My Only One by Lindsay McKenna Read Free Book Online Page A

she discussed
Texasville
by Larry McMurty, because it was about the Old West, and she discovered the Soviets’ keen curiosity with anything having to do with that time in her nation’s history. Abby decided not to discuss
State Scarlet
by David Aaron with them because it was a political hot potato sprinkled liberally with intrigue and national-defense information.
    Another morning, Abby talked about the Broadway plays in New York City, and a lively discussion ensued as to whether the Bolshoi could compare. Having just seen
Blythe Spirit
by No;auel Coward, Abby shared the plot of the play with them. She discovered the Soviets had a deep and loyal tie to the arts, and breakfast soon became a place to share such information. When she told them she’d seen the ballet
Sleeping Beauty
at New York’s Metropolitan Opera House, they excitedly told her about the Bolshoi.
    Perhaps the most political she got was in telling them about
The Jaguar Smiles
by Salman Rushdie, a book that was written about the Sandinista government in Nicaragua. When it got too political, Abby gracefully evaded the topic and deftly turned the conversation to Vincent Van Gogh’s painting
Sunflowers,
which sold recently for 39.9 million dollars. The officers at the table simply couldn’t comprehend such money being spent on one painting, despite their love of the arts.
    Denisov smiled. “While you slept this morning, Tony Cummings landed on our helo pad and took the film and official report of your rescue, and then left,” Denisov told her. “He said to tell you hello and to give you this.” He produced a thick manila envelope. “It is your information for the forthcoming press conference in Anchorage. I would hope that you would share its contents with Captain Rostov in order to help him prepare for the reporters’ questions.”
    “Of course,” Abby murmured. She placed the heavy envelope across her lap, having the distinct feeling that Denisov would have preferred her to open it and share the contents in front of him, but she resisted. “Would it be possible for Captain Rostov to go over the information with me after breakfast?”
    Beaming, Denisov nodded. “Excellent idea, Dr. Fielding. Excellent idea.”
    * * *
    I N ANOTHER STAFF ROOM AFTER the meal, Alec sat down with Abby. The coast of Kodiak Island was clearly in sight now, and by tomorrow morning, the
Udaloy
would arrive at the twelve-mile limit of U.S. coastal waters. It was Abby’s understanding that a Coast Guard helicopter would land on the
Udaloy,
pick up her and Alec, and fly them directly to Anchorage for the press conference at noon.
    Although the hatch to the small room was shut and no sound could be heard, Alec didn’t trust the room not to be bugged. Taking out a pen and paper from the breast pocket of his dark blue uniform blouse, he scribbled a note and placed it in front of Abby.
    This room may be bugged. Watch what you say. If there are sensitive things that need to be said, I suggest a walk on deck where there are no prying ears, just prying eyes.
    Frowning, Abby nodded. She watched as Alec took the note and placed it in a pocket. She quickly shook out the contents of Tony’s envelope on the table before them.
    “Oh, look!” Abby exclaimed, pleased. There was a color photo taken from the video Brad had shot of the Japanese ship bearing down on the
Argonaut.
The video had been flown to Kodiak Island by the long range Helix yesterday. The effort had been worth it. “Brad got some great shots!” she whispered excitedly, looking through the ten photos. “This is awesome. Simply awesome!”
    “‘Awesome’?”
    Looking up, Abby realized the word confounded Alec. “It’s a slang phrase we use in America. We seem to go through certain words in our culture every decade. In the sixties, it was
groovy
and
far out.
Today it’s
awesome.
Do you go through phrases like that in Russia?”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    Abby wanted to say that so far, all the men she’d met