Black Rose

CHAPTER 27

Valentina Antipov sat inside the warmth of a corner café on the Place de la Bastille at a window table and watched the crowds scurry by outside. It was a sunny Saturday and Parisians were out in force. Valentina sipped her espresso and waited for her contact to arrive.

It was unusual for Vysotsky to set up a direct meeting. One never knew who'd been identified by the opposition as someone working for SVR. Every public contact like this ran the risk of exposure. She was certain no one knew who she was or that she worked for Vysotsky. The public atmosphere of the café provided a plausible cover for the meeting. All the same, she wasn't happy about it.

The Valentina Rosetti legend was as good as SVR's master forgers could make it. Her passport was an authentic Italian issue. A deeper probe would discover all the paperwork a young girl growing up in Italy would accumulate. In Italy, there was a lot of paperwork and a bureaucracy noted for resisting attempts to penetrate its official archives. It would be very difficult to prove she was anyone other than she was supposed to be.

The café was crowded and noisy and blue with smoke. The government ban on smoking indoors was sneered at by most of the French. She took out a package of Gitanes, withdrew a cigarette and lit it with a slim, gold lighter Johannes had given her. She smoked Gitanes as much because she liked the blue Deco design of a gypsy woman on the package as for the strong tobacco. She drew the smoke deep into her lungs, exhaled in a long stream and felt herself relax just a little.

Her contact entered the café and came across the room to her table. She knew him only as Lucien. It was all she needed to know.

Lucien leaned down, kissed her lightly on each cheek and sat down across from her. It was a scene repeated a thousand times a day in Paris. He looked like any well-off Parisian man, reasonably handsome, somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s. His suit was well cut of good material, the kind of suit that spoke of respectability and sufficient income to be a likely companion of the beautiful young woman sitting across from him.

"Cheri. Good to see you." He spoke to her in French

Valentina answered in the same language. "And you, Lucien."

A harassed waiter came by. Lucien ordered a croissant and coffee in rapid, impeccable French.

When he was gone, Lucien said, "Armand is pleased with your last report."

Armand was General Vysotsky.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"He would like you to do something for him."

Lucien reached into his jacket pocket and took out a small flash drive, no bigger than a thumbnail, and placed it on the table near her coffee cup. She lifted the coffee to her lips and palmed the drive at the same time.

Anyone watching would have seen only two lovers talking. Perhaps they were planning an evening at the theater. Perhaps he was asking her to his hotel room. Anything was possible in Paris, between a man and a woman having coffee in a café.

"Insert the drive into the computer that you copied for Armand," Lucien said.

"What does it do?"

"It will add a line of code that will allow us to intercept his communications. The computer must be on, of course. It only takes a minute. You'll see a progress bar on the screen. Get rid of the drive after it's done. "

"He usually keeps his laptop with him and it's always off except when he's working. It could be a problem."

"It wasn't a problem before," Lucien said. He smiled, but his voice was cold. "I'm sure you'll find another opportunity."

"As you say," Valentina said. She stubbed out her Gitane and lit another.

"How can you stand those?" Lucien said. "I much prefer American cigarettes."

"I like the flavor."

The waiter brought the coffee and croissant. Lucien took a bite of the pastry.

"I'm really quite fond of these," he said. "Somehow they don't taste quite the same outside of France. When is the next time he'll be here?"

There was no need for him to say who he was talking about.

"Tomorrow. He's coming in to meet with the directors of his French bank."

"Good." Lucien finished the croissant and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "This man has become a priority. Get to that computer as quickly as possible."