The Kremlin Games(73)
Chapter 41
“What the hell took so long, Cass?” Bernie asked.
Cass Lowry glared at him from beneath the hood of his camouflage-fabric parka. “Everything you can think of, dude. Everything. Hail. Freezing rain. A goddamn storm at sea. So don’t gripe at me. I got the damn thing here, didn’t I? Not to mention the drums. And let me tell you, those were a ring-tailed son of a bitch, they really were. And expensive! You’d never believe what Gorchakov had to pay for those fifty-five gallon drums, not to mention what’s in them.”
Bernie decided yelling at Cass wouldn’t help, so he grinned. “You’re right. I’m happier than you know to have fifty-five gallons of gas, I promise you. And motor oil. That’s a bonus I didn’t expect.”
Cass smirked. “I told Brandy. I told her and that Vladimir the same thing. ‘It’s not going to do any good if you just send the car,’ I said. ‘You’ve got to send some gas and oil.’ It cost Vladimir a bundle, Bernie. But he did it. And there’s a whole pile of boxes in the wagons, too. Everything anybody could think of to send you is in a box or wrapped up in the trunk of the car. Brandy hit every garage sale and junk sale she could to find stuff to send you. And books—you’ll never believe the books. Piles of them.”
“Great. We need every one we can find. Come on. Let’s go get the introductions over with. Things are kind of formal around here, Cass. You need to watch your step. Just follow my lead and things will probably be okay.”
* * *
“Natalia Petrovna Gorchakov, may I introduce Cass Lowry. Cass, this is Vladimir’s sister, Natalia Petrovna. And this is her aunt, Madame Sofia Gorchakov. And this is Anya, our accountant.”
Bernie thought he’d done a credible job on the introduction until Cass opened his big mouth.
“If you’re Vladimir’s sister, why isn’t your name Natasha? That’s what Brandy said, Natasha.”
Bernie sort of kicked Cass in the ankle and made a face at him. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured. “Just say hello—and be polite, will you?”
Cass glared a bit, but nodded. “Ma’am, I’m pleased to meet you. I did bring a load of letters for you. They’re from your brother and Brandy. And there are some presents, too. They’re in one of the boxes.”
Natasha nodded graciously. “My thanks. We appreciate your trouble and invite you to share our hospitality at the Dacha for a while. Vladimir Petrovich was pleased that you accepted his commission.”
“Yeah, well, I stung him pretty good on the fee.” Cass snickered.
Bernie knew there was going to be trouble sooner or latter. Cass was acting like he was still up-time and still a football star. “Natalia Petrovna, we will take our leave of you for the moment,” Bernie said. “My friend and I need to have a talk. If you will excuse us?”
Natasha inclined her head. “Certainly, Bernie. Perhaps we shall see you and Cass at dinner?” Bernie suppressed a groan. Cass, Natasha, dinner . . . what was wrong with that combination? Bernie didn’t want to think about it.
* * *
Dinner was tense, to say the least. The Russians were showing restraint and Cass needed to be in restraints. He was behaving like a boor, to the point where Bernie was seriously considering knocking him out. Unfortunately, most of the Russians present understood quite a bit of English. Natasha had an aptitude for language and was getting fairly close to fluency.
To make things still worse, it turned out that Cass had an aptitude for language also. Bernie hadn’t expected that at all. He was certain that if she’d been present, their former Spanish language teacher in high school, Guadelupe DiCastro, would have been struck dumb with astonishment. Bernie had gotten a B-minus in her class but Cass had almost flunked it completely.
Cass wasn’t actually stupid, though, although he could sure put on a good imitation. When he decided to learn something and applied himself, he could usually manage it pretty well. So, on the long trip here he’d apparently learned some Russian. Not enough to really get by, but enough to be able to insult people in two languages instead of just one.
It was worse for Anya, Bernie was pretty sure, because this was her first time at the nobility’s table. Her friendship with Natasha was still fairly new, after all.
“Yeah,” Cass was saying, “winding up back here before the world got civilized was sort of hard. It was a boon to the here-and-now, but God was playing a nasty trick on us up-timers. Wars all over the damn place, the food sucks, and there’s all this religious bullshit, too. Every time you turn around someone is in your face about religion. When the Ring of Fire made it clear that none of your religions had a clue what God had in mind.”