Bruckner reminded him of their purpose. “Let’s get this done, mate! Old fucker looks like he’s about to croak.”

Bruckner gave Franny a boost into the back of the truck and slammed shut the drop gate. Franny untied the makeshift sling and rolled up the sheets to form a pillow beneath Tolenka’s head. The old man had stopped struggling and the sunken chest seemed to be barely moving. Franny laid a hand on the age-spotted skull and the few remaining wisps of hair were greasy beneath his fingers.

“It’s going to be over soon. One way or the other,” he said and wondered if the Russian could hear him or even understand.

Bruckner slid open the window that divided the cab from the truck bed. There was a lurch as he threw it into gear and they reversed away from the hospital. Once he could, Bruckner turned and started down a street where all the buildings seemed to be weeping a strange viscous blue material. As the truck passed the buildings swayed and bent as if looking down to regard the passing vehicle. Franny shivered. He wasn’t sure Bruckner was seeing this.

“Drive faster!”

“I’m trying. Bloody piece of shit.”

“Or at least get us off this street! Now!”

Bruckner threw them around a corner. Franny grabbed Tolenka and buffered him so he didn’t hit the side. He feared what such a blow might do to his fragile grip on life. The slack mouth worked and a grating sound emerged, “Ma … ma … ma…”

Was this it? Was he dying and calling on his mother? Then Franny took a wild guess and said, “Mariamna? She’s fine. Safe. I got her to the States.”

A clawlike hand gripped Franny’s forearm. Tolenka’s eyes shifted colors and for an instant they seemed the eyes of a man and not windows into darkness. Franny kept talking, hoping to keep whatever remained of the man present.

“She told me about you. Dancing at embassy balls, and … and missions together. She still wears your medal.” The slack lips moved—a smile or a grimace? “She told me you were brave. I heard your voice on those tapes. You got the warning to us. We listened. We’re going to make it right.”

An exhalation of breath that might have been a sigh, though Franny feared it represented the final breaths of a dying man. He gripped the Russian tighter and whispered, “Hang on, sir. Just a little longer.”

The old engine on the truck groaned, the wheels vibrated as their speed increased. Frank held Tolenka tightly to try to ease the jouncing. The view outside was uncanny but were they still in Talas or in that other place?

“Bruckner, you gotta tell me once we’re … there.”

“Gonna be a bit hard to tell, mate, since there now seems to be here.”

“We’ve got to be sure.”

“I know!”