The Russian's Greed

a week, and he’salways back in The City in time for Friday night dinner atMatryoshka.”
Anya asked. “Whattime does he have dinner?”
“Usually about nine.”
She stood. “Good. Youwill make for us reservations at Matryoshka at nine thirty tomorrownight. I have plan to make Yuvelir come to us, but we will need alsoJohnny-Mac and fake diamond ring.”

5
TSELYYNOVYY MIR
(A WHOLE NEW WORLD)
Thethree-and-a-half-hour train ride from Washington’s Union Station toPenn Station in Manhattan put Anya and Gwynn in New York City justbefore 3:30 that afternoon. The FBI courier delivered their clothesand personal belongings and had them neatly stored in their newapartment, just off Times Square, before the duo stepped from theYellow Cab and into the assignment that was everything their previousmission in Miami was not.
The first differencebetween the two operations greeted them as they climbed the fivesteps from the sidewalk and into the lobby of their new temporaryhome. “Good afternoon, ladies. I am Patrick, one of your doormen.”
The sixty-somethingIrishman dressed in tails and white gloves held the ornate door forthem, and the DOJ special agent said, “Thank you, Patrick. I’mGwynn, and this is Anya. We’re in seventeen-oh-one.”
Patrick tipped his hat.“Yes, ma’am. I’m aware. Three gentlemen were here earlier todrop off a few of your things.”
“Oh, good. We lookforward to seeing the apartment. Arrangements were made sight unseen,so we certainly hope it lives up to the pictures.”
Patrick situated hisblack hat back on his head. “I’m certain you’ll not bedisappointed.” He offered each of them a card. “You’ll find allof our numbers on there. If there’s anything we can do for you atany hour, never hesitate to ring.”
Anya spoke for thefirst time. “You can get for us car service, yes?”
“Of course. If you’llonly give us half an hour notice when you can, we’ll beJohnny-on-the-spot for you. It usually takes less than a quarterhour, but this is the city. That accent of yours . . . Might that beGeorgian?”
Anya showed a look ofsurprise. “That is excellent guess. I am from Georgia.”
“I thought so. Mebrother’s wife is Georgian . . . from Kutaisi, if memory serves me.Whereabouts would you be from?”
“Kutaisi is long wayfrom my home. I live in city of Athens, about eighty kilometers eastof Atlanta.”
Patrick hesitated andthen gave her a Santa Claus belly laugh. “You’re a sharp one,ain’t you?”
He was still laughingwhen the elevator doors closed on the Fed and the Georgian.
On the ride to theseventeenth floor, Gwynn said, “That was funny.”
Anya gave one satisfiednod. “It was American humor. They say you have mastered newlanguage when you understand jokes.”
Gwynn smiled. “Yes,they do say that. Patrick was nice, don’t you think?”
“Yes, he was nice,but he is not handsome man like Michael, the doorman in Miami.”
Gwynn raised hereyebrows. “I’ll give you that. He’s more like somebody’sgrandfather, but I like him.”
The doors of theelevator opened into a wide foyer with a long, marble-top tableagainst one wall and a gilded mirror hanging above it.
“Push and hold buttonto keep door open.”
Gwynn did as Anyainstructed, but she didn’t know why. The Russian moved slowlythrough the elevator car, inspecting the mirror from every angle.
“Stay here, and holdbutton.” Anya stepped from the car and turned the corner into thehallway. Moving left and right, she eyed the mirror carefully beforereturning to the elevator, then slid her finger onto the hold button.“Now, you do it.”
“Do what?” Gwynnasked.
“Look into mirrorfrom every position inside elevator and remember what you see. Afterthis, move to hallway and look back into mirror from many angles.”
Gwynn did as sheinstructed and returned to the elevator. “Okay, I did it, but why?”
Anya stepped into thefoyer. “Mirror is bending of eyes to look around corners. Yourbrain has now picture of everything in mirror from every angle. Ihope we do not need this knowledge, but it will give to us advantageif some person comes for us in building.”
Gwynn examined thefoyer and hallway again. “What an amazing mind you have. I don’tknow if I’ll ever think like you.”
Anya took Gwynn’sarm. “It is my hope for you that you do not have to think like me.World is dangerous place for people like me. It is better to livewithout such dangers in your life.”
Gwynn led the way tothe apartment. “I think it was Sun Tzu who said, ‘The best way toguarantee peace is to always be prepared for war.’”
“This is a goodphilosophy, I think.”
By Gwynn’s count, thedoor to the apartment lay eleven strides from the foyer and offeredno view of the mirror. The doorframe held no hairs, but the deadboltmade a scratching sound as she turned the key. The entrance hallwaywas seven feet long and opened into the living room with the kitchenon the left and a short hallway to the two bedrooms on the right.
Gwynn examined thespace. “It’s a lot smaller than the Miami apartment, but it’snice.”
Anya pulled the blindsaside and looked down on Times Square. “Is more than adequate, butthere is no view of ocean.”
Gwynn joined her at thewindow. “You’re right. There’s no ocean, but it’s still kindof pretty. I wonder how it’ll look at night.”
They inventoried theapartment and discovered the FBI couriers had chosen bedrooms foreach of them. Anya’s few clothes and knives were in the firstbedroom, while Gwynn’s items were farther down the hallway. It wasthe arrangement Anya would’ve chosen, but she wondered if thecouriers gave it any real thought.
Gwynn stepped intoAnya’s room. “This is nice, and you’ve got a private bath. Minehas a door from my room and the hallway.”
“If you like this onebetter, we can change, but for now, it is safer if I am closer tofront door.”
Gwynn peeked out thewindow. “No, I’m fine the way it is, and honestly, I like youbeing between me and the front door.”
Anya sat on the edge ofher bed. “You know the city, yes?”
Gwynn joined her on thebed. “Yeah. I went to college and law school at Columbia inMorningside Heights. That’s near Harlem at Broadway and Hundred andSixteenth Street.”
“This is good school,Columbia?”
Gwynn chuckled. “Yeah,you could say that. I was really lucky to get in. Like I told youbefore, my dad was a teacher, and Mom was a paralegal, so theycouldn’t afford to send me to Columbia.