The Russian's Greed

amazed at her partner’s ability to not only readMandarin, but also her apparent ease in speaking the language.
“Okay, that’spretty impressive,” Gwynn said.
“Is only order fordinner. I did not negotiate a peace treaty.”
The delivery arrived,and the two devoured the dishes as if they hadn’t eaten in days.
Gwynn laid down herchopsticks. “I’ve waited as long as I can. I need you to tell methe plan for tomorrow night.”
Anya finished herdinner and spent twenty minutes explaining every detail of how, withJohnny-Mac’s help and a fake diamond, they would lure Volkov rightinto their hands.
Gwynn listenedintently. “That’s a brilliant plan, but what if he doesn’t takethe bait?”
“I am great actress.I will make certain he not only takes bait, but also he will swallowmy hook.”
“If anybody can pullit off, it’ll be you. I can’t wait to see the performance.”
“You will brief AgentMcIntyre, yes? He doesn’t like me, so it will be better for you todo it.”
Gwynn frowned. “Whatdo you mean he doesn’t like you? Everybody likes you. He’s justintimidated by you, that’s all.”
“Not everyone likesme. I have told you of the man who once loved me, yes?”
“Yeah, Chase Fulton.”
Anya let the memory ofthe man consume her momentarily. “Yes, him. He has now wife. Hername is Penny. She does not like me.”
Gwynn huffed. “Well,that’s kind of understandable, don’t you think? You’re a threatto her. She probably thinks she’s competing with you for Chase’saffection.”
“If this is what shethinks, she is wrong. In some ways, he is a simple man. He loves herand will not hurt her for me or anyone else. He is loyal to hisfriends and to her. This is admirable thing. Sometimes people talk ofhow they would change their past if this were possible. I would dothis. I would be loyal to him, and I would love him if I could turnback hands of clock.”
Seeing one of thedeadliest warriors on Earth open her soul and share such personalemotion left Gwynn mesmerized. “Does he know?”
“Does he know what?”Anya asked.
“Does he know you’d,you know, change things if you could do it all over again?”
“I do not know. Ihave never said this to him, but more than this, I have secret I cannever tell him. But every day I want to so badly it hurts inside me.”
Gwynn watched theRussian fight back the tears welling up in her eyes. “Secrets caneat at us like cancer. I know it’s not the same, but you can alwaystell me.”
“This I cannot tellanyone. You have responsibility to government, and you could not keepsecret. This is burden for me to carry alone.”
“I understand, andyou’re probably right. If I learn something about you that mightaffect the operation, it’s my duty to report it. I hope I neverhave to make that choice, though.”
Anya wiped away thesingle tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “I hope this,also.” A few seconds later, the Russian’s face showed no sign ofever having been in turmoil. “There is not fighting trainingtonight. Maybe we will do this tomorrow. For now, I must sleep.”
After Anya closed herdoor and slid beneath the cover, Gwynn stood at the living roomwindow, admiring the scene below. Times Square bustled with peoplewho looked like tiny scampering ants. Countless people went abouttheir lives, never looking up to see who was looking down on them.Gwynn and Anya were tasked with the awesome responsibility ofstopping a criminal element so violent and so contemptuous of law andcivility that it would eat away at the very foundations of the moraland financial stability of the United States until those foundationscrumbled beneath their feet. No one would ever know the sacrificesthey made to rid the world of such parasites. Turning from thewindow, Gwynn ached to know Anya's unspoken secret.
* * *
As promised, Patrickhad their car on the curb twenty minutes after Gwynn’s call thefollowing evening. The Town Car had been replaced by a black LexusLX-570. They slid onto the back seat, and someone closed the doorbehind them.
“What’s up, ladies?I’m Geno, and I’ll be doin’ the drivin’ tonight. Where weheaded?”
Gwynn excitedly pointedtoward the driver and whispered, “That’s the New Yorkaccent I was talking about.”
Anya nodded andappeared to be taking mental notes of the dialect. “We would liketo go to Matryoshka at eighty-eight Fulton Street.”
“Sure, no problem.You ladies just sit back and relax. I’ll have you there in notime.”
No time turned intoforty minutes in the Manhattan traffic.
Anya said, “Now itmakes sense why no one has car in New York.”
The driver shot a lookinto the mirror. “Yeah, the problem is them that do got cars don’tknow how to drive, and then there’s no place to park. So, thatbeing said, you’re better off without your own car.”
Gwynn whispered, “Yep,that’s definitely pure New York accent.”
Once inside Matryoshka,just past nine thirty, the hostess greeted them and led them to atable near the front. Anya scanned the room. Every table excepttheirs was occupied, but Viktor Volkov was nowhere in sight.
Anya turned to thehostess and spoke in Russian. “It is very noisy here. Is there aquieter part of the restaurant? We don’t mind waiting if we haveto.”
Pleased to hear hernative language, the hostess beamed. “Give me a minute, and I’llfind you someplace nice and quiet.”
Anya and Gwynn moved toan alcove near the kitchen to watch the hostess go in search of amore suitable table—hopefully, one in full view of Viktor’stable.
The hostess returnedand motioned for them to follow. “Poydem so mnoy.”
“She wants us tofollow her.”
“Yes, I caught that,”Gwynn said. “I’m learning.”
As they were ledthrough a curtain into a smaller dining room in the back, Anyaspotted Yuvelir immediately in the back corner of the room with hisback to the wall.
The hostess turned toGwynn. “This is good table for you, yes?”
Gwynn nodded. “Muchbetter. Spasibo.”
Anya had a briefconversation with the hostess in rapid-fire Russian before sittingdown facing Volkov. Once in her seat, she leaned toward Gwynn. “Shesays the stroganoff is no good, but the baked salmon with vegetablesis perfect.”
Gwynn continued herstudy of the menu. “I guess there are advantages to speakingRussian, even in New York City.”
“Only inside Russianrestaurant.”
Gwynn perused the menua little longer. “There are some nasty-sounding dishes on here.Boiled veal tongue with mushroom sauce? Are you