“This is not the problem.”
Dana looked at him, puzzled. “No? Then what is?”
Shdanoff chose his next words carefully. “Have you heard of Krasnoyarsk-26?”
Dana shook her head. “No.”
“I am not surprised. It is not on any map, and the people who live there do not officially exist.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You will see. Tomorrow I will take you there. You are to meet me at the same café at noon.” He put his hand on Dana’s arm, squeezing hard. “You must not tell anyone about this.” He was hurting her. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Orobopeno. It is agreed.”
At noon, Dana arrived at the little café in VDNKh Park. She walked in and sat at the same booth, waiting. Thirty minutes later Shdanoff had still not appeared. What happens now? she wondered anxiously.
“Dobry dyen.” Sasha Shdanoff was standing at the booth. “Come. We must go shopping.”
“Shopping?” she asked incredulously.
“Come!”
Dana followed him out into the park. “Shopping for what?”
“For you.”
“I don’t need—”
Shdanoff hailed a taxi and they rode in a strained silence to a mall. They got out of the taxi, and Shdanoff paid the driver.
“In here,” Sasha Shdanoff said.
They walked inside the mall past half a dozen stores. When they came to a shop with a display of provocative, sexy lingerie in the window, Shdanoff stopped.
“Here.” He led Dana inside.
Dana looked around at the sleazy garments. “What are we doing here?”
“You are going to change clothes.”
A saleslady approached them, and there was a rapid exchange in Russian. The saleslady nodded and a few moments later returned with a hot pink miniskirt and a beribboned, very low-cut blouse.
Shdanoff nodded his approval. “Da.” He turned to Dana. “You will put these on.”
Dana recoiled. “No! I’m not going to wear that. What do you—”
“You must.” His voice was firm.
“Why?”
“You will see.”
Dana thought, The man is some kind of sex maniac. What the devil have I gotten myself into?
Shdanoff was watching her. “Well?”
Dana took a deep breath. “All right.” She went into a tiny dressing room and put the outfit on. When she came out, she looked in a mirror and gasped. “I look like a whore.”
“Not yet,” Shdanoff informed her. “We are going to get you some makeup.”
“Commissar—”
“Come.”
Dana’s clothes were stuffed into a paper bag. Dana put on her wool coat, trying to hide her outfit as much as possible. They started walking through the mall again. Passersby were staring at Dana, and men were giving her knowing smiles. A workman winked at her. Dana felt degraded.
“In here!”
They were in front of a beauty salon. Sasha Shdanoff went inside. Dana hesitated, then followed him. He walked to the counter.
“Ano tyomnyj,” he said.
The beautician showed him a tube of a bright red lipstick and a jar of rouge.
“Savirshehnstva,” Shdanoff said. He turned to Dana. “Put it on. Heavy.”
Dana had had enough. “No, thanks. I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, Commissar, but I’m not going to be a part of it. I’ve had—”
His eyes bored into hers. “I assure you it is not a game, Miss Evans. Krasnoyarsk-26 is a closed city. I am one of the select few with access to it. They allow a very, very few of us outsiders to bring in prostitutes for the day. That is the only possible way I can get you past the guards. That and a case of excellent vodka as payment for your entry. Are you interested or not?”
Closed city? Guards? How far are we going with this? “Yes,” Dana reluctantly decided. “I’m interested.”
XXII
THERE WAS A MILITARY jet waiting at a private area of Sheremetyevo II airport. Dana was surprised to see that she and Sasha Shdanoff were the only passengers.
“Where are we going?” Dana asked.
Sasha Shdanoff gave her a mirthless smile. “To Siberia.”
Siberia. Dana felt a knot in her stomach. “Oh.”
The flight took four hours. Dana tried to make conversation, hoping to get an inkling of what she was facing, but Shdanoff sat in his seat, silent and grim-faced.