The Cairo Affair by Olen Steinhauer Page A

rare, but when they occurred they often saved him. He felt it in his thighs, a weight that mocked Paolo Bertolli’s fat legs, and his thoughts turned labyrinthine, motivations twisting upon themselves until, in a sudden burst of clarity, a simple truth presented itself. In that warm Audi, he realized that his questions for Zora Balašević were entirely beside the point. Dragan simply wanted to bring in a woman who he now knew had had access to reams of classified American material— that was his real interest.
    Stan imagined the hours since their lunch: Dragan’s piqued interest, looking into Balašević, then the disappointment that he hadn’t actually extorted Emmett himself. Dragan would have wondered how to make up for his shortcomings. Maybe he had called home and learned that, given Balašević’s connections, simply picking her up was out of the question. Therefore, he wanted to come with a different story: Brothers, this is a request from the Americans. We do this, and we get a new level of cooperation. They would bring her in, and Dragan would fly back to sit with her in a barren room in the countryside, with easy access to all the American secrets in her head.
    It wasn’t worth it, not yet at least. “Leave her alone,” he said. “Maybe later I’ll come to you, hat in hand, asking for this. But it’s too early.”
    “I can’t promise that I’ll know where she is later.”
    Stan gave him a smile. “I have faith in you.”
    Dragan smiled then, too. The Paolo Bertolli in Stan knew that Dragan had suspected this outcome from the start, and if he’d gone along with the plan Dragan probably would’ve been disappointed in him. Instead, he’d earned a little respect from the old spy. Perhaps it was that respect that led Dragan to pat Stan’s knee lightly and say, “There is one more thing, my friend. While I might enjoy watching you chase your tail, I will admit that I did know about that meeting between Zora Balašević and Emmett Kohl. This is why she came to Cairo. She claimed she had an old friend in the American embassy she could extort. A very forthright woman, Zora. She convinced Belgrade, and Belgrade sent her here. She approached Emmett and made her case to him. According to her, he refused. A patriot, she called Emmett. Soon afterward, she was no longer working for us, because we had discovered her connection to the Egyptians.”
    Stan felt as if Dragan had tossed him a live grenade, shattering his entire vision of the last year. If Emmett hadn’t been leaking to Balašević, then it meant that he’d been wrong from the start. Did that mean that someone else in the embassy had been selling information? If so, Emmett and Sophie never would have had to leave town. He and Sophie could have remained together. Emmett, perhaps, would still be alive. Stan squeezed his forehead. “Did you believe her?”
    “I did,” Dragan said, musing over this. “Until, that is, we realized she had those new employers. I thought to myself, Why would the Egyptians want an old bitch like that? ”
    “Because she really did have Emmett.”
    Dragan shrugged, smiling.
    “What did she have on him?”
    “On Emmett?”
    Stan released his forehead and nodded at him. “What was she blackmailing him with?”
    Dragan shrugged. “I have no idea. She wouldn’t share with me, and when I insisted she referred me to those offices in Belgrade, where her protectors work. I’m just a station chief, Stan. I don’t have any actual authority.”
    “Do you know who she reported to in the Egyptian service?”
    Dragan considered this a moment, wondering how much to share, then shrugged. He’d already shared more than Stan would have, but tonight he was feeling generous. “Two meetings in public parks with someone from Ali Busiri’s office. You know Busiri, of course.”
    Of course. Ali Busiri: a tough nut who ran his own section in Al-Amn al-Markazī, the Central Security Forces, where Paul’s source RAINMAN worked.