Free Agent 6 by Tom Rob Smith Page B

wardrobe, gathering dust, was all that remained from those days. He’d wanted to throw it out and had expected his wife to welcome such a decision. Despite having nothing but hatred for his former career, Raisa would not allow the luxury of such a symbolic gesture. With their current wages they’d never be able to replace it.
    He checked his watch, holding it up to the window, catching the moonlight. Four in the morning—in just a few hours he would accompany his family to the airport where he would say goodbye to them, remaining in Moscow. In the dark he dressed, stealthily leaving the bedroom. Opening the door, he was surprised to see his younger daughter seated at the kitchen table in the dark. Her arms were in front of her, hands clasped, as if she were praying—deep in thought. Seventeen years old, Elena was a miracle to Leo: seemingly incapable of spite or malice, her character showing few scars, in contrast to Zoya, his elder daughter, who was often brusque, surly, and aggressive, with a temper that could flare at the slightest provocation.
    Elena looked up at him. He felt a shudder of guilt at the thought of discovering her diary, before reminding himself that he’d put it back without reading more than the opening sentence. He sat beside her and whispered:
    —
Can’t sleep?
    She glanced across the room in the direction of her older sister, Zoya. To avoid turning on a light and waking her sister, Leo lit a short stubby candle, tipping wax into the base of a tea glass and fixing the candle inside. Elena remained silent, hypnotized by the refracted light of the flame. His earlier observation that she was acting oddly was accurate. It was quite unlike her to be tense and reticent. If this had been an interview as part of an investigation, Leo would have been sure that she was involved in something. But Leo was not an agent anymore and he was annoyed that his thoughts were still organized according to the disciplines he’d been taught.
    He took out a deck of cards. There was nothing else to do for the next couple of hours. Shuffling the deck, he whispered:
    —
Are you nervous?
    Elena looked at him oddly:
    —
I’m not a child anymore.
    —
A child? I know that.
    She was angry with him. He pressed her:
    —
Is anything wrong?
    She considered for some time, looking down at her hands, before answering with a shake of her head:
    —
I’ve never flown before, that’s all. It’s silly, really.
    —
You would tell me? If there was something wrong?
    She nodded:
    —
Yes, I’d tell you.
    He did not believe her.
    Leo dealt the first hand of cards, trying and failing to reassure himself that he’d done the right thing in not refusing to allow the trip. He’d protested as far as he was able, capitulating only when it seemed as if he were opposing the plan merely because he’d not been allowed to go with them. His decision to leave the KGB was a permanent mark onhis record. There was no prospect of his ever being granted papers for travel abroad. It did not seem fair that his circumstances should hold them back. Opportunities to visit foreign countries were exceptionally rare. It was possible they’d never get another chance.
    They’d been playing cards for no more than thirty minutes when Raisa appeared at the door. She smiled, which evolved into a yawn, and sat down with them, indicating that she wanted to be dealt in, muttering under her breath:
    —
I didn’t think there was much hope of getting a full night’s sleep.
    Across the room there was a loud and deliberate sigh. Zoya sat up in bed. She pulled back the cloth dividing screen and surveyed the game. Leo was quick to apologize:
    —
Did we wake you?
    Zoya shook her head:
    —
I couldn’t sleep.
    Elena said:
    —
Were you listening to our conversation?
    Walking toward them, Zoya smiled at her sister:
    —
Only in an attempt to fall asleep.
    She took the remaining seat. The four of them, with hair disheveled, lit only by the flicker of a candle, were a