Avarice

DECEMBER 10, 1963

 

Gulliver pinched the tiny red straw in his scotch glass. He spun his drink mindlessly. “And so I told them I won’t be returning for at least a few more months.” Gulliver said and like he was adding on to a previous statement, but the words came from nowhere.

Sergei looked around the dive bar they were sitting in, seeming to search for the party Gulliver was talking to. He smiled when he returned his gaze to Gulliver.

“Who? Your family?” he asked.

“Afraid so.”

“How’d that go?” Sergei asked, pressing his fingertips lightly against his glass.

“They’re getting tired. The work is slow in Nottingham. They say they miss me a lot.” Gulliver took another sip of his scotch, hoping to drink himself blind enough not to see the truth when others lie. As the days passed, Gulliver was growing more and more discouraged by people and their inability to be honest. Sergei was a beacon of truth amongst the thieves and the liars.

“Did you tell them why?” he asked.

“Dear Mum, dear Father, I, your only son, Roderick, have been granted sentient abilities, which enable me to see your every lie and half-truth. Therefore, I will not be returning home in fear that it will entirely tarnish the sacred image I have of you two. As it has tarnished the image of literally everyone I have talked to in the last month. Except Sergei. P.S. I’m a queer double agent. Toodles, cheerio, miss you dearly, RW,” Roderick knew Sergei would likely worry at the usage of their real names, but they were out. It was the middle of the night. So what if they got to be Roderick and Sergei for the evening?

The bartender shot the two of them a funny look. Sergei then gestured back to the tender, signaling that perhaps his friend had had a bit too much to drink and was now acting ridiculous. Sergei took Roderick’s glass and the bartender went back to the jane he was serving.

“Goddammit, I wanted another scotch,” Roderick hissed. “I’ve had all of half a glass.”

“We’ll get out of here soon,” Sergei assured him.

“Inviting me back to your place? That’s so rash. We hardly know each other.” Roderick winked.

“That did not stop you from writing to your pretend parents about me.”

“Believe me, I’d sing your name from the heavens if I could.” Roderick lightly punched Sergei’s arm before slamming back the rest of his drink. “I’m satisfied. Let’s go.”

“I am still finishing my drink.” Sergei rolled his eyes and shotgunned the half-full White Russian on the bar lip, threw a few bills down, and then headed out into the cool Virginia night. They hurried into the Karmann Ghia parked in the far back of the lot. Its plates were intentionally not lit. Sergei climbed in the driver’s side and Roderick in the passenger’s side.

“Could you grab a pass?” Sergei gestured to the glove compartment.

“Of course, this hotel seems especially excited to tow u—” Roderick’s voice was cut off by a loud snap.

Sergei had one hand pressed to the steering wheel, ready to drive off. In the other hand, he gripped the top half of the newly snapped-in-two stick shift.

“Ooooooooh, god. Nikola will have your head.”

Sergei widened his eyes. Seemingly frozen until he decided to rip the topper off the broken portion of the stick shift and shove it onto the still-attached portion of the stick shift, his strength making the task easy.

“I love you, but I think she’ll be able to deduce what happened, even with your clever cover.”

“Never. My execution? Flawless.” Sergei snorted, then revved the engine and peeled out of the bar’s parking lot.

They were right about the hotel’s parking policy. Upon arriving, there was a compact sedan being towed away.

“So you’re going to let me have whatever I want from the minibar, right? Since you denied me that last scotch?”

“Sure.” Sergei shrugged and stepped out of the car.

Roderick hurried about behind him. “That was a joke. Do you know how expensive hotel-room booze is?”

“Imagine if we skipped out on the bill.” Sergei paused for a moment and leaned in closer to Roderick. “Imagine if we”—he lowered his voice to a near whisper—“broke the law.”

“Oh, my god, Sergei!” Roderick snorted and slapped Sergei’s arm.

“Please, yell my blatantly Russian name louder. I don’t think we’re suspicious enough yet.” Sergei snickered. “Should I yell that we’re about to go back to our hotel room and undress? Queer and communist, the kind bumpkins of the Carolina backcountry will be grateful for our contributions to society.”

“Oh, my god.” Roderick felt his face heating up. His eyes were starting to well from holding back a laugh. “Stop.” He tried to control his face and act serious, but it was not happening. “Come on.” He pushed in on the hotel’s doors and entered the lobby. The front desk was empty, and the only noise was an ice machine running on loop.

“I bet there’s booze behind the desk.” Sergei didn’t wait for Roderick to even reply to his musing. He just slid over to the top of the counter and landed on the other side. He crouched down and brought up with him two half-full bottles of bourbon. “I was right.”

Roderick cackled again, his laugh as bubbly as his stomach. “Oh, my god, you don’t even like that stuff. Put it back. We’ll drink from the tiny bottles in the minibar.”

Sergei put the bottles back and slid over the counter again. They walked through the dimly lit halls like fiends, often laughing too loud and certain they were up to no good.

