a Russian general. That unfortunate incident had been uncomfortable for the general’s mistress—and the general—at the time, but it was decidedly more uncomfortable for Dmitry now. He wondered how long he would have to suffer.
Lying on the sleeping bag, tired and miserable but somehow unable to sleep, Dmitry realized the futility of cursing and sighed instead. Outside, the wind growled noisily, plucking at his tent like an ill-tempered puppy. He considered another drink from his bottle, but his personal supplies were running low, and it would be three days before he could get another from the black marketers.
“Major Dolgov, are you awake?”
Dmitry sighed. “Yes, Lieutenant Chizkov, I am awake. If I were not, I would be now.” He’d already slid his hand over to the GSh-18 pistol under the sleeping bag. He had not rested since coming to this country until he had the weapon in his possession. He’d heard horror stories of what the Soviets suffered at the hands of the mujahideen in their own Afghanistan War in the 1980s. Now the Americans were paying the price for those monsters they had trained.
“What do you need?”
“It is the American, sir. I believe he is up to something.”
The American was Professor Thomas Lourds, the drinking comrade of Boris Glukov, the man Dmitry had been sent to Afghanistan to shepherd. Dmitry had been interested in Lourds. The professor was an internationally known figure, the author of The Bedroom Pursuits, and the supposed finder of Atlantis.
The man had sold many books about his adventures, and he’d done television specials about his discovery.
Dmitry had seen the television show while visiting his daughter. It had been on Ostankino Channel One late at night. Dmity hadn’t intended to stay up late and watch the program. His daughter and wife had been enthralled by Lourds.
Dmitry’s wife kept a copy of The Bedroom Pursuits in the bedroom. He had read parts of the book. He hadn’t had to read much to know that it wasn’t anything he would wish to read, and he was almost scandalized that his wife was reading it. But since it had come into her possession, she had tried things with him that she never had before.
So he let her keep the book.
“What is he up to?”
“He has gone to see Boris Glukov.”
“So? They are friends.”
Lieutenant Josef Chizkov cleared his throat and sounded embarrassed. “Well, I thought it was unusual, and we are posted out here to watch for unusual things.”
Actually, Dmitry wasn’t sure why they’d been sent to follow Boris Glukov. The man was an academic who had embraced the new capitalism and turned his back on Mother Russia. Other than that, he was just an overly educated man who had an unhealthy interest in the past.
“The American left the Frenchwoman in his tent.”
“Dominique is in his tent?”
“Yes.”
That interested Dmitry only slightly. The Frenchwoman was easily ten years younger than Lourds. He hadn’t made a play for her at the communal dinner they’d joined in with the Germans, but Dmitry had known she was interested in the American professor. Mostly because of that book Lourds had written. The bedroom one, not the Atlantis one.
“And he left her to go see Boris Glukov?”
“Yes.”
Dmitry sat up and reached for his pants, pistol already in hand. “Then we should go investigate what is going on.”
Even though this was a terrible assignment, Dmitry was not going to let a chance to get back in the good graces of Moscow pass. He pulled his pants on, tucked the pistol into the back of his waistband, and reached for his shirt.
***
Lourds walked up to Boris’s tent as quietly as possible. He played his flashlight beam over the front of the tent and leaned down. “Boris.” He had to repeat himself three times before his friend responded.
“My God, Thomas, is that you?”
“Yes.”
Boris groaned. “What do you want?”
“I figured it out.”
“You should be with Dominique. She’s young. She doesn’t need her sleep. I do.”
“I figured out the riddle.”
Inside the tent, everything was quiet for a moment, then Boris thrashed around. He shoved his head through the ten flaps. It was a massive head. Bushy and kind and large and gentle-featured, Boris was a man who was equal parts intimidation and kindness. Men often feared him when he scowled at them, but children always seemed to know his heart and that he would never harm them.
“You solved the riddle!” Boris sounded incredulous.
“Yeah.”
Boris let go the tent flaps, grabbed Lourds’s head between his hands, and kissed him between the eyes. “You solved