it, but the damage was done, and it was extensive.
Since I was standing anyway, I took the opportunity to walk around the big room and check out the goods. Boris was happy to tell me about the icons and the lacquered wooden boxes, and the porcelains, and all his other treasures.
He said to me, 'These are all antiques and quite valuable.'
'Which is why you have such good security,' I suggested.
'Yes, that's right.' He saw me looking at him, so he added, 'And, of course, the most valuable thing here is me.' He smiled, then further explained, 'In this business one can make enemies.'
'As in your last business,' I reminded him.
'And yours as well, Mr. Corey.'
I suggested, 'Maybe we should both look for another business.'
He thought about that and said, correctly, 'The old business will always follow you.'
This was my opening to say, 'Regarding that, I have some bad news, and some even worse news,' but I wanted to get a better measure of this man first. I mean, I wasn't here to simply give him a warning; I was here to get some help with our mutual problem.
I thought back again to my and Kate's hour with Boris at CIA Headquarters, and I recalled that I had trouble reconciling this nice man with the man who had trained Asad Khalil for money. Kate and I were products of our upbringing and backgrounds-middle class, cop and FBI agent-and Boris's morally weightless world of international intrigue, double-dealing, and assassination was not how we lived or worked. The CIA, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem with Boris's past. He was part of their world, and the CIA made no moral judgments; they were just happy to have him as their singing defector.
Boris asked me, 'What are you thinking about?'
I told him, 'Our meeting in Langley.'
'I enjoyed that.' He added, 'I was sure I would see you again-if nothing happened to you.'
'Well, nothing too fatal has happened to me, and here I am.'
I let that hang and continued my walk around the room. On one wall was an old Soviet poster showing a caricature of Uncle Sam, who looked less Anglo-Saxon and more Jewish for some reason. Sam was holding a money bag in one hand and an atomic bomb in the other. His feet were planted astride a globe of the world, and under his boots were the necks of poor native people from around the world. The Soviet Union-CCCP-was surrounded by American missiles, all pointing toward the Motherland. I couldn't read the Russian caption, and the iconography was perhaps a bit subtle for me, but I think I got it.
He saw me studying the poster and said, 'A bit of nostalgia.'
I replied, 'Nostalgia is not what it used to be.' I suggested, 'Let me get you a Norman Rockwell print.'
He laughed, then said, 'Some of my American friends still find that poster offensive.'
'Can't imagine why.'
He reminded me, 'The Cold War is over. You won.' He informed me, 'Those posters, if they are original, are quite expensive. That one cost me two thousand dollars.'
I pointed out, 'Not a lot of money for a successful entrepreneur.'
He agreed, 'Yes, I am now a capitalist pig with a money bag in my hand. Fate is strange.'
He lit another cigarette but this time offered me one, which I declined. He asked me, 'How did you find me?'
'Boris, I work for the FBI.'
'Yes, of course, but my friends in Langley assured me that all information about me is classified.'
I replied, 'This may come as a shock to you, but the CIA lies.'
We both got a smile out of that one.
Then he got serious again and said, 'And any information about me is on a need-to-know basis.' He took a drag and asked, 'So, what is your need-to-know, Mr. Corey?'
I replied, 'Please call me John.'
'John. What is your need-to-know?'
'Well, I'm glad you asked.' I changed the subject and my tactics and said, 'Hey, I'm drinking on an empty stomach.'
He hesitated, then replied, 'Of course. I have forgotten my manners.'
'No, I should have called.' I suggested, 'Don't go out of your way. Maybe call for a pizza.'
He went to the phone on a side table and assured me, 'No trouble. In fact, you may have noticed this is a restaurant.'
'Right.' Boris had a little sarcastic streak, which shows intelligence and good mental health, as I have to explain often to my wife.
Boris was speaking on the phone intercom in Russian, and I heard the word 'zakuskie,' which I know from my pal Ivan means appetizers. Some words stick in your mind. Of course, Boris could also be saying, 'Put knockout drops in the borscht.' Before he hung up, I asked, 'Can they do pigs-in-a-blanket?'
He glanced at me, then added to his order, saying, 'Kolbasa en croute.'
What?
Anyway, he hung up and said to me, 'Why don't you sit?'
So I sat, and we both relaxed a bit, sipping vodka and enjoying the moment before I got down to what he knew was not going to be pleasant.
Boris said to me, 'I have forgotten to ask you-how is that lovely lady you were with?'
In this business, as I said, you never reveal personal information, so I replied, 'I still see her at work, and she's well.'
'Good. I enjoyed her company. Kate. Correct? Please give her my regards.'
'I will.'
He smiled and said to me, 'I had the impression that you and she were more than colleagues.'
'Yeah? Hey, do you think I missed a shot at that?'
He shrugged and gave me a hot tip. 'Women are difficult to understand.'
'Really?' For fun, I said, 'I think she married a CIA guy.'
'A poor choice.'
'That's what I think.'
'As bad as a KGB guy.'
I smiled and asked him, 'Are you married?'
He replied without enthusiasm, 'Yes.'
'Russian gull?'
'Excuse me?'
'Russian girl?'
'Yes.'
'Kids?'
'No.'
'So, how did you two meet?'
'Here.'
'Right. I'll bet this is a good place to meet women.'
He laughed, but didn't respond. He asked me, 'And you?'
'Never married.'
'And why is that, if I may ask?'
'No one ever asked me.'
He smiled and informed me, 'I think you are supposed to ask them.'
'Well, that's not going to happen.'
Boris said to me, 'I am remembering now your sense of humor.' He hesitated, then said, 'If you wish, I can send a woman home with you.'
'Really? Like, take-out?'
He was really enjoying my humor, and he laughed and said, 'Yes, I will put her in a container with your leftovers.'
