ACT IV
Walking through the Place des
She squeezed his hand. “You’re doing it again.”
She did enjoy the attention, but felt a little self-conscious. She had teased him about it at dinner in a romantic restaurant in the Marais. He had told her that he couldn’t help staring at her. He said her earrings were picking up the candlelight and casting hypnotizing shadows. He told her, ”I’m now completely under your spell.”
“Really?” she responded.
“Yes, I can only hope you’ll be gentle with me.”
She had slipped her foot out of her shoe and reached under the table to caress his ankle with her toes, “Always.”
Now, walking through
“I’m taking it all in.” He assured her, eyes not leaving hers.
“You’re going to walk into a lamp post.”
“You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
She laughed and leaned closer to him. He was especially dashing in a new black suit, white shirt, and silver tie. The cufflinks were a perfect match and she thought he was genuinely delighted with them.
He steered her toward an unassuming stairwell and down three steps. The door was not marked. As she neared it, a large black man in a handsome tuxedo opened it for her from the inside. With a nod at Rollin he guided them into a cavernous cellar that had been magically transformed into a jazz and blues club.
Most tables were full and Cinnamon was happy to be seated at a nice table off to one side where she could see and hear without being overwhelmed by the band. Rollin reached to help her with her cape. “Champagne okay?” She nodded yes to his question and realized the young blonde singer was singing in English and that her dark glasses were not a prop, but that the singer was blind.
The singer thanked the crowd for the warm welcome and acknowledged the audience’s hearty reception. Her eight-piece combo began the sultry intro to "I’m Not Ashamed to Sing the Blues.” *
When she finished her song, Cinnamon and Rollin joined the enthusiastic applause. The singer announced, "Y’all seem like an intelligent crowd. I bet you can dance and listen to us at the same time. How ‘bout it?" A number of eager couples rose to their feet and took to the small dance floor in front of the band.
Rollin took a sip of champagne, then reached for Cinnamon’s hand and angled his head and an eyebrow toward the dance floor. She smiled and rose just as the first bars of "Moonlight and Shadows" filled the room. She loved to be in his arms. The past day had changed the meaning of every touch. His hand in the small of her back sent electrical charges up and down her body. He sang softly in her ear along with the singer “Even in shadows, baby, I feel no alarm. You belong to me, I belong to you, in your arms.”
She smiled. If there ever was a song to call their own, this had to be it. She whispered to Rollin, “Our song?”
His answer was a smile and more singing, “Close to my heart, darling, you will always be. Never, never, never, never depart from me.”
The crowd applauded the stirring finale. The singer told the club, "Now dat’s better. Here’s a song for those of you lucky enough to be here with someone you love. If you are, now might be a good time to show them." She launched into a beautiful rendition of "When Did You Leave Heaven?" Rollin’s hands slipped to Cinnamon’s hips and her arms went around his neck.
As the sax player stood for his solo to open “Save Your Love for Me,” Rollin pulled Cinnamon even closer and they moved together effortlessly in a sensual grind. The crowd broke into applause as the sax solo finished, but Rollin and Cinnamon were oblivious to anything but each other. They stayed happily glued together through “Someone to Love” and a few more ballads until the piano player called out, "Okay boys," and bumped up the tempo for "All Right, Okay, You Win, I’m in Love With You." Both chuckled as they made their way back to the table.
Rollin moved his chair closer to hers so they could hear each other talk. “Maybe this is our song,” he said teasingly.
Cinnamon smiled, reaching for his cheek and pulling him closer for a kiss. “We’re going to have to go back you know.”
He nodded, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You were right – it won’t be the same.” Cinnamon smiled sadly. He tried to cheer her up. “Nothing will be the same. We have our own song now. Two, actually.”
She smiled, appreciating his efforts. “I can’t imagine not being with you.”
“You won’t be.”
“Policy is very clear here –“
“This is not about rules – it’s about you and me.” Rollin answered determinedly.
“I don’t want to quit and I know you won’t quit. I can’t imagine not being with you, especially if you – or I - were in danger. But is it really fair? We’re bound to put each other first -”
“I’ve been doing that for more than a year. No one’s suffered as a result.” His candor stopped her cold. He continued, “Cin, we work really well together. We don’t need to change that. It’s the way I fell in love with you. I don’t want to change anything – “ The music swelled and Rollin realized this was a conversation best held in another venue. He reached for her thigh, squeezing it gently. “Cinnamon, it’s all so new, but we’ll figure it out. I know we will.”
She wanted to believe him and was heartened by his determination. She placed her hand over his. He could see she was not convinced, but knew there was nothing more he could say at the moment. “Let’s go back. Don’t you have some new lingerie to show me?”
She rose with him, shaking her head. Only one thing was certain: Nothing would be the same.
