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Four men sat across the poker table from him. None smoked, and Schiller diplomatically refrained from lighting his cigar. A small bundle of cedar logs crackled in an antique mariner's stove, taking the edge off an early fall chill. The burning cedar gave an agreeable aroma to the teak-paneled dining saloon inside Schiller's yacht. The beautifully proportioned 35-meter-motor sailer was moored in the Potomac River near South Island just opposite Alexandria, Virginia.
Soviet Deputy Chief of Mission Aleksey Korolenko, heavybodied and composed, wore a fixed jovial expression that had become his trademark in Washington's social circles.
"A pity we're not playing in Moscow," he said in a stern but mocking tone. "I know a nice spot in Siberia where we could send the dealer."
"I second the motion," said Schiller. He looked at the man wfio had dealt the cards. "Next time, Date, shuffle them up."
"If your hands are so rotten," growled Dale Nichols, Special Assistant to the President, "why don't you fold?"
Senator George Pitt, who headed up the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, stood and removed a salmon-colored sport jacket. He draped it over the back of the chair and turned to Yuri Vyhousky.
"I don't know what these guys are complaining about. You and I have yet to will a pot."
The Soviet Embassy's Special Adviser on American Affairs nodded. "I haven't seen a good hand since we all began playing five years ago."
The nightly poker sessions had indeed been held on Sctfiller's boat since 1986, and went far beyond a simple card game between friends who needed one evening out of the week to unwilld. It was originally set up as a small crack in the wall separating the opposing superpowers. Alone, without an official setting and inaccessible to the news media, they could informally give and take viewpoints while ignoring bureaucratic red tape and diplomatic protocol. ideas and information were exchanged that often had a direct bearing on Soviet-American relations.
"I open for fifty cents," announced Schiller.
"I'll raise that a dollar," said Korolenko.
"And they wonder why we don't trust them," Nichols groaned.
The Senator spoke to Korolenko without looking at him. "What's the prediction from your side on open revolt in Egypt, Aleksey?"
"I give President Hasan no more than days before his government is overthrown by Akhmad Yazid."
:'You don't see a prolonged fight?"
'No, not if the military throws its weight behind Yazid."
"You in, Senator?" asked Nichols.
"I'll go along for the ride."
"Yujri?"
Vyhousky dropped fifty-cent pieces in the pot.
"Since Husan took over after Mubarak's resignation," said Schiller,
"he's achieved a level of stability. I he'll holdon ' . 'You said the same about the Shah of Iran," Korolenko goaded.
"No denying we called the wrong shots." Schffler paused and dropped his throwaway cards on the table. "Let me have two."
Korolenko held up one finger and received his card. "You might as well pour your massive aid into a bottomless pit. The Egyptian masses are on the brink of starvation. A situation that fuels the surge of religious fanaticism sweeping the slums and villages. You stand as little chance of stopping Yazid as you did Khomeini."
"And what is the Kremlin's stance?" asked Senator Pitt.
"We wait," said Korolenko impassively. "We wait until the dust settles."
Schiller eyed his cards and shifted them around. "No matter the outcome, nobody wills."
"True, we all lose. You may be the great Satan in the eyes of Islamic fundamentalists, but as good Communist atheists we're not loved either.
I don't have to tell you the biggest loser is Israel. With the disastrous defeat of Iraq by Iran and the assassination of President Saddam Husayn, the road is now open for him and Syria to threaten the moderate Arab nations into combining forces for a massive three-front attack against Israel. The Jews will surely be defeated this time."
The Senator shook his head doubtfully. "The Israelis have the finest fighting machine in the Middle East. They've won before, and they're prepared to do it again."
