It was a fairly simple playground, as these places went. A swing set. A sandbox. A play structure with a few slides. Still the children running around, yelling and laughing, didn't seem to mind. Why should they? It was a beautiful summer day, and they didn't have a care in the world. Raymond wished he could say the same.
He took a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich and pretended to read the newspaper on his lap. Nothing unusual to see here, just an average businessman enjoying his lunch hour.
"Any news?" His eyes followed the long legs of the woman who'd joined him on the bench all the way up to her eyes. Katarina. Her hair had changed again, back to blonde. It seemed it was different every time he saw her. Long. Short. Straight. Wavy. Blonde. Brunette. Redhead. She was a woman of a thousand disguises. Her eyes were always the same though, that unforgettable blue/green. Words couldn't express how relieved he was to have her here and safe.
"Nothing concrete. Fitch says the team the CIA assembled can't even say with certainty there is a mole. They're worried the agency might be bugged. The halt on new recruitment hasn't been lifted yet." Not long after he and Katarina had reconciled they'd both received the scare of their lives. American assets had suddenly started disappearing in droves, never to be seen again. US intelligence had scrabbled to stop the bleeding, but thus far they'd been wildly unsuccessful.
"Which means they'll be leaning on the ones they already have more than ever. On top of everything else..." Katarina pressed her lips together, cutting herself off. Something was wrong, but she didn't want to share it.
"What it is?" Katarina shook her head and forced a smile.
"Nothing. Look, I brought a surprise for you." Katarina nodded over at the sandbox. Raymond followed her gaze. Among the smaller children playing in the sand was a small, brown-haired girl in a flowered shirt and jeans. Raymond watched as she happily banged a plastic shovel on a bucket. Masha. She'd gotten so big. Raymond was seized with a powerful urge run over and scoop her up in his arms. He resisted, forcing his eyes back to the newspaper.
"Thank you. Now, tell me what's wrong." Katarina released a small sigh.
"Konstantin's sick. There's a blood disease that runs in his family, and the doctors just confirmed he has it." No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell him. Katarina was no more anxious to introduce Konstantin into their few stolen moments than he was to bring up Carla. He pushed down the inevitable wave of jealousy and focused on what she'd actually said. Konstantin had a genetic disorder.
"Will they test Masha?" A DNA screening would expose Masha's paternity, and a part of him wished for that. If Katarina's marriage to Rostov dissolved, then maybe the KGB would assign her back to the states full time. It wasn't ideal scenario, but it would be a hell of a lot better than what they had now.
"No. It only affects Rostov men. She's safe, for now at least." Safe. Raymond felt a stab of guilt. He knew Konstantin's presence in Katarina's life gave her a certain level of protection. It meant Masha was likewise looked after. Wanting to remove that safety net was extremely selfish.
"For now?"
"In a decade to two, when the disease progresses, he'll need a healthy genetic donor." Which he would expect to find in Masha. Of course Katarina was upset. He knew she loved Konstantin, in the same way he loved Carla. She felt responsible for making him believe he already had the means to one day save his life.
"What's his prognosis?" Raymond told himself that he didn't want Rostov to die. That would hurt Katarina and he could never wish for anything that caused her pain. He also believed that Konstantin was essentially a good man. He didn't deserve to have his life cut short.
"Typically patients don't last past their late fifties, early sixties." Raymond exhaled. Masha would be grown by then. This war, God willing, would be done.
"Thirty years is a long time. There's no telling the kinds of medical advances that could occur between now and then." He wished he could take her hand, comfort her, but he couldn't. They were in public. It was too much of a risk, even here in a small Virginia town.
"How is Jennifer? Is she still dancing?" Raymond allowed Katarina's redirect.
"Yes. She a few months ago she performed the lead in Swan Lake." He'd actually managed to attend the recital. Jennifer had been wonderful and Carla had been so proud. They both had been. It had been a good night, marred only by the fact that Raymond couldn't help thinking of Katarina. It was, after all through his daughter's dancing that they'd met. He'd been picking his daughter up from a lesson. He remembered how beautiful she'd been the first time he'd seen her, hair done in an elegant bun, wearing long-sleeved black leotard.
"That's wonderful." Raymond recalled how good she'd been with his daughter. Jennifer had raved about Miss Sara, and been devastated when her instructor had vanished without warning.
