He turned the wheel, braked, spun the Zhiguli around, and sped up the ramp directly at the grinning grill of the Moskvich.
“Bastards!” he screamed.
The Moskvich turned abruptly to avoid him, lost control, and smashed into the guardrail. The militia car taking up the chase behind the Moskvich followed the Moskvich like a dog latched onto a rabbit’s tail, the driver thinking this was the only way to avoid the maniac coming up the ramp in the wrong direction. The militia car slammed into the back of the Moskvich, the sound of the impact making Lazlo look back to see if there was an explosion. No explosion. But both cars were disabled.
Lazlo drove north two blocks so that north would be the direction radioed to the KGB and militia headquarters. But once out of sight, he took side streets back to Friendship of Peoples Boulevard and sped onto the bridge across the Dnieper River. As the Zhiguli crested the bridge at high speed, he saw in his rearview mirror, through the haze of the city, flashing lights of multiple militia cars converging at the overpass crossing over Friendship of Peoples Boulevard.
Leaving Kiev, on the east side of the river, traffic became lighter.
During the frantic chase, he had shifted in the seat, his jacket twisting sideways, pressing his Makarov uncomfortably against his breastbone. He adjusted himself in the seat, listening to Kiev militia frequencies on the radio. A broadcast repeated a description of his Zhiguli, but the broadcast focused on Kiev west of the river.
There were thousands of Zhigulis the same turd-green color as his Zhiguli. He would get to Visenka, he was certain of it. But what would he do about the KGB men watching the house?
The message from Tamara by way of the bearded poet told him Juli was in danger. Had the KGB contacted Tamara again? Or did Tamara have underground contacts? And what about Komarov, who flew all the way to Moscow to question Nina, yet did not bother to question Juli? He knew where she was. His men were watching her.
Speeding to Visenka, Lazlo recalled the last time he visited.
There had been a KGB faded red Zhiguli, then a KGB black Volga, first one then the other following him before taking up positions down the street from Aunt Magda’s. Aunt Magda’s street a dead-end.
No way out if they tried to stop him from taking Juli…
The farmer’s field at the end of the street. He’d seen the twin ruts of its trail leading into the field. The sign for Visenka was ahead, so he turned east onto a gravel road peppered with ruts that shook the Zhiguli violently. The steering wheel was transformed into a frenzied serpent trying to escape his grasp. With any luck he would be able to see Aunt Magda’s house, with its spring flowers and its arbor, across the fields.
In spite of the sun shining through colorful curtains, the house was a prison. Like her unborn child, Juli could not escape. This morning she had gone out to look at the flowers. From the front of the house, spying through the arbor, she looked up the street and saw the black car. While she watched, another black car with two men arrived, and the first car drove away.
Aunt Magda was at the stove, putting cut-up vegetables into soup for lunch. Juli wondered if Lazlo would come for lunch again.
Falling in love so soon after Mihaly’s death tormented her. She tried to tell herself it was fear, her need to latch onto someone strong.
Aunt Magda said she was being foolish, that it was natural to desire such a man. Aunt Magda said his knowledge of the baby made their feelings for one another even more powerful.
“These are untainted vegetables,” said Aunt Magda, turning from her soup pot. “I went to the market before the Chernobyl explosion. I have enough for another week, and then I’ll use the canned vegetables I put up last summer.”
Aunt Magda came to the table and sat across from Juli. She put down her paring knife and lowered her head, mimicking Juli.
“Don’t be sad, Juli.”
“There isn’t much to be happy about except being with you.
People forced from their homes, Marina and Vasily and his mother and sister at a collective somewhere, Pripyat probably abandoned forever, all the others who were at the plant. There’s always someone on duty at the building where I worked. I keep wondering what happened to them.”
Aunt Magda frowned. “Pripyat abandoned forever? Is such a thing possible?”
Juli reached out and touched her aunt’s hand. “Knowing what I know about radiation, it’s more than possible. The levels of radiation causing Mihaly and others to receive lethal doses in so short a time, the half-life of plutonium. And now, here sits a sad fool because the brother of her dead lover is not here.”
Aunt Magda grasped both Juli’s hands. “Finding a friend in a troubled world is not foolish. During the war… God forgive me, I said I’d never tell. Your uncle was my cousin. Why do you think we had no children?”
Juli stared into her aunt’s tear-filled eyes. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
Aunt Magda let go of Juli’s hands, took out a handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. “We were cousins, but we loved one another. And with war, love was the only thing left. Instead of wondering about those you cannot help, perhaps you can help Lazlo.”
“You’re right. I should be doing something instead of sitting here waiting for him to visit.” Juli stood. “Mihaly is dead, the Ukraine is coming apart, and I sit here getting fatter every day with his brother’s child!”
“Please don’t shout,” scolded Aunt Magda. “You’re not getting fatter. You’re not even showing. Besides, a baby growing inside is not called fat. It’s a human being!”
Aunt Magda stood and went to the kitchen sink. “It’s your baby.
You’re responsible for it. If a man loves you, responsibility is shared.”
“Is it love, Aunt Magda? We’ve known one another only a few days.”
Aunt Magda looked out the window. “If you keep asking about it over and over, it’s love. It’s love!”
“I hope he’s coming today.”
“He is.”
“What?”
“He’s coming.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s in the backyard.”
Aunt Magda opened the door, and when Lazlo came into the kitchen, Juli could see by the look on his face something was terribly wrong. It was the same look he had before he told her about Mihaly’s death. She ran to Lazlo and hugged him.
“We don’t have much time,” whispered Lazlo in her ear. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”
Juli let go of him, looked past him into the backyard. “Why do I have to leave?”
“I don’t have time to go into details. The KGB and the militia are after me. I was followed, but I lost them. It can’t be long before they decide I’ve come here. The head of the KGB in Kiev has dreamed up a plot involving your connection to Mihaly. We must leave now.”
Aunt Magda ran from the kitchen. “I’ll get a coat and your bag.”
“What about Aunt Magda?” asked Juli. “If they come and I’m not here…”
“I know.”
Aunt Magda came back with the coat and bag. “I already washed the clothes and repacked them. With a car out there night and day, I felt something would happen.”
Lazlo turned to Aunt Magda, held her shoulders. “Listen. This is important. After we leave, I want you to watch the street. If someone comes, I want you to call the local militia immediately and tell them I took Juli away. Tell them you protested but were unable to stop me.”
Aunt Magda took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. “No.
You’re trying to protect me. I won’t tell them anything. I’m old. I don’t care what they do to me.”
Juli touched Lazlo’s arm, but Lazlo continued holding Aunt Magda’s shoulders and staring at her.
“It’s not for you,” said Lazlo. “It’s to get them off the trail, a diversion. You must call the local militia. If someone comes, call immediately and say we just left. If no one comes, call the militia exactly one hour after we leave. Do you understand?” Lazlo shook Aunt Magda’s shoulders gently. “Do you?”
“I understand. Call if I see them coming. But if an hour goes by and no one comes, call anyway. But…”
“There’s no time to explain. It’s for Juli’s safety and my safety.
