Chapters (49)
- Title Page
- Acknowledgements
- ONE - THE KREMLIN, MOSCOW SEPTEMBER 24, 1999
- TWO - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA OCTOBER 6, 1999
- THREE - CAUCASUS REGION NEAR THE CASPIAN SEA, RUSSIA, OCTOBER 10, 1999
- FOUR - THE WHITE HOUSE WASHINGTON, D.C. OCTOBER 26, 1999
- FIVE - KALININGRAD, RUSSIA OCTOBER 26, 1999
- SIX - KHABAROVSK TERRITORY NEAR THE RUSSIA-CHINA BORDER OCTOBER 27, 1999
- SEVEN - KALININGRAD, RUSSIA NOVEMBER 2, 1999
- EIGHT - WASHINGTON, D.C. NOVEMBER 5, 1999
- NINE - KALININGRAD REGION NOVEMBER 16, 1999
- TEN - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK NOVEMBER 28, 1999
- ELEVEN - NEW YORK CITY DECEMBER 23, 1999
- TWELVE - NEW YORK CITY DECEMBER 28, 1999
- THIRTEEN - VARIOUS LOCALES DECEMBER 31, 1999
- FOURTEEN - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA DECEMBER 31, 1999
- FIFTEEN - NEW YORK CITY DECEMBER 31, 1999
- SIXTEEN - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA DECEMBER 31, 1999
- SEVENTEEN - NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 1, 2000
- EIGHTEEN - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 1, 2000
- NINETEEN - NEW YORK CITY AND SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA JANUARY 1, 2000
- TWENTY - WASHINGTON, D.C. JANUARY 2, 2000 FROM THE
- TWENTY-ONE - NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 3, 2000 CALVARY CEMETERY, QUEENS
- TWENTY-TWO - MOSCOW JANUARY 6, 2000
- TWENTY-THREE - WASHINGTON, D.C. JANUARY 6, 2000
- TWENTY-FOUR - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA JANUARY 7, 2000
- TWENTY-FIVE - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA AND NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 8, 2000
- TWENTY-SIX - NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 16, 2000
- TWENTY-SEVEN - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 16, 2000
- TWENTY-EIGHT - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 16, 2000
- TWENTY-NINE - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 16, 2000
- THIRTY - NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 20, 2000
- THIRTY-ONE - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 26, 2000
- THIRTY-TWO - WASHINGTON, D.C. JANUARY 26, 2000
- THIRTY-THREE - WASHINGTON, D.C. JANUARY 28, 2000
- THIRTY-FOUR - NEW YORK CITY JANUARY 29, 2000
- THIRTY-FIVE - KALININGRAD, RUSSIA JANUARY 30, 2000
- THIRTY-SIX - THE KREMLIN, MOSCOW FEBRUARY 1, 2000
- THIRTY-SEVEN - ANKARA, TURKEY FEBRUARY 7, 2000
- THIRTY-EIGHT - CAPPADOCIA, SOUTHEASTERN TURKEY FEBRUARY 9, 2000
- THIRTY-NINE - KALININGRAD REGION FEBRUARY 9, 2000
- FORTY - KALININGRAD REGION FEBRUARY 10, 2000
- FORTY-ONE - NEW YORK CITY FEBRUARY 9, 2000
- FORTY-TWO - KALININGRAD REGION FEBRUARY 10
- FORTY-THREE - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA FEBRUARY 10, 2000
- FORTY-FOUR - MOSCOW FEBRUARY 11, 2000
- FORTY-FIVE - MOSCOW FEBRUARY 12, 2000
- FORTY-SIX - DAGOMYS BLACK SEA COAST, RUSSIA FEBRUARY 12, 2000
- FORTY-SEVEN - NEW YORK CITY KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT FEBRUARY 17, 2000
Stop, it, Gordian, he told himself. Take a deep breath. Take a step back from that endless cycle of guilt and recrimination. It doesn’t change the past, and you know where it leads you.
Right.
So where did that leave him?
With the present ...
Russia was stable for the moment. Starinov had used the furor over Pedachenko’s actions to consolidate his government. Aid was flowing into Russia from the U.S.A. and Europe. The threat of a famine which would kill millions of innocent men, women, and children had been averted for now.
Was it worth Arthur and Elaine Steiner’s deaths?
No. Nothing was worth that.
But nothing could change what had happened, either.
Roger Gordian, mover and shaker among the world’s power elite, was powerless to alter the past, even a single second of it. He was just a lonely man with a guilty conscience, standing and waiting for a chartered plane to land, a plane full of the dead he would never be able to expunge from his conscience.
It hurt. God, it hurt.
What could he do about it?
How could he go on from here?
He searched the heavens for an answer.
For the first time he noticed the beauty of the sunset, now in its fullest glory. It was stunning. For a second he just emptied his mind and let himself bask in the beauty of it. It was, he realized, the first time he’d really looked at something and allowed himself to open his emotions to the experience since the Times Square bombing.
The world was still out there in all its imperfect beauty. It was still turning on its axis, and it would continue to do so, no matter what the humans—good, evil, or indifferent—who crawled on its surface did.
The future was his to make what he could of it.
It was a gift that Arthur or Elaine Steiner would have grabbed with both hands. He wished they were here with him, alive and happy, to do it. But they weren’t, so it was up to him.
And maybe that was the answer he was seeking.
He couldn’t change the past.
He could only embrace the future and give it his best.
It was time to begin again.
The plane he’d been waiting for, a gray-skinned IL-76, now bathed in the slanting golden light of the setting sun, taxied down the runway in front of him. Men waving fluorescent orange lights guided it to a halt, and more men rushed forward to chock the wheels. Someone driving a motorized staircase revved the engine and drove it forward, bringing it to a gentle halt inches from the door of the plane. The stairway driver turned the engine off, put on the brakes, and scrambled out to make the last few adjustments manually.