opposite number at FSB, and by extension me." He twirled the pen deftly. "Tell me, then, is there a reason why I should listen to what you have to say, since your boss has sent you here instead of coming himself?"
"I did not come at the behest of Viktor Cherkesov. In fact, he has no idea I'm here, and I'd rather it stayed that way." Karpov placed the cell phone with the incriminating evidence against Bukin on the desk between them and withdrew his hand. "Also, I belong to no man, Cherkesov included."
Imov's gaze remained on Karpov's face. "Indeed. Since Cherkesov stole you away from Nikolai, I must say that's welcome news." He tapped the end of the pen against the desktop. "And yet I can't help but take that statement with a grain of salt."
Karpov nodded. "Perfectly understandable."
When his eyes moved to the cell phone, Imov's followed. "And what have we here, Boris Illyich?"
"Part of FSB-2 is rotten," Karpov said slowly and distinctly. "It has to be cleansed, the sooner the better."
For a moment, Imov did nothing; then he set down the fountain pen, reached out for the cell phone, and turned it on. For a long while after that, there was no sound whatsoever in the study, not even, Karpov noted, the hushed footfalls of the secretarial and support staffs that must infest the place. Possibly, the study was soundproof as well as electronic-bug-proof.
When Imov was finished, he held the cell phone precisely as he had held the fountain pen, as if it were a weapon.
"And who, Boris Illyich, do you envision purging the FSB-2 of its rot?"
"Whomever you choose."
At this response, President Imov threw his head back and laughed. Then, wiping his eyes, he reached into a drawer, opened an ornate silver-clad humidor, and withdrew two Havana cigars. Handing one to Karpov, he bit the end off his and lit it with a gold lighter that had been a gift from the president of Iran. When Karpov produced a book of matches, Imov laughed again and pushed the gold lighter across the desk.
Colonel Boris Karpov found the lighter extraordinarily heavy. He flicked on the flame and luxuriously drew the cigar smoke into his mouth.
"We should begin, Mr. President."
Imov regarded Karpov through a veil of smoke. "No time like the present, Boris Illyich." He swung around, contemplating the onion domes of Red Square. "Clean the fucking place out - permanently."
It was ironic, when you thought about it, Soraya thought. Despite having multiple eyes - she could not for the life of her remember how many - scorpions couldn't see well, depending on tiny cilia on their claws to sense movement and vibration. At the moment that meant the rise and fall of her chest.
No-Name watched the scorpion with a mixture of impatience and contempt as it sat there, unmoving. Clearly, it didn't know where it was or what it wanted to do. That's when he took his pen and jammed the end of it onto the scorpion's head. The sudden attack startled and infuriated it. The tail twitched and struck, and Soraya gave a little gasp. No-Name used the pen to prod the creature back into its cage. He swung the door closed and latched it.
"Now," No-Name said, "either we wait for the venom to take effect, or you tell us where to find Arkadin."
"Even if I knew," Soraya said, "I wouldn't tell you."
He frowned. "You're not going to change your mind."
"Go screw yourself."
He nodded, as if having anticipated her stubbornness. "It will be instructive to see how long you last after the scorpion stings you eight or nine times."
With a languid pass of his hand, he signaled the scorpion handler, who unlatched the cage's door and was about to open it when, with a deafening report, he was blown backward in a welter of blood and bone. Soraya turned her head and saw him sprawled on the ground, his entire forehead gone. More shots were fired, and when she turned back the other men lay on the ground. No-Name was clutching his ruined right shoulder, biting his lip in pain. A pair of legs ending in dusty boots came into her field of vision.
"Who - ?" Soraya looked up, but between the first symptoms of the scorpion venom and the sun in her eyes she couldn't see. Her heart seemed about to pump out of her chest, and her entire body was throbbing as if with a very high fever. "Who - ?"