***
“Well what do you know about that?” the Captain said. “For once those Washington guys seem to be getting it right.”
“So we just tell them something we know perfectly well not to be true?” Dr. Atkinson asked haughtily.
“Welcome to the world of diplomacy, Doctor. It may not be pretty, but that’s how it’s done.”
Dr. Atkinson looked accusingly at Dr. Fredricks, who averted his eyes, and made a gesture which was enough to say that being in a bureaucratic position in a scientific organization had its compromises, but which had to be allowed.
“Tell them to come in,” the Captain said to Marsha, Dr. Fredricks’ assistant. She left the room, only to return an instant later.
“Gentlemen,” the Captain said convivially to the wary looking Russians who entered the office. “We know where they are and where we can find them. They have gone to the Italian base of Terra Nova, which is not far from here.”
Gregore waited for the translation before answering.
“They say they have taken him to the Italians?” he asked the interpreter.
“Yes, that is what they say.”
“Do they have any better idea of why?” he asked. The interpreter turned back toward the three Americans.
“Why would there be terrorists here, in Antarctica, and why would they chose to abduct a Soviet citizen? This puzzles us deeply. Have you no idea?” he asked.
The three Americans looked at each other for an instant, as if making silently queries amongst them as to how they should respond. Dr. Atkinson, clearly displeased with having been made a party to the subterfuge as an unwilling accomplice, spoke first, trying to absolve his part with at least one honest answer.
“It is our belief that these environmental activists (refusing to refer to them as terrorists as the others had, regardless of the destruction that had been wrought), seized upon the idea that they could bring attention to their cause by creating a sensation. The media frenzy that is sure to follow will suit their purposes in exposing the project (he appeared to choke while speaking the word) which you yourselves have come to examine. In this I heartily wish them success,” Dr. Atkinson said glaring at the Captain, and at Dr. Fredricks in defiance.
“I see,” the interpreter said with introspection. He then relayed what had been said to Gregore, who nodded silently before requesting that they be given a radio and a closed room so they could confer with their comrades at the Russian base of Mirnyy. It was granted.
“What do you think?” the interpreter asked when they were alone.
“It is the most outrageous bald faced lie I have ever heard,” Gregore said without emotion, but who crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. “It is preposterous to suggest that these protestors would kidnap a Soviet scientist for any reason. No. This is not possible.”
“So you believe the Americans took him after all?”
“No. I do not believe that either.”
“Then what?” asked the interpreter.
“I believe that our comrade,” he emphasized the word ‘comrade’ with a deriding sneer, “merely took the opportunity to commit treason.”
“What!?” the interpreter said in disbelief. “Vladamir? Never!”
“You have not experienced a winter alone with the man. He was sent to us just so that he could not do something like this. I have seen it in him. I should have expected it.”
“Then what do we do?”
Gregore began to dial in the frequency that he knew was monitored at the Russian base of Mirnyy, but which was not on the Americans list of frequented channels.
“We do what we always do. Report, and wait for orders.”