Attempting to block that painful recollection, Raymond risked another glance up at Masha. She'd put the shovel down and seemed to be having an animated conversation with a stuffed animal. Raymond squinted at the toy. It looked very familiar.
"The stuffed animal she's carrying, isn't that-"
"The rabbit you bought her? Yes. It's her favorite. She won't go anywhere without it." He couldn't believe it. When he'd gone into the toy store he'd been more or less in fog due to the shock of Katarina's pregnancy. He'd chosen the rabbit on a whim, yet of all the toys he imagined Masha had been presented with, it was his that now she squeezed to her chest. "I have something for you." Katarina nodded at the newspaper and he passed it over to her. Katarina pretended to read an article while deftly slipping a small rectangle between the pages, "It's a photograph of me and Masha at the summer palace." Raymond's throat tightened. It was a kind gesture on Katarina's part. She knew how much he wanted to see his daughter, to see how she'd grown.
"The summer palace?"
"It's a house Konstantin bought in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. He hates summers Novosibirsk." Raymond's mood soured in a moment. He had enough reasons to envy Konstantin without the man being able to provide 'palaces' to Katarina and Masha.
"Remind me again how a so-called Communist winds up with two houses?" Katarina's sighed at Raymond's cutting tone of voice. He instantly feel contrite. This wasn't Katarina's fault and he shouldn't take out his bad temper out on her.
"Raymond-"
"I know. I'm sorry. I just...it's been over two years and I feel like we're no closer to the end of this than we were then." It wasn't just frustration, it was also fear. The longer this dragged on, the greater chance that the KGB would learn of Katarina's double agent status.
"It's hard. I know." It WAS hard. Too hard for him. Quite frankly he wasn't strong enough for it, even if Katarina was. She was a foundational element in his life. If he lost her, he would crumble into dust. He wouldn't let that happened.
"What if there were something we could do about it?" Katarina looked at him, puzzled. Raymond took a deep breath and forged on, "Fitch told me about this group made up intelligence officers and government officials from both sides of the the Iron Curtain. They want to stabilize global relations without the interference of bureaucracy."
Katarina didn't speak for a full fifteen seconds. "Please tell me you're joking." Her voice was one part incredulity, one part horror. He would need to be extremely persuasive.
"Don't you want this to end? Don't you want Masha to grow up in a world where our countries aren't a hair-trigger away from launching nukes at each other?" Masha was the key here. Katarina would be willing to agree to most anything if it kept their daughter safe. He felt the same way.
"What makes you think you can trust these people? People who operate without oversight, without any authority granted by their government?" Raymond grimaced. This had, of course, occurred to him. Still it was hard to imagine anyone being less scrupulous or trustworthy than the CIA or the KGB. If his few years in intelligence had taught him anything, it was that institutions couldn't be trusted. People could be though, a select basis.
"I trust Alan Fitch. He is a good man. A patriot. He helped me get Katya and her family to safety." Alan was also an amazing mentor. Raymond had learned a thousand times more from the spook than had from all his Naval Academy instructors combined. He knew how to get things done without all the red tape.
"Did you consider the reason he did you that favor, was so he could hold it over you later?" Raymond's certainty wavered, just for a moment. Was it possible Katarina was right? Had Alan helped him two years ago, so that Raymond would be more open-minded about his offer?
Raymond mentally shook himself. It didn't matter, even if it was true. He had to focus on the immediate threat: the KGB. He had to stop them before they had the chance to hurt the woman he loved.
"There is a leak, Katarina. Whoever it is has gone quiet, but they're still out there. Every day I wake up, wondering if this is day they find you. I can't keep living like that. I won't." Katarina's eyes raked his face.
"You already said 'yes', didn't you?" Raymond was silent for a moment. Of course she had guessed. She's always been able to read him like an open book.
"A member of group will be in contact shortly." Alan said he wanted someone fresh to meet with Katarina. They needed a backup handler, in case they needed her for a mission and Raymond was off on on assignment for the Navy.
"How could you agree to this without even discussing it with me? We are supposed to be partners! We are supposed to be in this together!" The accusation stung.
"We are." Even with their history, there was no one Raymond trusted as much as he trusted her.
