They learn from their mistakes, so that when they try again they will succeed.”
“And it doesn’t matter that hundreds will die.”
“This is history, Brano. It’s bigger than anyone. Even your dear Stalin understood this. A million dead is a statistic. What we’re doing is not about today; it’s about tomorrow.”
Brano looked into his glass, his cheeks warm. “It’s easy to talk about history in this hotel.”
“You understand, but you don’t want to. We fight in the same way. Your Ministry sacrifices agents all the time-not to win battles, but in order to win the war. Don’t underestimate the strength of collective memory. When the Russians marched into Budapest, the International Communist Party lost members in droves. It will happen again. And by the end they will have no support outside the countries they hold by force. The Empire will crumble, captive nation by captive nation.”
His father’s eyes were rapturous, reminding him of Klara’s when she left her church. There was no point debating with this man.
“So tell me, Brani. What made you decide to come over? Have you finally had enough?”
He shrugged.
“You’ve been a good soldier, Brano. I’ve seen your files. But every good soldier reaches a point where the lies and the double-dealing finally take their toll. They start to lose the sense of why they do what they do. They start to forget who they are.”
Brano forced a smile. “You’re not far from the truth.”
“And the loneliness?”
“I’m tired of that as well,” he said into his glass. “But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Like you said before, if I return home, it will be to a firing squad.”
“Don’t hate me, Brano.”
“I never hate my enemy.”
Andrezej Sev frowned, then began to say something that was interrupted by another knock at the door. Two raps, a pause, then one more. He smiled, patted Brano’s knee, and walked to the door as Brano stood, unsure. Then his father opened it.
Standing there, watching it open, Brano felt sure it would reveal Ludwig, or Karl, or maybe even the Lieutenant General. Nothing prepared him for Dijana, a hat in her hands, below a hopeful face.
Brano started to smile but didn’t. “What are you doing here.”
“I told her to come,” said Andrezej. “A dirty trick, I know,” he added as she rushed past him and grabbed Brano.
He thought he would fall, but he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around her waist and stared at his grinning father over her shoulder.
Her whispered voice in his ear was choked. “I think it’s not bad idea you come with me home, Brani.”
Brano kissed the hair over her ear. His father closed the door.
“Tomorrow,” he told her. He couldn’t hear his own voice because of the ringing in his ears. “We’ll drive somewhere tomorrow. Is that all right?”
She pulled back, blinking. “You mean it?”
“ Pa da,” he said, then kissed her lips. He couldn’t feel them, because only now had everything become clear, all the lies, and it numbed every part of him. He said, “We’ll go to the Salzkammergut.”
She nodded vehemently into his sore neck.
He kissed her again, then walked over to his father by the door. “You’re right, this wasn’t fair, but I understand. Everything.”
“I’ll do anything to keep you, Brani.”
He patted his father’s cheek. “Would you tell me the name of your inside man?”
Andrezej Sev smiled. “I don’t think you’ll demand that of me.”
“You don’t know me anymore, Tati.”
“I know people.”
Brano reached for the door. “This person, he’s reached the rank of lieutenant general, hasn’t he?”
The smile slid from his father’s face; then he pouted his lips. It was almost obscene in its falsity. “I’d heard you were one of the best, and it seems you really are. Ironic the ways your son can make you proud.”
“Are you going to let me leave this hotel?”
“I told you before. I’ll do anything to keep my son.”
Brano nodded. “Three o’clock.”
“At the Temple of Theseus.” His father leaned closer. “You’ll be happy,” he whispered. “As happy as anyone can be. Shirley’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Brano looked back at Dijana, who stood beside the desk, her hands fidgeting at her sides. He wasn’t sure his tingling feet would carry him all the way out of the hotel, but they did.
1 MAY 1967, MONDAY
On the drive to the airport, they ran into a parade. The participants were dressed in everyday work clothes, and spread throughout were young men and women with long hair, who reminded Brano of Dijana’s friend Wolfgang. A few held red flags with the hammer-and-sickle. One of them started a song, and that was when Brano remembered. Arise ye workers from your slumbers. Another red flag was raised. Arise ye prisoners of want. It was May Day, and even here the proletariat was showing its muscle. Cerny smiled, but Brano couldn’t.
The Flughafen Wien was long and modern, the departures area shining marble and glass. In the line to the Tis-Air check-in counter, Cerny set down his bag and turned to Brano.
“How do you feel?”
“All right, Comrade Colonel.”
“You’ve done great work, you realize this?”
“Thank you, Comrade Colonel.”
“For God’s sake, Brano, call me Laszlo.”
Brano smiled.
“You’ve earned this, you know.” He looked over Brano’s shoulder at the taxi stand just outside the glass wall. “By the time I get back and they realize you’re not with me, you could be anywhere. Well, anywhere except the Salzkammergut-that’s on the recording.”
Brano followed his gaze. “So could you.”
“Me?” Cerny laughed. “I’ve got a conspirator to nail against the wall!” The line shortened, and Brano moved the colonel’s bag for him.
“Well?”
Brano took a long breath and squinted at the sunlight pouring through the windows. “I need to step away a minute.”
“Sure,” said Cerny. “A minute.” He patted Brano’s shoulder, then, hesitantly, gave him a hug, smothering him in the familiar scent of stale cigarettes.
Brano walked across the marble floor without looking back, then turned a corner to a line of pay phones by the bathrooms-where, many months ago, he had knocked out a man. He slipped a coin into the closest phone and took a stiff card out of his pocket. On one side was that Raiffeisenbank account number; on the other, a telephone number.
“Please state your extension.”
“Two-zero-eight is the old extension,” said Brano. “But he should be in Accounting now. Ludwig.”
After some clicks, he heard two rings, then a man’s voice. “ Ja? ”
“It’s me.”
“It’s…” A sigh. “You fucking bastard.”
“Thank you for the hospitality, but I’m leaving now.”
“Do you know what you’ve done to my career, Brano?”
“Go to Schonbrunn, to the Roman Ruins. You’ll find the body of Filip Lutz.”
