The Ice Curtain by Robin White Read Free Book Online Page B

attention?”
    It didn’t take much thought. “You threaten to break it.”
    â€œExactly.” Petrov pushed a tumbler to Volsky, then refilled his own. The vodka’s oily surface was nearly convex. He raised the glass to Volsky. “A toast to the Siberian Delegate. A man who should not be underestimated. May you be buried in a coffin made from an oak tree that I will plant from an acorn with my own hands tomorrow.” He drained it in a gulp.
    Volsky left his drink untouched. “In other words, you’re already selling our diamonds, just not to the cartel.”
    Petrov gave Volsky a sly, confirming smile. “Now we’re moving into areas I’m not permitted to discuss.”
    â€œSo where’s the money?”
    â€œMoney?”
    Volsky grabbed Petrov’s arm. “You’re not giving our stones away.”
    Petrov tried to pull his wrist from Volsky’s grip. It didn’t budge. “I can have you thrown out.”
    â€œDo it. I’ll bring your arm with me. It will look good over my fireplace.” Volsky squeezed once, very hard. “So?”
    â€œAll right!”
Volsky let go and Petrov rubbed the blood back into his hand. “For the last year, diamonds have been sold under the direct authority of the Kremlin. And
not
to the cartel.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œWhere the money is. America. We started our own company there to market them. If the cartel won’t negotiate, we’ll keep doing it. But they’ll come to heel. They have to.”
    â€œThis company. Its name?”
    â€œGolden Autumn. The cartel will have to choose. Pay us more, or we’ll break your back. The Kremlin is running the whole show. I’m just a small gear in a big—”
    â€œA minute ago you were a general. Now you’re just a small gear. Next you’ll tell me you just sweep the floors.”
    â€œListen. This
must
be kept secret until everything is in place. You think the cartel doesn’t have friends in America? Officials they can buy? Diamond brokers they can threaten? You could destroy years of planning. Then it will be your fault if your miners freeze.”
    â€œUnless I keep silent and wait?”
    Petrov sat back. “I’m glad we finally understand one another.”
    â€œI understand. I wonder. Does our president also understand? Does he realize his diamonds are being sold out from under him?”
    â€œIt would be impossible to move those diamonds without his approval. You must trust me when I say—”
    â€œI wouldn’t trust you with a piece of colored glass. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Gorky-9.” It was Yeltsin’s suburban retreat. “If I’m wrong you’ll have my apologies. But if I’m right”—Volsky leaned close and smiled—“we’ll go back to Siberia together. Only you’ll be in chains.”
    Petrov slapped his open hand to the table, exasperated. “What makes you think the President doesn’t already know everything?”
    â€œI know Boris Nikolaevich. He’s no criminal.”
    Petrov laughed. “You’ve been in Siberia too long. You know the difference between a criminal and a businessman? A businessman has more imagination. Listen. The rain falls down. It doesn’t fall up. This matter begins above all our heads.”
    â€œWe’ll see who still has a head tomorrow.”
    Petrov stood. “Good evening, Delegate Volsky. I wish you a night of sober contemplation and a safe trip home.” Petrov opened the door and left.
    Volsky scooped up some caviar, put it to his mouth, then stopped. He tossed it to the table, grabbed his raincoat and briefcase, and walked to the door. Outside the private room, the main dining area was slowly filling. Petrov was already gone.
    The rain falls from above.
But from how high? If someone at the Kremlin was involved, some termite who had burrowed into a position of power and influence,