The Russian's Greed

It should’ve been if I were a man. It’s one ofthose strange rules in English. I can’t remember exactly how itgoes, but if you’re describing a situation that doesn’t exist,the verb is were, not was, regardless of singular or plural.”
“This is ridiculousarbitrary rule. There are too many of these in English language.Russian is simple language and does not have so many rules.”
Ray laughed through amouthful of coffee. “Russian is anything but simple and has evenmore rules than English.”
Anya dismissed hisargument. “Whatever you say. You are wrong, but you are in charge,so I will not quarrel with you.”
“You’re learning,”he said. “Quarreling with me is never a good idea . . . unless, ofcourse, you want to be wrong.”
They finished breakfastwithout any more English lessons and moved to the living room.
Anya asked. “You havefor me nice apartment in New York, just like Miami, yes?”
Ray said, “I’ve notseen it, but I’m sure there’s no ocean view. We have an apartmentnear Times Square. It’s a two bedroom because I knew you’d insiston having Gwynn come along.”
“I cannot wait to seeit,” Anya said.
“That’s good,because you don’t have to wait long. All we need to do is outfityou with a new wardrobe and get you on a plane to New York.”
“I do not needairplane ride. I have Porsche.”
Ray lowered his chin.“It isn’t your Porsche. It belongs to the federal government.”
She scowled. “Becauseyou tricked me with handcuffs, I also belong to federal governmentuntil mission is completed. This means the Porsche and I belongtogether. You will get it for me.”
“It’s not thatsimple, I’m afraid. Besides, nobody has a car in New York. Thestreets are too congested.”
“This makes no sense.If no one has car, why are streets congested?”
Gwynn laid her hand onAnya’s forearm. “Don’t listen to him. He hates the city, buthe’s probably right. A car service is a lot better up there. ThePorsche would get banged up, and it’s way too sexy for that.”
Anya turned to Ray.“This makes sense, but you will keep Porsche for me so Gwynn and Iwill have it for next assignment, yes?”
Gwynn shot a looktoward Ray. “Next assignment?”
Ray pulled at thestitching on the arm of his recliner. “Yeah . . . about that. Ishould’ve told you, but you’ve been officially assigned toOperation Avenging Angel as a participating field agent.”
Gwynn’s eyes lit uplike fireworks on the Fourth of July, and she grabbed Anya’s hand.“Did you hear that? I’m officially assigned as a participatingfield agent with you.”
“What does thismean?”
Ray started to answer,but Gwynn cut him off. “It means I’m going with you to New YorkCity, and we’re going to paint the Big Apple red!”
Confusion consumedAnya’s face. “Uh, I do not understand this painting apple.”
Gwynn giggled. “Inthe roaring twenties, there were more horseracing venues in New Yorkthan anywhere in the country, so everybody went to the races. Thewinning horses were always given the biggest, juiciest apples afterthe race, so a newspaper reporter referred to New York City as theBig Apple, meaning the best prize. The name stuck, and in nineteenseventy-one, the mayor signed a proclamation officially giving thecity the nickname of the Big Apple. At least that’s what theytaught us in school.”
Anya still wore theconfusion like a veil. “But why would we paint it?”
“It’s just a figureof speech, girl. It means we’re going to have a good time in thecity.”
“In that case,”Anya said, “we are painters of city of New York. When do we leave?”
Ray chewed his bottomlip. “That’s the thing. You leave this afternoon as long as weget everything done in time.”
“Is perfect for me,but I do not have clothes or knives.”
Ray held up a fingerand stood. “Wait here.”
He returned with aheavy canvas bag and handed it to Anya.
She set the bag on herlap and slid back the zipper. Inside rested her collection ofcustom-made knives Bernard Claiborne had created for her at the CIAtechnical services lab. She pulled out a pair of throwing knives andcaressed them as if they were her own precious children. Next, afighting knife came out of the bag, and a huge smile came over herface. “This one is my favorite. Is perfect knife, and I want more.You can do this for me, no?”
Ray eyed the glisteningblade. “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”
“This means you willget for me more just like this one.”
Ray sighed. “Doesanyone ever get away with telling you no?”
“Sometimes, yes, butnot so many. I know this operation is important for you—and alsofor your career—so you will give to Gwynn and me everything weneed.”
“I’ll neverunderstand how women do it, but you always get what you want, andthere’s nothing the men of the world can do about it.”
Anya narrowed her eyes.“I want to go home, but I cannot because of you.”
Ray closed his eyes andspent a few seconds imagining his name above the door on someprestigious law firm somewhere nice and quiet. If I had onlylistened . . . Two decades practicing law surely would’ve beenbetter than twenty years in D.C. as a lawyer with a badge and gun.
He opened his eyes. “Iwalked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Anya nodded silently.Her bitter reminder that she was no one’s partner, but anindentured servant, sucked the air out of the room until Gwynn said,“The best thing about New York City is the shopping, and I thinkthe Justice Department owes you a brand-new wardrobe.”
Ray drummed his fingerson the arm of his chair. “When will you be ready to go, Gwynn?”
She directed her gazeaway from him as if he’d caught her stealing cookies from the jar.“Well, to tell the truth, I was sort of hoping I’d be goingalong, so I’m already packed.”
“Of course you are,”he said. “When we collected your knives from Miami, we brought backyour clothes, too, but I don’t think they’re exactly right forThe City. Perhaps we should make a run back to the FBI’s bargainbasement.”
Gwynn met Anya’s eyesand turned to her boss. “If it’s all the same to you, New Yorkclothes should be bought in New York.”
“Fine, but we don’thave much time to waste. Volkov is a creature of habit. His businesstrips to wherever he goes always last less than