinely settled down.

She went to bed and read Doctor Zhivago in German—it still had not been published in Russian—until she felt sleepy and turned out the light.

She was awakened by banging. She sat upright and turned on the light. It was half past two in the morning. Someone was pounding on a door, though not her door.