“I understand you were wounded at the front. Unnecessary, but courageous.”

Mia was in no mood for small talk. She halted and faced him. “You ordered me killed.”

He looked hurt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply sent you on one of your own deliveries. If the Luftwaffe attacked you, that is one of the unfortunate hazards of being in the midst of a war.”

“That fairy tale might have worked with Stalin, but not with me. Your own NKVD man told me what his job was. And he would have carried it out if we hadn’t been shot down just at that moment. Yevgeny survived the crash, too, by the way, and was very brave. The Germans tortured him, but he gave nothing away, so they shot him.”

Molotov snorted. “No one will believe that absurd tale now, since there’s only you to tell it.”

“The ambassador believes me. And Harry Hopkins will, too. More importantly, they will believe that I discovered who’s responsible for the theft of so much Lend-Lease material. Not the big war materials, the jeeps and airplane parts, but the little things that you can conceal and then sell on the black market.”

He jammed his fists in his coat pockets, and for a moment she feared he carried a gun. But it was just a gesture of frustration. “You stupid girl. Whatever story you invented to tell your ambassador will carry no weight. It’s the hysterical imaginings of a secretary against the word and reputation of a foreign minister. I don’t need to remind you that the most powerful men of this century are about to negotiate the fate of half the globe. Before the force of history, your tale of what you saw in a single visit to an arms factory will amount to the buzzing of a mosquito, an irritant and an embarrassment.”

“Perhaps so, but you, too, will be an irritant and an embarrassment. All Stalin has to do is suspect you might be stealing, and he’ll sweep you away. You of all people know how he disposes of men who are of no use to him. One telephone call from Harry Hopkins to put the idea in his head, and you’d be liquidated the same afternoon.”

The foreign minister was silent and began walking again, slowly, obviously collecting his thoughts. He had called her a stupid girl, but it was he who had arrived unprepared.

He halted, clearly ready to deal. “We will explain the material losses as an error on our side. Then I can guarantee you safe passage home on an American plane. No flights over enemy territory. Medical assistance for your arm, an exit visa, and a friendly escort to the airport, together with your ambassador, if you wish. Just go home and leave us to conduct our business, which is outside your area of competence.” He pivoted around as if to return to the embassy, the deal done.

She spoke to his back. “Oh, Mr. Molotov. You haven’t been paying attention. You evidently missed the part about our informing Marshal Stalin about your indiscretion. I’ll be the one who states the terms.”

He stopped and turned, and his cold glance stunned her. It was the look of a man who had already once organized the starvation of a million peasants. If he could have shot her on the spot with no consequences to himself, he’d have done it in an instant. But he couldn’t. Through his wireless glasses she could actually see him blink.

“What do you want?” he asked softly.

She took a breath.

“Everything you mentioned, and more. One, that you send for Senior Corporal Alexia Mazarova of the 109th Rifle Division and deliver her to Moscow. Two, that you provide whatever documentation is necessary to permit her to travel to the United States.”

“To the United States?! What wild fantasies you have. In fact, we have already investigated the 109th Rifle Division, or what’s left of it. Senior Corporal Alexia Mazarova was transferred to a penal battalion.”

Mia could feel her face redden with rage. Penal battalion. A death sentence.

“Then you are about to fall as well. This discussion is over.” She brushed past him to return to the embassy.

He let her go five steps, then called out. “Wait.”

She halted and turned slowly toward him, now as coldhearted as he. She wanted nothing more at that moment than for his own tyrannical government to humiliate and then execute him.

“I can contact the head of the battalion. If she’s still alive, I’ll have her transferred back here. But only if you maintain complete silence and drop the whole investigation. Tell Mr. Hopkins it was bad bookkeeping. Tell him anything.”

“Complete silence. That’s what you’ll get. But only so long as I am sure Corporal Mazarova is safe. If, at any moment, I learn that she has been killed, or imprisoned, or harmed in any way, your trashy little scandal will go first to President Roosevelt and then to The New York Times. I understand Marshal Stalin has The New York Times read to him every morning over his breakfast tray.”

“Assuming I can arrange her transfer and subsequent exit, what do you plan to do with her?”

