Bulgrov did the introductions. “Dmitri Petrov and?—”
“Bob,” interrupted the second man. “I call self Bob Smith. Good American name, da?”
Dmitri Petrov looked to be in his fifties. A formidable man in size and girth, his round cheeks reminded her of a squirrel readying himself for winter.
Bob Smith was Halston’s height—five-six—with a shaved head, square face, and muscular physique. One of his front teeth was missing.
“Privet, kak pozhivayesh'?” Halston said.Hello. How are you doing?
Dmitri’s dull brown eyes drilled into her. “What do you do?”
“Ambassador Bulgrov’s assistant.”
“You’re being modest, Minka,” Bulgrov said. “Minka Kotov is also our lead translator. Did you meet your team yet?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied.
“Mne nuzhno idti,” Dmitri snapped. “Seychas.”I need to go. Now.
Ambassador Bulgrov’s cheeks flamed crimson. “You never gave me the date.”
“January 15th,” Dmitri barked. “Remember that.” Then, he fixed his drab stare on Halston. “I need translator for special assignment. She’ll do.”
“No,” Bulgrov pushed back. “Minka’s too valuable here. She’ll arrange for someone on her team.”
“Mozhno li yey doveryat'?”Is she trustworthy?
“Of course,” Bulgrov bit out. “She’s standing right here… and she speaks Russian, for fuck’s sake!”
What is going on here?
Halston wanted to bring the heat level down, but she also knew her place. She was the assistant, so she stayed silent.
“My ispol'zuyem yeyo inache,” said Dmitri Petrov. “Davayte pogovorim v koridore.”We’ll use her in different way. Let’s talk in hallway.
Dmitri Petrov marched out and glared at Bulgrov from the corridor.
Bead of perspiration dotted the ambassador’s forehead. Never before had she seen him so flustered.
“I need to get to work,” Halston said to the other Russian, Bob Smith. “Excuse me.”
“Day mne svoy nomer. Skhodim v klub,” Bob Smith said.Give me your number. We’ll go clubbing.
“I work all the time.”
“Govorite po-russki,” he said ogling her chest.Speak Russian.
“Ambassador Bulgrov wants us to speak English, for practice.”
“You no need practice.” Bob pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Number.”
She shook her head.
“Yes!” Bob yelled.
Bulgrov and Dmitri Petrov rushed back in.
Ambassador Bulgrov regarded Bob Smith. “What’s the problem?”