The taxi ride was fast given the late hour and deserted streets. They walked into the lobby hand in hand. Out of habit, Cinnamon surveyed the lobby bar and its denizens. Her eyes met those of a tall blond man, looking uncomfortable in a suit, leaning against the bar. He was staring at her. She didn’t realize he was trying to place the startlingly attractive blonde – something about her face and carriage was familiar, but the hair was wrong. Cinnamon was aware of his intent gaze and pulled up short. Rollin stopped, “What is it, Darling?”
As Rollin looked up he met the blond man’s eyes and immediately recognized Colonel Andreyev. Andreyev’s reaction made it clear that everything had suddenly snapped into place for him.
Vronsky! The colonel clearly realized something was up and reached into his jacket for a not very well-concealed revolver.
Rollin quickly steered Cinnamon into the waiting elevator and in a split second had pressed the close door button. He punched in number 8, lower than their actual floor, but high enough so that Andreyev could not beat them up the stairs.
“Arabs?” he asked Cinnamon.
She nodded yes “Uh huh, Sheikh Yameen was there. I didn’t recognize the other one in a robe. The rest looked like bodyguards. Arms sales?”
The lift reached the eighth floor and they exited quickly, running for the stairs hand in hand. They quickly climbed two flights and were in their suite in no time.
Rollin double locked the door and turned to face Cinnamon, “Andreyev was never coming for the air show, but to buy planes or weapons or something.”
Cinnamon shook her head. “Buying or selling? He probably wanted to have Madame Kurnikova’s navigational system, maybe to barter.” Rollin nodded – she was onto something. She continued, “So that’s him – why does he think we’re here?”
“By now he knows you’re not Kurnikova.”
“And that the real Kurnikova defected.” Cinnamon added, “Will anyone downstairs talk?”
“They shouldn’t, but it would be worth some cash to him to find out. He’s
going to be as thrown as we were. He probably thinks he is being set up. For
all we know, he could think we followed him to
“And then ran through the lobby?” She was unconvinced. Rollin sighed, sharing her concern. She added, “We need to contact Jim or Barney.”
Rollin’s first impulse was to ensure that Cinnamon was safe. “Let’s go down the service stairs. We’ll get a taxi to take you to the embassy. You can call Jim and you’ll be in a safe place.”
Cinnamon thought she would scream. “What do you mean put me in a taxi? We can call Jim from here. And where do you expect to be while I’m running for cover?”
“Cinnamon, we don’t have time –“
She reached for his hands and held them, “Is this our first fight?” She got his attention. “Didn’t you just tell me we’re a team? That you didn’t want to change anything?”
He hung his head, “Okay. You win.”
“I don’t want to win,” she reached for his chin. He met her eyes. “I just want to do this together,” she added softly.
He pulled her into his arms. “You know I’m just trying to do what’s right – for both of us.”
“I know.” She enjoyed his embrace. “Rollin, our best defense is offense. We need to convince Andreyev that we are after him. It’s the best way to be safe ourselves.”
“Call Jim - I’ll go back down there and tell him I want to buy the guidance system.”
“Let’s call Jim together and then we’ll both go.” He knew her well enough to know it wasn’t worth fighting her. They made the call. As there was little information to share, they quickly updated Jim on Andreyev’s appearance and advised him of their plan with a promise to check in within the hour. Rollin opened the room safe and put the gun they had smuggled from Gbrest into his waistband under his jacket. They returned to the bar, cautiously.
The Arabs were gone. Andreyev was on his own, engaging the bartender, possibly for information about his quarry – or was it his pursuers. He looked up as Rollin led Cinnamon toward a secluded table in a quiet corner. Rollin approached the bar, mentally preparing to speak English with a Russian accent. “A bottle of champagne, please. A nice vintage.”
“So Vronsky, we meet again.”
“Yes, we do Colonel. And under much more civilized circumstances.” Rollin turned to the barman, “Three glasses, please. I assume you will join us Andreyev?”
“I would be delighted.”
Rollin picked up the ice bucket and glasses. Andreyev followed him warily back to the table. He gave Cinnamon a short bow of his head and spoke in formal Russian. “May I complement you, Madame. You are even more stunning as a blonde.”
“Thank you, Colonel Andreyev.” She responded.
The men took seats either side of her. Rollin popped the cork and poured into each of the glasses. “Andreyev, this is my wife, Anna. It’s too bad we were not able to speak more freely in Gbrest.”
“Yes, though I think we have something in common from our shared experience. Neither of us was able to leave with the thing we came for.”
Rollin chuckled as he lit a cigarette, first for Cinnamon, then a second for himself, finally passing the pack and lighter toward Andreyev, who did not react. “This is true. But now we are in a much better position to review … all the possibilities.”
“Possibilities?” Andreyev asked quizzically.