“That’s none of your business. Until then I have the entire story written out with dates and names. I reside in the White House so can hand it personally to the president. As soon as Corporal Mazarova arrives here at the embassy, I will turn it over to you.”

“That’s a promise that only an extremely naïve person would accept. How can I trust that you won’t simply write it again?”

“I don’t know what kind of betrayals you are used to, but that is not my way. I actually keep my word. Your fall from grace, or liquidation, if it came to that, would be of no benefit to me.”

“And Ambassador Harriman? Of what benefit could it be to him?”

“He knows only bits and pieces of the story, and as a diplomat trying to keep communication and goodwill between our governments, such a scandal would not benefit him either. In any case, he has left the entire matter in my hands.”

He glanced away, and she could see his jaw moving slightly. It amused her to think he might be grinding his teeth. “All right. I will look into the status of Corporal Mazarova and send word tomorrow morning.”

Dry leaves crackled under his feet as he marched away.

* * *

Harriman joined her in the garden later. “I’m glad you’re giving Molotov a taste of his own medicine, but do you have a master plan? If so, I need to know it.”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve been playing this whole thing too much by ear, and I know that diplomats don’t have that luxury.”

“True. But diplomats are not usually kidnapped to be murdered for uncovering a scandal. So you have my complete sympathy. But when you spoke with Molotov, you made a deal not to expose him if he met your conditions. What were those conditions?”

“I’ll give you some background. When I was shot at Pskov, a soldier who was also a personal friend saved my life by dragging me out of the line of fire. She had to leave her post to do it, and for that she was arrested for desertion. As a result, she was put in a penal battalion, where, as you know, the fatality rate is very high. They are sent out to walk through minefields, for example, to set off the mines before the other troops pass. That sort of thing. I said I’d hand over my report to him if he removed her from the penal battalion and had her brought to Moscow, and then here.”

“Here? I can see wanting to save her, but why can’t she go back to her own unit?”

“Because she also knows about Molotov’s dirty deeds. And her association with me puts her in the same danger that I’m in. I think the only way to save her is to take her out of Russia.”

“Out of Russia? You mean defect.” He took a step back. “Miss Kramer, have you thought this out? What if she doesn’t want to? And if she does, what can she do in the United States, a woman who speaks only Russian and has killed scores of men?”

“She can learn English, the same way millions of immigrants have done, and as for the body count, thousands of young American men are also going home from this war with the blood of dead Germans on their hands. Why would it be different for her?”

Harriman frowned slightly in what looked like agreement. Still, his question was a fair one.

“Of course, we have to ask her what she wants to do. But if she does defect, I can think of at least one job that would fit. When Major Pavlichenko was in Washington on her lecture tour, Georgetown University offered her a position teaching Russian. She turned it down, but Lorena Hickok told me they do have a Russian department and always need staff.”

“Well, that’s plausible. All of this would have to be done with extreme discretion, without embarrassment to either the White House or the Kremlin. And if it blows up, you’re on your own.”

“Ambassador, I won’t be any more on my own than I was crashing on the battlefield in Belarus and stealing the identity of a dying soldier.”

* * *

As promised, the news arrived the next morning in a letter delivered by motorcycle currier. Corporal Mazarova was still alive, and orders had been sent for her immediate transfer to Moscow.

“Immediate” was a frustratingly indefinite term, and while she waited, Mia paced the corridors of the embassy like a specter. So many issues could not be resolved until she had spoken with Alexia herself. What if she had completely misjudged her? What if Alexia was bitter and blamed her arrest on Mia? The thought was excruciating. And would she defect? What if Mia’s entire extortion scheme was for nothing, and Alexia remained a loyal Soviet patriot, prepared to die, even in a penal battalion, for the motherland?

She rubbed her forehead with her good hand, as if it could soothe her tormented conscience. But it simply allowed her anxiety to shift to another set of questions. If Alexia did want to defect, just how would they do that? On what plane? With whose permission? Mia herself had come to Russia on behalf of the White House, so the ambassador had the authority to put her on an American military plane home. But did that include a Soviet defector?