Troika | Page 9

too, was in love with Mary.
David graduated from Law School that June. He and Mary were married in the Fall, just after he passed his Bars. Two years later, Mary received her doctorate and their son was born. Within four years, David and Mary were divorced. David resented Mary's burgeoning career. He constantly denigrated her efforts and insulted her in the presence of his colleagues. What David wanted was a beautiful ornament he could dangle on his arm when they were in public.
Mary came from a solidly middle class family from Oak Forest, Illinois. All four of her grandparents had arrived in the United States at the turn of the century. They had fulfilled their dreams.
Her father, a bio-chemist, had encouraged Mary's interest in science. A brilliant student, she had won first a full scholarship to Swarthmore College, where she graduated with highest honors and then fellowships and teaching assistantships at Columbia University, working on a Ph.D. in Atomic Physics.
After the divorce David moved to Hong Kong, where he established a law firm specializing in international corporate mergers. Mary and the boy moved to California, where she became a Senior Physicist at Lawrence-Livermore Laboratories.
At about that time, Henry had completed a tour of duty with the Navy and was recruited to the CIA by his present boss, Philip Miller. Although he was transferred from post to post, over the years he kept in contact with Mary and young David.
Mary lifted her face, put an arm around Hank's neck and drew him down for a long kiss.
"What a hell of a time to find out we're in love", he said. "I was a damn fool to let David have you. It's an old story between us--what ever David wants, David gets, no matter what, nor whom, it hurts."
They entered the hotel lobby arm-in-arm and went up to Mary's room. She motioned him to a place beside her on the bed. He sat down beside Mary who leaned her head against him.
Hank began to caress her, gently moving his hands over her smooth, warm body. Mary responded by turning toward him and moving his hands to her breasts. She reached behind her and partially unzipped her dress. The zipper stuck. Mary guided Henry's left hand to her back. He tugged at the recalcitrant zipper, which became unstuck, and moved down. He reached in and unhooked her bra.
Mary loosened and removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and began to fumble with his trousers and belt. All the while they continued kissing. In moments, they were undressed and passionately making love as if to erase the years between Mary's divorce and the realization that they had been in love--for God knows how long. Later they lay entwined in each other as they slept.
When Mary's wake-up call came, Hank reached over and sleepily handed the phone to Mary. "It's for you," he mumbled.
Mary took the phone and gently placed it back on its base. Quietly, dreamily, she turned into Henry's arms as they softly began to rouse, and arouse, themselves to make love once more.
Playfully, Mary ejected him from her bed. "Go home, love," she said. "Meet me in the coffee shop for breakfast. I love you. Now, scram. If you see anyone in the hall, just smile. Let them try to figure out why."
He left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Although there was no one in the hallway, he smiled as he moved down the corridor to his room.
Philadelphia, Pa.
5 November
0500 Hours
Colonel General Grigory Osipovich Obadivsky awoke with a start. He had dreamt--again--the nightmare he had lived through in Afghanistan. Once more he was in the headquarters tent of the XVII Corps when the shelling began. He never heard the rocket-launched grenade that hit the tent, knocked him unconscious, and left him with the severe leg injury which even now caused him to limp slightly.
Slowly, the room came into focus. He was not in Afghanistan, but in a hotel room in Philadelphia. The leg was throbbing. Obadivsky eased himself out of bed, put his weight on his good leg and limped to the bathroom, where he took several ibuprofen tablets that he had purchased earlier in the day at the hotel's lobby shop.
He washed his face, went back to bed, cursing the foul weather and tried, unsuccessfully, to get back to sleep. Resignedly, he got out of bed, walked across the room and headed for the shower. Sometimes a hot shower combined with the medication helped him to get back to sleep. He stood silently in the shower stall letting the hot water pour over him. After soaping himself, he looked down at the scar on his leg. It was changing from white to red. Obadivsky winced as he stepped out of the stall. This time, the combined hot shower and