Cinnamon took a long drag and directed the smoke toward the ceiling. “You see, Colonel, my husband has the possibility of making you a very rich man.” She caressed Rollin’s arm, “More champagne please, Darling.” Rollin refilled her glass.
Andreyev turned toward Rollin, “Vronsky?”
Rollin sipped his champagne and smiled, “I know you don’t have it, Andreyev. But when you do, I will buy it.” He leaned closer to the colonel. “I represent a party interested in insuring it does not go to the Arabs … or to the Americans. We’re here in the hotel under an assumed name, hoping to see you.”
“What makes you think I am interested in selling it?” Andreyev asked, unconvincingly.
Cinnamon sighed, “Andreyev, let’s not waste each other’s time.” She downed her champagne.
“My beautiful wife grows impatient,” Rollin said reaching for her hand with one of his and re-filling her glass with the other. “When will you have it, Andreyev?”
Andreyev puffed his chest out, “So you have not heard –“
“That the Americans were able to turn Kurnikova? Of course, we know.” Rollin said wearily.
Cinnamon crushed her cigarette in the ashtray. “Really Andreyev. You must keep up. We know everything.”
“Including that she defected before you got the plans. But I’m sure her laboratory has not also defected?” Rollin asked snidely.
“What is it you want?” Andreyev asked coldly.
“Not just want – will buy. Anything in her laboratory, especially any plans.” Rollin’s response was equally cold.
“How will I contact you?” Andreyev asked.
“You won’t,” Rollin replied. “We will contact you. How soon will you have the materials?”
“Give me a week.”
“So much time, Andreyev, really.” Cinnamon turned to Rollin, stroking his chest, “Darling, perhaps we should simply return to the capital…”
Rollin leaned toward her and kissed her lips. Then he faced Andreyev. “Anna is very persuasive, Colonel Andreyev. What shall it be?”
Andreyev’s eyes shifted from one to the other. He thought it was amazing Vronsky had kept her sober enough for her to masquerade as Kurnikova. Yes, it would be better to re-engage on his home turf.
Andreyev indicated the champagne bottle. “Madame Vronsky, don’t allow Monsieur Pol Roger to influence your thinking. I am the only person who can get you what you want. I need a few days. That is all.” Andreyev turned to face Rollin, “I want a million US dollars, deposited to a Swiss bank account. I will give you the details.”
“I will be pleased to transfer that amount to you – provided the information is of equivalent value.”
“Contact me in the capital, in three days time.”
Rollin nodded. “Very well, Colonel. Three day’s time.”
Andreyev rose and nodded to Cinnamon, then moved to the elevator. Both Rollin and Cinnamon watched as the lift rose to the sixth floor, then returned to the lobby. Cinnamon straightened and Rollin quickly leaned across the table to embrace her, pulling her against him, and happily returning to English. “Not so fast. Guy by the front door. Can’t have Madame Vronsky sobering up too quickly.”
Cinnamon laughed uproariously, tipping her head back and using it as a chance to spot the lugubrious man by the door, sporting yet another ill fitting suit. “Darling?” She asked loudly.
“Yes, Sweetheart?” Rollin answered dutifully, pouring more champagne and pulling her against him again.
She whispered into his ear, “That went well. I’m sure he’ll copy anything he sells us, but now we have a chance at discrediting it before we close the deal.” She kissed his cheek softly before continuing, “You realize that no matter how we look at it, we’re going back to Gbrest?”
He laughed and proclaimed loudly, “I do.” He added softly so only she could hear, “We could look in on Anton and the family, maybe join Gregor for a drink. I’m sure he knows some cold, tiny place we could meet.”
Now it was Cinnamon’s turn to laugh. She ran her hand across his chest and met his lips as he leaned toward her. He continued, increasing his volume, “There’s something else Darling…”
“Tell me, Husband.” She answered for the benefit of the henchman.
He nuzzled against her neck so he could whisper into her ear. “Hmm, I could get used to that. Something else is … you were right – we make a great team.” He kissed her lovingly.
Cinnamon kissed him back, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the henchman had entered the elevator. She nudged Rollin and they both saw the elevator rise and stop at six again.
Rollin turned to her, finally able to speak freely. “There’s even something
else…” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. “We just bought
three more days in
She stopped for a breath and added glibly, “Yes, with Jim, Willy and Barney arriving tomorrow morning.”
“So we have tonight. And there’s no going back.” He reminded her.
She nodded, “Maybe we can try to figure out some of the not going back.”
He rose and reached for her hand, drawing him to her, “Hmm, maybe. But I heard something before about a lingerie fashion show. I understood Cinnamon Carter was the lead model.”
“Well,” she answered, walking with him into the waiting elevator, “All I have to say, Rollin Hand, is…you heard right.”
She pushed the button for the tenth floor as quickly as he pushed the close door button, pulling her into his arms.
--fin—