“Damn it,” the navigator said, “you can’t come in here. Nobody comes in but the doctor. This is United States territory.”
The MVD men said something in Russian.
“No,” the navigator said. “Definitely no.”
One of the MVD men spat something that sounded like an insult.
The navigator shrugged. “I don’t understand Russian,” he told them. “All I know is one word. No. Nyet Definitely, absolutely irrevocably nyet.”
“Sikin sin Amerikanyets!”
The MVD men turned, as if they’d been a sister act, and went down the steps. The navigator followed them, wiping his forehead and breathing deeply. Malone shut the door.
“Well, well, well,” the doctor said, in a burbling sort of voice. “Somehow, we thought it might be you. Anyhow, the ambassador did.”
“Really?” Malone said, trying to sound surprised.
“Oh, yes,” the doctor assured him. “You have raised something of a stench in and around good old Moscow, you know.”