The Sky Is Falling

"Yes. We met." His tone was casual.

That's it? Dana wondered. Yes. We met. What is he hiding?

"Mr. Falcon, I would like to speak with your wife if - "

"I'm afraid she is away on a holiday."

She had a nervous breakdown, and she's in a sanitarium in Cannes.

Marcel Falcon was either in a state of complete denial or he was professing ignorance for a more sinister reason.

Dana telephoned Matt from her room at the Plaza Athenee.

"Dana, when are you coming home?"

"I have just one more lead to follow, Matt. Taylor Winthrop's chauffeur in Brussels told me that Winthrop talked about some secret Russian plan that he didn't want interrupted. I have to see if I can find out what he was talking about. I want to speak with some of his associates in Moscow."

"All right. But Cromwell wants you back in the studio as soon as possible. Tim Drew is our correspondent in Moscow. I'll have him meet you. He can be helpful."

"Thanks. I shouldn't be in Russia more than a day or two."

"Dana?"

"Yes?"

"Never mind. Good-bye."

Thanks. I shouldn't be in Russia more than a day or two.

Dana?

Yes?

Never mind. Good-bye.

Tape ends.

Dana telephoned home.

"Good evening, Mrs. Daley - or rather, good afternoon."

"Miss Evans! It's grand to hear from you."

"How is everything there?"

"Just lovely."

"How is Kemal? Are there any problems?"

"None at all. He certainly misses you."

"I miss him. Will you put him on?"

"He's taking a nap. Would you like me to wake him up?"

Dana said in surprise, "Taking a nap? When I called the other day, he was taking a nap."

"Yes. The lad came home from school, and he felt tired, so I thought a nap would be good for him."

"I see...Well, just tell him I love him. I'll call tomorrow. Tell him I'm going to bring him back a bear from Russia."

"A bear? Well! He'll be excited."

Dana called Roger Hudson.

"Roger, I hate to impose, but I need a favor."

"If there's something I can do..."

"I'm leaving for Moscow, and I want to talk to Edward Hardy, the American ambassador there. I was hoping that you might know him."

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"I'm in Paris. If you could fax me a letter of introduction, I would really appreciate it."

"I can do better than that. I'll give him a call and tell him to expect you."

"Thank you, Roger. I'm very grateful."

It was New Year's Eve. It was a shock to remember that this was to have been her wedding day. Soon, Dana told herself. Soon. She put on her coat and went outside.

The doorman said, "Taxi, Miss Evans?"

"No, thanks." She had nowhere to go. Jean-Paul Hubert was away visiting his family. This is no city to be alone in, Dana decided.

She began to walk, trying not to think about Jeff and Rachel. Trying not to think. Dana passed a small church that was open, and on an impulse, she went inside. The cool, quiet vaulted interior gave Dana a sense of peace. She sat down in a pew and said a silent prayer.

At midnight, as Dana was walking the streets, Paris exploded in a cacophony of noise and confetti. She wondered what Jeff was doing. Are he and Rachel making love? He had not called. How could he have forgotten that this night was so special?

In Dana's hotel room, on the floor, near the dresser, the cell phone that had fallen from her purse was ringing.

When Dana returned to the Plaza Athenee, it was three in the morning. She walked into her room, got undressed, and crawled into bed. First her father and now Jeff. Abandonment ran through her life like a dark thread in a tapestry. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself, she swore. So what if this was going to be my wedding night. Oh, Jeff, why don't you call me?

She cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Nineteen

THE FLIGHT TOMOSCOW on Sabena Airlines took three and a half hours. Dana noted that most of the passengers were dressed in warm clothing, and the baggage racks were loaded with fur coats, hats, and scarves.

I should have dressed more warmly, Dana thought. Well, I won't be in Moscow for more than a day or two.

She could not stop thinking about Antonio Persico's words. Winthrop was like a crazy man. All he kept saying on the phone was "The Russian plan must go on. We've gone too far to let anything stop it now."

What important plan was Winthrop working on? What pieces had fallen into place? And soon after, the president had appointed him ambassador to Moscow.

The more information I get, the less sense it makes, Dana decided.

To Dana's surprise, Sheremetyevo II, Russia's international airport, was crowded with tourists. Why would any sane person visit Russia in the winter? Dana wondered.

When Dana reached the baggage carousel, a man standing nearby was surreptitiously watching her. Dana's heart skipped a beat. They knew I was coming here, she thought. How could they have?

The man was approaching her. "Dana Evans?" He had a thick Slovak accent.

"Yes..."

He broke into a broad smile and said excitedly, "You are my biggest fan! You watch me on television all the time."

Dana felt a surge of relief. "Oh. Yes. Thank you."

"I wonder if you would be so pleasant to give me your autograph?"

"Of course."

He thrust a piece of paper in front of Dana. "I do not have a pen."

"I do." Dana took out her new gold pen and gave him her autograph.

"Spasiba! Spasiba!"

As Dana started to put the pen back in her purse, someone jostled her and the pen fell to the concrete floor. Dana reached down and picked it up. The casing had cracked.