Aces Abroad

IV.

There were many signs in Russian at the British Airways terminal at Robert Tomlin International Airport, placed there by members of Jewish Relief, headquartered in nearby Brighton Beach. For Jews who managed to emigrate from the Eastern bloc, even those who dreamed of eventually settling in Palestine, this was their Ellis Island.

Among those debarking this day in May was a stocky man in his early sixties, dressed like a typical middle-class emigre, in brown shirt buttoned to the neck and well-worn gray jacket. A woman from Relief stepped forward to help him. "Strasvitye s Soyuzom Statom," she said in Russian, "Welcome to the United States."

"Thank you," the man replied in English.

The woman was pleased. "If you already speak the language, you will find things very easy here. May I help you?"

"No, I know what I'm doing."

Out there, in the city, waited Dr. Tachyon, living in fear of their next encounter, wondering what it would mean to his very special grandson. To the south, Washington, and Senator Hartmann, a formidable target. But Polyakov would not work alone. No sooner had he gone underground in England than he had managed to contact the shattered remains of Molniya's network. Next week Gimli would be joining him in America…

As he waited for customs to clear his meager luggage, Polyakov could see through the windows that it was a beautiful American summer day.