Black Ops

Lora and Sof’ya to the bosom of those who love them” and for the “presence at our table and in our lives of Charley and Lester and Alfredo and Janos, who have lived the words of our Lord and Savior that there is no greater love than being willing to lay down one’s life for another.”

At that point, Svetlana had grasped his hand—not groped him—under the table, and he had looked at her and seen tears running down her cheeks.

Then they had moved into the Great Room where the Novogodnaya Yolka had been set up. Servants dressed as Father Frost and his granddaughter, Snegurochka the Snow Girl, danced to the music of a balalaika quartet. The balalaikas were of different sizes, the largest as big as a cello.

Charley was a little ashamed that his first reaction to this was to decide that Father Frost’s costume was designed for Santa Claus, the Snow Girl’s for Mrs. Santa Claus, and both had probably been made in China by Buddhists.

He was touched, and finally admitted it.

The children—Elena clutching Ivan the Terrible to her—sang several Christmas songs, following which Father Frost and Snegurochka danced out of the room, to dance back in a few moments later heading a column of servants, who deposited gaily wrapped boxes under the tree.

The children, Svetlana told him, would get their presents in the morning.

Charley at this point, possibly assisted by the champagne that had been flowing since they sat down for dinner, came to the philosophical conclusion that maybe the Russians had the better idea, passing out the presents at New Year’s rather than at Christmas, which was, after all, supposed to be a Christian holiday—meaning Holy Day—not one of gluttony under Santa Claus’s benevolent eye.

He shared this observation with Svetlana, who laid her hand on his cheek and kissed him.

At five minutes to midnight, everybody was out on the pier, trailed by servants carrying an enormous grandfather clock and pushing a cart holding half a dozen bottles of champagne.

The clock was set up, the hands adjusted, and at midnight began to bong its chimes.

Pevsner counted loudly downward from twelve.

As the last bong was fading, there was a dull explosion, which startled Castillo, followed by another and another and another.

He had been enormously relieved when the first of what turned out to be a fifteen-minute display of fireworks went off.

And enormously pleased when Svetlana had kissed him, as Anna was kissing her husband.

The celebration today was for what Pevsner described as “the people.”

It was held in the Great Room, which Castillo, perhaps because too much champagne always gave him debilitating hangovers, decided had been converted into a throne room for Tsar Aleksandr I, Empress Anna, Grand Duchess Svetlana, the Imperial Children, and visiting nobility, such as himself, Corporal Bradley, and Colonel Munz.

There were no actual thrones, but the chair in which Pevsner sat had a higher back than that of his wife, which in turn was higher than those of everybody else. Janos was not around, and Castillo wondered where he was.

Father Frost and Snegurochka were back, as was the balalaika quartet. This time Father Frost and Snegurochka were standing by an enormous stack of packages. The quartet began to play. Janos appeared, ushered into the room perhaps eighty people, ranging from bearded elders to children, and then walked up to Father Frost.

Father Frost took a small package from the stack and gave it to Pevsner, who unwrapped it, opened a small box, and took from it a wristwatch, which he then held up for everybody to see. There was a murmur of approval from “the people.”

Next, Father Frost gave Anna a package, and a moment later, she held up a string of pearls for everyone to see. Next came Svetlana, who also got a string of pearls.

Castillo had just decided that the kids had gotten their presents earlier. He looked at Elena and saw there was a string of pearls around her neck he hadn’t noticed before.

Now what?

Father Frost handed him a small box.

Jesus Christ, a Rolex.

“Hold it up, hold it up!” Svetlana hissed.

He held it up.

Corporal Bradley got a small package and moments later held up his Rolex for the approval of the people.

Colonel Alfredo Munz got his Rolex.

Well, Pevsner probably gets a discount if he buys them by the dozen.

What did he say? “I took five percent of a lot more than a billion dollars’ worth of gold, Charley. And about twice that much of platinum.”

And finally, Janos got his Rolex, and then began reading from a list of names.

An old man left the group, approached the throne, literally tugged at his hair in front of Pevsner. Pevsner nodded. Father Frost handed the old man a package. He opened it. It contained a small, flat-screen television. The people murmured their approval.

Janos called out another name, and a young woman approached the throne, and tugged at her hair, then took her package from Father Frost.

It was more than an hour before the last of the people filed out of the throne room carrying their New Year’s presents.

Tsar Aleksandr rose from his throne.

“This will displease Anna,” he said. “But despite the hour, I am going to have a drink. That always wears me out. But the people expect it of me. You’ll join me, of course?”

This is where I am supposed to say, “Alek, neither Lester nor I can accept a gift like those Rolexes.”

Castillo saw that Lester was examining the new watch on his wrist.

What the hell. He saved Pevsner’s life.

“Just one,” Castillo said. “And then I’m going to take a nap. I have to fly in the morning.”

“Happy New Year, Charley!” Pevsner said, touching his glass of vodka from an ice-encrusted bottle to Castillo’s glass.

“Happy New Year,” Castillo said. “Alek, those people. They were Russian, right? Or at least most of them?”

Pevsner nodded.

“Where did they come from?”

“Russia,” Pevsner said, obviously delighted with himself. When he saw the look on Castillo’s face, he said, “I learned that from you. If I do that to Anna, she usually throws something at me.”

“How’d they get here?”

“They’re Jews, most of them. They have worked for people in the Oprichina for many years. When the Communists decided to let some of the Jews leave to go to Israel, we first warned them they probably wouldn’t like it, and then we arranged for them to go first.

“They didn’t like it. The culture shock, the climate—what is it you Americans say? ‘One more goddamned sunny day in L.A.’?; Tel Aviv is worse—what they saw of the future, the suicide bombers. They wanted to leave, but they didn’t want to go back to Russia. So I arranged for them to come here. One day the children will join all the Russian Jews in Argentina. There are forty thousand Jewish gauchos here, originally from Eastern Europe. Did you know that?”

Castillo nodded. “I’d heard that.”

“For now the parents work for me.”

“Alek, I don’t know what to say about that Rolex.”

“How about ‘thank you’?”

“You have learned, haven’t you?”