ones back home who could be made to suffer.
"Go on," Sosh said.
Kokorov was a drunk. He had always been one, but in his youth, it almost worked to his advantage. He was strong and smart and drink made him particularly vicious. He obeyed, like a dog. Now the years had crept up on him. His children were grown and had no use for him.
His wife had left him years ago. He was pathetic, but again, he was the past. They had not liked each other, true, but there was still a bond. Kokorov had grown loyal to Sosh. So Sosh kept him on the payroll.
"They found a body in those woods," Kokorov said.
Sosh closed his eyes. He had not expected this and yet he was not totally surprised. Pavel Copeland wanted to unearth the past. Sosh had hoped to stop him. There are things a man is better off not knowing.
Gavrel and Aline, his brother and sister, had been buried in a mass grave.
No headstone, no dignity. It had never bothered Sosh. Ashes to ashes and all that. But sometimes he wondered. Sometimes he wondered if Gavrel would rise up one day, point an accusing finger at his little brother, the one who'd stolen an extra bite of bread more than sixty years ago. It was just a bite, Sosh knew. It hadn't changed anything. And yet Sosh still thought about what he'd done, the stolen bite of bread, every morning of his life.
Was that how this was too? The dead crying out for vengeance?
"How did you learn of this?" Sosh asked.
"Since Pavel's visit, I've been watching the local news," Kokorov said. "On the Internet. They reported it." Sosh smiled. Two old KGB toughies using the American Internet to gather information-ironic.
"What should we do?" Kokorov asked.
"Do?"
"Yes. What should we do?"
"Nothing, Alexei. It was a long time ago."
"Murder has no statute of limitations in this country. They will investigate."
"And find what?" Kokorov said nothing. "Its over. We have no agency or country to protect anymore." Silence. Alexei stroked his chin and looked off. "What is it?" Alexei said, "Do you miss those days, Sosh?" "I miss my youth," he said. "Nothing more." "People feared us," Kokorov said. "They trembled when we passed." "And what, that was a good thing, Alexei?" His smile was a horrible thing, his teeth too small for his mouth, like a rodents. "Don't pretend. We had power. We were gods."
"No, we were bullies. We were not gods-we were the dirty hench men of the gods. They had the power. We were scared, so we made everyone a little more scared. That made us feel like big men-terrorizing the weak."
Alexei waved a dismissive hand in Sosh's direction. "You're get ting old." "We both are." "I don't like this whole thing coming back." "You didn't like Pavel coming back either. It's because he reminds you of his grandfather, doesn't he?" "No." "The man you arrested. The old man and his old wife." "You think you were better, Sosh?" "No. I know I wasn't." "It wasn't my decision. You know that. They were reported, we took action." "Exactly," Sosh said. "The gods commanded you to do it. So you did. Do you still feel like such a big man?" "It wasn't like that." "It was exactly like that." "You'd have done the same."
"Yes, I would have."
"We were helping a higher cause."
"Did you ever really buy that, Alexei?"
"Yes. I still do. I still wonder if we were so wrong. When I see the dangers freedom has wrought. I still wonder."
"I don't," Sosh said. "We were thugs."
Silence.
Kokorov said, "So what happens now-now that they found the body?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe more will die. Or maybe Pavel will finally get the chance to face his past."
"Didn't you tell him that he shouldn't do that-that he should let the past stay buried?"
"I did," Sosh said. "But he didn't listen. Who knows which one of us will be proven right?"
Doctor McFadden came in and told me that I was lucky, that the bullet went through my side without hitting any internal organs. It always made me roll my eyes when the hero gets shot and then goes on with his life as though nothing ever happened. But the truth is, there are plenty of gunshot wounds that do heal like that. Sitting in this bed wasn't going to make it any better than resting at home.
"I'm more worried about the blow to your head," he said. "But I can go home?" "Let's let you sleep awhile,