Read Mazurka for Free Online Page A

it more specific? Could a total stranger read it and understand exactly what events are planned inside the Soviet Union a few days from now? Was it written in some kind of code? You see the threat, of course, Viktor. In the wrong hands, this information could be disastrous for all of us.”
    Epishev was silent. From his long association with Greshko, he knew that the old man’s questions were not intended to be simply rhetorical. Greshko had no time for verbal sophistry. When he asked questions, he wanted answers. The correct answers. It was really that simple. Romanenko had gone to Edinburgh to deliver a message. Greshko needed to know what had happened to it. A great deal depended on finding out. Epishev placed his palms together, rubbed them. There must have been a look of some uncertainty on his face because Greshko said, “You still haven’t overcome your fear, have you, Viktor? You’re still unconvinced, aren’t you?”
    Greshko reached for a small bottle on the bedside table. He opened it and held it up to his mouth. It contained Brezhnev’s old remedy for all illnesses, valerian root and vodka flavoured with zubravka grass. Greshko was convinced that it was the only thing that kept him alive.
    â€œI’m not afraid, General,” Epishev replied. But he wasn’t absolutely sure.
    â€œEverybody feels fear at some time or other, Viktor. There’s no shame in saying so. I know you, Viktor, and I know what runs through your mind. Romanenko was an enemy of the State. He was involved in a conspiracy against our beloved country. Right? And since you are being asked to take part in this same conspiracy against a State you’ve served so faithfully for most of your life, the words treachery and sedition pop into your mind, don’t they, Viktor? But that’s muddled thinking! The State you served no longer exists, Colonel. The Russia you love is being dismantled in front of our eyes – and if something isn’t done quickly, it will cease to exist in any recognisable way.” Greshko paused and snatched a couple of deep breaths, his shrunken lungs filling to their inadequate capacity.
    â€œViktor,” Greshko said, and his hand went out once more to touch the back of Epishev’s wrist, a chill connection of flesh that made Epishev want to shudder. “Any major blow against this new regime has a damned good chance of destroying it and that should be a cause for rejoicing. Romanenko’s conspiracy can only hasten the end of those charlatans who’ve seized power. They’ve encouraged certain freedoms. They’ve told those ethnic minorities that their rights are to be respected, haven’t they? They’ve manufactured a climate in which every dissident moron feels it his duty to argue and squabble with the State. So let them suffer the consequences of what they’ve created in this country. The quicker they’re booted out of office, the better. The means don’t matter a damn.”
    Greshko paused a moment. “And the beauty of it is that there are no files on Romanenko in any KGB office! There’s nothing on any of the computers! There’s absolutely no trace of Romanenko’s association with this conspiracy! We’ve been watching Romanenko for years, and we’ve known what he’s been planning because he lived in our damned pockets and never suspected a thing because we were always careful …” And he laughed, because his own foresight delighted him. When he’d seen the changes coming after the death of Brezhnev, and then later the demise of the hapless Chernenko, he’d taken the trouble to remove all kinds of information from the KGB, knowing a day would come when it would be useful to him. And that day, Epishev thought, had arrived with a vengeance.
    â€œAre you with me, Viktor? Are you still loyal to me?”
    Epishev replied, “I’ve never been disloyal to you, have