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of having the cover of the performance as distraction for our entrance and exit? If Yulian was here
with us, I assure you he would approve of this plan, even over the original.”
This last jab struck vulnerable flesh. Gregor looked at him, his expression pained. They
waited.
“We should focus on someone else,” Gregor said, seemingly unaware that in discussing a
variation in the victim he was indirectly conceding to Vlad’s overall strategy. But Vlad was aware of
what this small objection meant, and a sense of victory coursed through him.
“Who might you suggest?” he asked mildly.
“Perhaps that British bitch. The one who’s too proud to bow her neck to the true mother church.
No one would care if she got a bit roughed up in transit.”
“Agreed. Including the tsar. Rather than the ransom, he would probably send us a note of
thanks.”
The two men contemplated their coffee cups, tilted back in their small black chairs. The day
was fine, sunny and fair, with a breeze carrying the sugary aromas of childhood up from the bakery
next door. They each thought for a moment of their mothers, standing at stoves, calling out that supper
was almost ready, although neither man shared this memory with the other. They were not friends,
after all.
Gregor sighed. “Your point is sound. I suppose the little one must go.”
The Winter Palace – The Guest Rooms
11:40 AM
Fortunately, Tom had brought his most recent textbook from Cambridge. He had stuffed it in his
black bag, along with some other hastily-gathered accoutrements of the medical profession. At the
time he had viewed these instruments as no more than the props an actor would use in a play, but now
he was grateful that he had them close at hand. Especially the textbook.