"No, we're not. Not when you unilaterally make decisions for us. For ME." Katarina stood and began walking toward the sandpit. "Masha! It's time to go sweetheart!" Raymond watched helplessly as Katarina gathered their daughter up in her arms and headed out of the park. He wanted to call her back, try to explain, but of course he couldn't. It was probably better that he give her time to cool down any way. He'd figure out a way to get her on board, somehow.
Raymond waited about two minutes on the bench before heading to his car. He was debating whether or not to find a hotel or start the drive home when he felt a small metal object dig into his back.
"Don't move." Raymond froze at the gruff male voice. He was being robbed in broad daylight, outside a playground. Alexandria was a rougher neighborhood than he'd realized.
"Buddy, if you want my wallet, you can have it. It's just here inside my jacket." He started to reach for his concealed weapon when he heard the distinct click of a gun hammer.
"Reach for that gun and I'll put a hole in your kidney. Now walk over the the passenger door of the green pickup truck, open it, and slide over to the drivers side." Raymond's mind was racing. This wasn't a mugging, it was a kidnapping. The man had made him. Was he KGB? Had they been caught? Did they already have Katarina?
Once Raymond was in the vehicle he was finally able to see his captor. He was a big, barrel chested man in his fifties, built like a linebacker. His dirty blonde hair mixed evenly with silver. Steel blue eyes pierced into Raymond in an eerily familiar manner. He'd seen this man before, from a distance. This was Frank Richards. Katarina's father. Masha's grandfather. The KGB sleeper who'd successfully operated in the United States for thirty years.
The big man slid into the car after Raymond, tossed him the keys, and began giving driving directions. The pistol in Richards' right hand compelled him to cooperate. All Raymond could think as he navigated gravel roads was what this meant for Katarina. If her father found out she had been turned, would he out her to the KGB? It didn't seem likely, given her father's reaction to her recruitment. Still that didn't meant Raymond was safe. The man might shoot him for being an American agent or for blackmailing his daughter into committing treason.
"Pull in here." Raymond turned the truck onto a long driveway. At the end of it was a brown house with a bright blue door. Richards had brought Raymond to his home in the middle of woods. There wasn't a neighbor for miles. That meant no witnesses for whatever Richards had planned. Katarina was a staying here, but there was no telling when she'd return with Masha. She'd need to get whatever she'd claimed she was heading into town for. Apparently Richards hadn't been fooled by her lie.
Raymond parked the car and was ushered at gunpoint into the detached garage. Boxes lined the walls filled with children's toys. Katarina's toys. Despite the dire situation he felt a flicker of interest in their contents. Then he noticed the large wooden chair in the center of the room.
Handcuffs were attached to both arms.
"Drop the briefcase and sit." Raymond obeyed, despite the building panic in his stomach. The man had obviously planned this little chat and Raymond was fairly certain he was not going to like what was on the agenda.
Richards divested Raymond of his gun and secured him to the chair. Once Raymond was handcuffed, the larger man stepped back and laid his weapon on one of the cardboard boxes.
"How do you know my daughter?" The lie burst forth from Raymond without his making a conscious decision to release it.
"Your daughter? Who the hell is your daughter?" Richards' retribution was a hard punch to Raymond's nose. "Ow!" The yell of pain was not in the least counterfeit. The man hit like an anvil.
"Don't lie to me." Katarina's father's voice was remarkably calm, given the damaged he'd just done.
"Are you talking about the blonde? She came over and started talking to me. I didn't realise that was illegal. What is this, amish country?" This time pain exploded in his stomach. "Ow! Would you please stop hitting me?!" Jesus, the man was strong, especially for someone in his middle age.
"Maybe when you start telling the truth." Richards bent down and opened Raymond's briefcase. He removed the few items he'd found in there, including the newspaper. As Richards flip through the pages the photograph of Masha and Katarina slipped out and fell to the floor. Katarina's father picked up the picture and studied it. "Why do you have this? Why would she give this to you?" Suddenly a figure appeared behind Richards.
"Papa, what are you doing?!" Richards' face, which had been so neutral in the interrogation, darkened with anger.
"Who is he Katarina?! Why were you meeting with him in secret?!" Father and daughter stared each other down in a silent battle of wills. Finally Katarina's shifted her eyes to Raymond.
"He's Masha's father."