Blair was entranced, unable to trust herself to speak as tears formed in her eyes. At that moment she felt a very long way from home and, besides, no man had ever talked to her as Vronsky was doing now. She smiled and closed her eyes, anxious not to show the handsome Ukrainian how deeply his words had affected her.

Vronsky used the moment to steal a glance to his right. Anna Brezhneva, his attractive female companion, had already focused on another, younger American, Sergeant Jim Rooney. “I am study English at the University. I have girl friends who love to meet your friends.” She put her hand on his arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “Is that good expression, Ji . . . im? You teach me if I say it bad?”

Rooney grinned. “I like this idea. And you say it real well . . .”

Vronsky looked around the group and knew it was time.

“I tell you what,” he suggested with a broad smile, addressing them all. “We have so much to thank you for. Why don’t we all have dinner together? My cousin owns a great restaurant not far from here and he’ll look after you like family. This is no tourist restaurant. This is where only locals go. You can’t come to Kharkiv and not try our local food. You won’t eat better holubtsi anywhere.”

The younger Americans looked at Trapnell for guidance. He hesitated, impressed at the offer but not quite sure.

Vronsky continued, “And, as our honored guests, it is of course our gift to you.”

Trapnell looked at the others, who grinned back. It is a rare soldier who can refuse the offer of high-quality, free food. “Sure. Why not? But we can’t stay late.”

“Don’t worry. There’ll be no problem. The restaurant is on the east side of the city and on the way back to your barracks. We’ll eat, have fun, and get you back to your base in plenty of time.”

Anna Brezhneva waved her phone at Vronsky and shrugged, as if she was asking him an obvious question.

Vronsky smiled. “Anna wants to know if you would like her to invite her girlfriends to make for equal numbers.”

The American men gave him a thumbs up, while Laura Blair sighed tolerantly.

“Make the call,” he said to Brezhneva, and she immediately starting talking into her mobile phone.

Vronsky summoned the waiter and demanded the bill. As he handed over 500 hryvnia, a couple of Mercedes taxis cruised past.

Brezhneva jumped up and waved them down. If the Americans noticed the fact they were the only two taxis in the square, then they gave no sign of being unduly worried.