The Traitor's Story

Katerina was mesmerized by the procession of small islands—some within shouting distance of the boat—with their brightly painted wooden houses and jetties, and the blue and yellow of Swedish flags fluttering. A couple of times, he asked her if she was warm enough, but it appeared she didn’t feel the cold, so wrapped up was she in the beauty of this bright new country.

Only as the boat came alongside the dock did she turn away from the railing and look at him, accepting that the time had come to go back to the cabin. Other passengers were already massing near the exits, and he decided it was better for them to let the crowds disperse a little.

So they sat for a while when they got back to the cabin, and Katerina said to him, “I’m . . .” She couldn’t think of the word, and demonstrated by holding her hand out and shaking it as if trembling.

“Nervous?”

“Nervous,” she said, trying out the word. Then she nodded. “Yes. A little.”

After all she had been through.

“That’s natural. This is something new, and you’ll have a new life, but you’ll soon get used to it.”

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not.”

She nodded, accepting the fact for what it was, and he was hardly surprised, given the losses she’d known and the stoicism with which she’d faced them.

Once the boat had docked and they’d disembarked, they took a taxi to the Vasa Museum. It was a large, modern warehouse of a building from the outside, and though Finn had heard of it, he’d never quite taken onboard what it was. He knew its only exhibit was a salvaged ship, the Vasa, but no more than that.

As they stepped into the vast hall, he stopped, awestruck by the sight of the seventeenth-century warship housed there, its masts rising up into the subdued light, people on the tiered floors that surrounded it, looking at the ship from different levels. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

Katerina seemed equally stunned, and spoke in Russian before saying, “It’s wonderful.”

Finn nodded, then saw Valentin from the corner of his eye, standing guard near the doors. He was smiling, waiting for Finn to notice him, and Finn walked over now and shook his hand.

“Good to see you, Valentin.”

“You too, Mr. Harrington. It’s amazing, no?”

“Stunning.” Valentin nodded toward where Alex was standing, looking up at the towering, dark hull. Finn nodded, too, and said, “I’ll leave the bags with you.”

“Of course.”

He returned to Katerina then and said, “You can look around if you want to. I’ll be talking to that man over there.”

She looked in Alex’s direction and said, “That’s him?” She was peering, wanting to match the man she could see with the man she’d seen on television. The pale-gray suit and open-necked shirt, the short hair, the slight tan—all were familiar enough. Finn thought he always looked more trim and physically fitter in person than he did on TV.

“That’s him.” He pointed. “Look, there are different floors. You can go down and look underneath the ship or go all the way to the top.”

She said, “I can go?”

“Yes.” She nodded and walked away—unsure at first, then swept up in the drama of the ship itself.

Finn approached Alex, who turned before he got there and embraced him, saying, “Finn, isn’t this the most extraordinary thing you’ve seen?”

Finn looked up the vertiginous side of the ship and said, “It’s quite overwhelming.”

Alex held his arms out as if displaying something he’d just bought. “Sank on her maiden voyage in 1628 and lay undisturbed on the bottom of Stockholm harbor until 1961. One man believed it was there, found it, salvaged it intact. Such an inspiring story.”

“Incredible,” said Finn, and he knew now that his earlier comment to Katerina had been the truth—he would write a history book, whether it was published or not.

“So, let’s talk,” said Alex. “That was the girl, you just came in with?”

“Yeah, her name’s Katerina. She’s thirteen. She’s an orphan. Karasek trafficked her to Tallinn—you probably heard what happened after that.”

“Will she need to see a doctor?”

“No. Luckily for her, Karasek wanted her for himself, so she hasn’t been raped.”

Alex shook his head in disbelief. For all the things he’d done in his life, there were still things that filled him with as much horror as anyone else.

Then he smiled and waved his hand at the room as he said, “My daughter is in here somewhere—she’s fourteen now . . .”

“Really? I remember her being so small.”

Alex laughed. “Wait until you have your own children, Finn—it’s an even bigger shock. But it’s good, they can be companions until we decide what to do with the girl.”

“Thank you for doing this, Alex.”

“This was nothing. What you did was something. Now, do you want to know what happens to her? Is it wise for you to know, if Karasek wants the girl so much?”

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