Partners

     This time Cindy went first and I was to follow within about 15 minutes. None of the 7th floor harem was hanging around the elevator so we seemed to be in the clear acting as if we meet for the first time down in the bar. Cindy wanted me to go straight to where she was sitting and ask if I could join her. She felt it would be a clear sign that I had staked out my claim and it would reduce the chance of any other woman trying to get between us.

     Things worked pretty much as we had planned. Cindy uncrossed her legs and motioned for the bartender to come over after she said, "You are very welcome to join me, sit here." pointing to the end of the booth that allowed us to sit close but also have our knees touching under the table. She reached her hand out and grabbed me on the leg pulling me slightly toward her as if to say, "Good. Keep close."

     The bartender, same fellow who had served Dima and me, came over and asked if it was a beer or a vodka. Cindy suggested vodka and said quietly without looking at me, "After your drink, we will say goodbye and you go to your room. I will make arrangements with the hotel so I have my "license". It may take some time. Your seventh floor ladies are trying to block my activity here."

     I understood what she was suggesting and saw that two of these ladies were sitting directly behind us. I nearly reached over and thumped one of them but Cindy could sense I was not happy with what she had said and made a face that said, "Not a problem, they aren't worth it." At that same moment, I saw my young friend, Vincent, who had delivered the Champagne and biscuits earlier walking toward the bar with a tray. He didn't seem particularly rushed so I motioned toward him to get his attention. He saw me and smiled, put his tray down, and came over to where Cindy and I were sitting.

     "Hello Mr. Mays! How are you this evening?" he was still smiling as he excitedly greeted us. Looking at Cindy, he waited for me to introduce her. "This is Cindy, Vincent. She is having some issues with the hotel and I would be grateful if you would help clear things up or direct her to someone who can do that quickly."

     "Why of course, Mr. Mays. We'll help Cindy immediately. I am on break and can escort her to the Assistant Manager for the evening shift whenever she is ready."  Vincent looked at Cindy and she said, "Just a couple of minutes, thank you."  Vincent went back to the bar and stood waiting for Cindy.

     I leaned into Cindy's ear and said, "I hope that was ok." She quickly replied with uncharacteristic sexiness in her voice, "That was perfect, Mr. Mays. See you soon."   I drank my vodka in one gulp and then we kissed each other on the cheek and I left for my room. Cindy and Vincent disappeared for the front desk and the seventh floor harem appeared to be losing interest in us. Luckily there was quite a crowd now...and 90% men on the prowl. Cindy and I would soon fade from the harem's memory.  I was also thinking about Vincent as I made my way to my room. If he, in fact, was going to painlessly help Cindy and would keep taking my money for little jobs, why not ask him to help us by signalling when Anatoly and Georg arrived and somehow assist in monitoring them. I had some ideas for getting Vincent motivated without revealing who they really were...and for that matter...who we really were.

***

     "Your Vincent is a hero." Cindy said as she entered the room no more than 15 minutes after we parted downstairs in the bar.

     "Good. I have some plans for him if you agree."  I said. Cindy smiled and said, "Let me guess. He will help us with the Anatoly-Georg project...no?!"   "You are absolutely right. We will see how much we can trust him but, at minimum, he can signal the minute they arrive, and we can go into action with the other parts of the plan...that we haven't worked on."

     "That's why I am here, Mr. Mays." she said as she began taking notes on the cheap looking hotel stationary on my desk.

     While I didn't voice it, that was what I was afraid of.

     She sat at the desk and organized our plan on the tissue paper-like INTOURIST stationary that was made available in my room. By the time we finished, we had alternative plans for how to go into action depending on how and when Anatoly and Georg would arrive. Split between the two of us and Vincent, the lobby would be covered at all times starting at 6am. There were a lot of places to hang out in and around the lobby that afforded a good view of entrances and the reception desk itself. We considered everything we could think of:
*which door they would come in through
*their possible use of the public telephone
*how they would be standing at the reception desk
*where the luggage would be sitting and what type of luggage they might have
*bags on shoulders or in their hands might be a bigger problem for radiation testing
*what rooms they might be assigned to
*will they use bellmen (we doubted that)
*would they be wearing coats
*could we be found out or suspected and how to react if we smell that they are on to us,
*how much should we try to accomplish in the short time we would have between arrival and getting to their rooms,
*possibilities of additional people being in their party or in tow that could notice our interest in them, *how should we behave with each other...completely independently with separate tasks or as a couple
     As we talked through and argued about the safest and most efficient way of getting things done, I realized that Cindy had done this type of surveillance before and her attention to detail was far more developed than mine.  At one point she asked me to bring out everything that Joe's people had given me. She did not act very impressed with my toolkit and its contents. Probably realizing that I was no professional, she commented, "We'll make due with what we have. It's not much but it could be worse."  Finally, the question of involving Vincent became critical and we took a long time considering his role. In the end it was our decision to limit his involvement so that he thought he was providing added intelligence in gaining an upper hand on our "business competition".

     These questions were all posed, discussed, and answers laid out on the toilet paper-thin stationary that Cindy was working on. I could tell that she had written more than one letter on such fine paper because she never ripped any page throughout the long hours we worked. Only about an hour before we finished did I pull out the champagne and biscuits that Vincent had left earlier in the day. And, I did so when Cindy started to ask if I had anything to snack on. At 3am, we put the paper aside and quietly sipped the decent tasting Soviet "Champagne" while munching on the rather dull cracker/biscuits (something between a cracker and a cookie by American standards). 

     Cindy began to doze off not long after. I offered the bed saying that I had some things to do and would just use the extra blankets and pillow in the sitting room chest of drawers to sleep on. She waved her hand to say no and that she just wanted to stay on the couch until morning. The afghan couch cover fit just over her and I gave her the extra pillow. Before I walked away, she reached up and grabbed my arm and said, "Thank you, Bill. Our first night together!"

I leaned over, kissed her on the top of her head, and said, "Thank you. See you in the morning."

***

     My alarm went off before seven and, suddenly realizing I was unprepared for two very important meetings today, one with the Novosibirsk State University Dean of Economics and faculty and a late afternoon cocktail with the Novosibirsk Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences, I bolted to the bathroom not realizing that Cindy was inside getting ready for the day. She had a towel on and didn't overreact when I nearly ripped the door off its hinges.

     "Oh shit! I'm sorry, Cindy! I'll use the water closet. I panicked. I haven't even prepared for my meetings at NSU and RAS today.  I promised Dima that I would do a part of it in Russian." I was babbling as she was rubbing lotion on her arms and shoulders.

     "Write in English what you want to say in Russian. I will translate it for you and give you a pronunciation guide.  Do it quickly this morning and I will finish it before you leave with Dima." Cindy kindly offered. She added, "Close the door so I can finish...pizhalsta."

     Cindy stuck around that morning after I handed her my abbreviated version of my speech and helped me with improving my Russian pronunciation. Two dry runs and then some suggestions for behaving more Russian and less American to gain a few points of respect were also offered. She approved of my suit and choice of tie so, in that category, I was ok. Her only comment was, "You look good in suit but if you were at least 190 cm's that would be the best."  The front desk called up to say that Dima was waiting for me in the lobby not long after her 190 cm comment.  As I left with my favorite diplomatka and notes from Cindy, I hesitated at the door and asked her, "190 cm's is good for whom?"

The sun was shining through the window behind her so I could not see her face. She only waved goodbye and said, "Good luck, today."