And afterwards, he had prepared drinks and they toasted the future and discussed plans and then Laniq had gone to the telephone and called Chenkov.
"I have to see you, Vladimir. I missed you every minute." Tedor stood nearby; she kissed the tip of his nose.
Tedor was so close he heard the voice faintly over the receiver. "I'm busy, but I'll put it aside. Dinner and then my dacha for the night, darling Anna."
That was Laniq's name here in Russia, Anna Myinkov. As Anna Myinkov she had on previous visits captivated the hearts of Chenkov and others. Only fat Georgi Malenkov, she had told Tedor, had been impossibly aloof. Of course, the extent of her captivation was information. She could learn what was happening, but Tedor somehow would have to put it to use.
"I'll pick you up in an hour, Anna."
"An hour, then," and Laniq cut the connection, turning into Tedor's arms.
Tedor scowled. "Just what—happens at his dacha?"
Laniq laughed softly. "Silly Tedor, we're not married yet." But her eyes were twinkling.
"What happens?"
"You leave that to me, but I can tell you this: if I gave Chenkov what he could get, and gladly, from any Russian beauty, he'd tire of me."