Free Slingshot: A Spycatcher Novel by Matthew Dunn Page B

that his government salary was that good.” He nodded toward the little bedroom. “Is she his?”
    Alina’s face flushed, her eyes looked venomous. “None of your damn business.”
    “Or is your Yevtushenko but one of many lovers and she is the result?”
    “How dare you!” Alina rose quickly. “Get out!”
    But Will remained seated. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps the gifts have come from many men.”
    “I am not that type of woman!”
    “Then what type of woman are you?”
    Alina’s breathing was fast, her anger vivid.
    “Sit down.”
    She did not do so.
    “Sit down!” Will kept his voice quiet though his tone was now stern. “I came here to help you and your man. I know the Russians have been here. It would have been one of the first things they did after Lenka’s disappearing act. Do you think they have your interests at heart? If they get their hands on him, they’ll throw him in prison. And the men he’s with now—once his value to them is over, they’ll do far worse. Almost certainly, they’ll butcher him.”
    Alina’s eyes widened.
    “There are three organizations who want what Yevtushenko’s got. None of us are friends.”
    “Good! Then you’ll tear yourselves apart.”
    Will nodded. “That’s a possibility.” He looked at one of the books, thought for a moment, and said:
    Whene’er companions don’t agree,
    They work without accord;
    And naught but trouble doth result,
    Although they all work hard.
    One day a Swan, a Pike, a Crab,
    Resolved a load to haul.
    All three were harnessed to the cart,
    And pulled together all.
    But though they pulled with all their might,
    That cart-load on the bank stuck tight.
    The Swan pulled upward to the skies,
    The Crab did backward crawl,
    The Pike made for the water straight:
    This proved no use at all.
    Now, which of them was most to blame,
    ’Tis not for me to say,
    But this I know—the load is there,
    Unto this very day.
    Alina stared at him, her expression different. Her baby’s crying grew softer. “Ivan Krylov’s ‘A Swan, a Pike, and a Crab.’ ” She turned toward the books and frowned. “I’m surprised you . . .” She smiled, though when she spoke there was not attempt to hide the sarcasm in her tone. “You think I’ll help you just because you can recite some poetry?”
    “No. But you know that Yevtushenko’s the load. A dead load if nothing is done to help him. You choose: swan, pike, or crab?”
    She stared at him, for the first time the tiniest hint of confusion on her face.
    “ Please. Do sit down Miss Petrova.”
    She sat. “Which are you?”
    “It’s irrelevant. We’re all stupid without cohesive direction. Your direction.”
    “My direction?”
    “Yes. I want you to choose to work with one of us and tell us what to do.” Will wondered how Alina was going to respond.
    She said nothing for ten seconds. Then, “How can I trust you?”
    “I can’t persuade you to trust me. Use your judgment. Judge me alongside the Russians you met, and the men who now have Lenka.”
    “Who are those men?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Do the Russians know?”
    “I’m not sure, but I think they might.”
    “Then the choice is clear. I should work with the Russians!”
    “Perhaps you should. Providing you trust them.”
    Alina’s eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. She seemed to make some kind of decision. “Our child is called Maria. We named her after Lenka’s grandmother.” She leaned forward, her expression stern. “Lenka was delighted when I told him that I was bearing his child. I’ve never been with another man since I’ve known him.”
    Will nodded, and for the briefest of moments wondered how it would feel to hear a woman declare that she was pregnant with his child. “Tell me about the Russians who came here.”
    Alina drummed fingers on the sofa, seemed deep in thought, and also looked scared.
    “It’s vital that you tell me everything.”
    She stopped drumming. “There was only one of