THE SKY IS FALLING BY SIDNEY SHELDON

“Did you get to see Shdanoff?” he asked.

“No. They’re going to call me back.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Dana. You’re dealing with a bureaucracy from another planet.”

Early the following morning, Dana went back to the Bureau for International Economic Development. The same guard was at the desk.

“Dobry dyen,” Dana said.

He looked up at her, stone-faced. “Dobry dyen.”

“Did Commissar Shdanoff get my message yesterday?”

“Your name?”

“Dana Evans.”

“You left a message yesterday?”

“Yes,” she said tonelessly, “with you.”

The guard nodded. “Then he received it. All messages are received.”

“May I talk to Commissar Shdanoff’s secretary?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Dana took a deep breath. “No.”

The guard shrugged. “Izvinitye, nyet.”

“When can I—?”

“Somebody will call you.”

On her way back to the hotel, Dana passed Detsky Mir, a children’s department store, and she went inside and looked around. There was a section devoted to games. In one corner was a shelf of computer games. Kemal will like one of those, Dana thought. She bought a game and was surprised at how expensive it was. She headed back to the hotel to wait for the phone call. At six o’clock she gave up hope. She was about to go downstairs to dinner when the phone rang. Dana hurried over to it and picked it up.

“Dana?” It was Tim Drew.

“Yes, Tim.”

“Any luck yet?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, while you’re in Moscow, you shouldn’t miss what’s great here. The ballet is on tonight. They’re doing Giselle. Are you interested?”

“Very much, thank you.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

The ballet was held at the six-thousand-seat Palace of Congresses inside the Kremlin. It was a magical evening. The music was wonderful, the dancing was fantastic, and the first act flew by swiftly.

As the lights came on for the intermission, Tim got to his feet. “Follow me. Quick.”

A stampede was starting up the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.”

When they arrived at the top floor, they were greeted by the sight of half a dozen serving tables laden with bowls of caviar and bottles of vodka on ice. The theatergoers who had arrived upstairs first were busily helping themselves.

Dana turned to Tim. “They really know how to put on a show here.”

Tim said, “This is how the upper class lives. Remember that thirty percent of the people live below the poverty line.”

Dana and Tim moved toward the windows, away from the crowd.

The lights started to flash. “Time for the second act.”

The second act was enchanting, but Dana’s mind kept flashing back to snatches of conversations.

Taylor Winthrop was scheisse. He was clever, very clever. He framed me…

It was an unfortunate accident. Gabriel was a wonderful boy…

Taylor Winthrop wiped out the Mancino family’s future…

When the ballet ended, and they were in the car, Tim Drew said, “Would you like to have a nightcap at my apartment?”

Dana turned to look at him. He was attractive, intelligent, and charming. But he was not Jeff. What came out was “Thank you, Tim. But no.”

“Oh.” His disappointment was obvious. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d love to, but I have to be ready early in the morning.” And I’m madly in love with someone else.

Early the next morning Dana was at the Bureau for International Economic Development again. The same guard was behind the desk.

“Dobry dyen.”

“Dobry dyen.”

“I’m Dana Evans. If I can’t see the commissar, can I see his assistant?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I—”

He handed Dana a sheet of paper. “You will fill this out…”

When Dana returned to her room, her cell phone was ringing, and Dana’s heart skipped a beat.

“Dana…”

“Jeff!”

There was so much they wanted to say. But Rachel stood between them like a ghostly shadow, and they could not discuss what was uppermost in their minds: Rachel’s illness. The conversation was guarded.

The call from Commissar Shdanoff’s office came unexpectedly at eight o’clock the following morning. A heavily accented voice said, “Dana Evans?”

“Yes.”

“This is Yerik Karbava, the assistant to Commissar Shdanoff. You wish to see the commissar?”

“Yes!” She half expected him to say, “Do you have an appointment?” Instead he said, “Be at the Bureau for Economic Development in exactly one hour.”

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