“This is us.” Roderick stopped at room 23 and slid the key into the lock with no problem, but upon turning it, there was no satisfying click. The key wouldn’t move. He turned and looked at Sergei. “Bloody thing won’t budge.”

Sergei scooted closer to Roderick, took hold of the key himself, and turned it. The key bent and snapped in two as opposed to turning.

“You are on fire tonight.” Roderick elbowed Sergei’s stomach before trying to turn the knob again. It didn’t move.

“Here.” Sergei shooed Roderick away from the door. Once he had a grip on the door handle, he tried turning it with no success. “We’re going to have to break in, but do not worry, we can fix the door once inside.”

Sergei shoved toward the door at the same time Nikola opened it. They collided and went tumbling to the ground.

“What the hell, guys!” Nikola hissed, his body crushing her.

Roderick looked as though he’d just witnessed sacrilege. His entire face lit with red. “Oh, my god, Nikola. We’re so sorry.”

“Don’t just lay on me.” She tried pushing Sergei off her to no success. He lay there limp. “Kal!”

He laughed as he pressed off the ground and stood, then offered his hand to Nikola.

“I don’t need your charity.” She batted his hand away. It became clear that she was in no joking mood.

“What-what were you doing in our—Gulliver’s room?” Being partially buzzed kept Sergei pleasantly light.

Nikola’s gaze shifted from Sergei to Roderick and then back to Sergei. “Gulliver is room 24. You are room 22. I am in room 23.” She was showing him the door when she spotted the broken key sticking out of the lock. “And you have graciously broken my doorknob.”

“Oh no, your doorknob. God forbid someone try to break in. You’re defenseless with your superhuman agility and unlawful firearms.” Sergei shot back. “Do you have any booze?”

“None for you.” She ushered him out of her room. “Get out. I’ve got better things to do than babysit your drunk ass.”

Her door closed with a sharp click and Roderick and Sergei were once again out in the hall.

“Seeing as how I no longer have a key to my room…it looks like I’ll have to stay in yours.” Roderick leaned carefully against one of the hall’s beige walls.

Sergei’s room was a mess, unlike Roderick’s which was always kept in the cleanest of order. Sergei had clothes scattered all over the floor and half-full cups of coffee on every end table. It drove Roderick eight different kinds of crazy, but he loved Sergei enough for it not to matter.

Sergei headed straight for the minibar under the giant dresser covered in newspapers and mission notes. “Here, let’s see if there’s scotch.” He rummaged around. “Ah, no luck. Looks like you’re just going to have to drink tea like the limey crumpetfucker that you are.” When Sergei spoke, he was doing his best, poorly executed English accent on top of his already thick Russian accent. So, more than anything, he just sounded like he was having a stroke. Roderick was quick to approach the fridge and snag a mini-bottle of scotch.

“Look there’s vodka for your Lenin-loving arse.” From the time Roderick popped open the bottle’s cap to the moment Sergei kissed him, only fifty seconds had passed. Their bodies intertwined, and Roderick found himself desperate to set the alcohol down on any available table space and quick to kick his shoes off. Sergei slid his hands from around Roderick’s neck down to his hips. They stumbled their way over to the unmade bed in the corner of the room. Sergei pulled Roderick’s sweater over his head and then peeled his own shirt off. Even though Sergei was cold, Roderick could still hear his heart beating in his chest. They kissed hungrily, Roderick enveloping Sergei in his arms. They had just hit the bed when the phone rang. Roderick let out a long, loud sigh.

“Ignore it,” Sergei urged.

“We can’t. What if it’s the commander?” Roderick groaned, flopping his head back onto a pillow as though nothing worse could have possibly happened.

 

FOR A COUPLE rings, they waited to see if the phone would stop on its own, but the rings kept on. Sergei picked up.

“Hello?” he said.

“No.” It was the cold and curt voice of Nikola. “No. You two do not get to wake my ass up in the middle of the night and then go next door and have loud sex. That is not how this works.”

A laugh started in Sergei’s stomach and came out as a deep, cool chuckle. Even though Nikola would pretend not to know about the two of them for Roderick’s sake, she had no issue bringing things up with Sergei.

“No, don’t laugh at it. Shut the hell up and screw quieter,” she huffed. “Besides, you two shouldn’t be fooling around right now, anyway. We need to be ready for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Sergei turned to look at Roderick for answers, but he shrugged just as unknowing as Sergei.

“Pffft, shit.” Nikola laughed loud enough that they could hear her through their own wall. “Well, I’m glad you guys picked up the phone for at least someone. No wonder the chick was freaking out when she finally got ahold of me.”

“What chick?” Sergei started piecing information together in his head, but he stayed calm for Roderick’s sake.

“Caulfield, the new navigator. She found them. We go in on the twelfth.” Nikola spoke as though she was only dedicating half of her attention to the conversation. Sergei guessed she was likely reading—in fact more than likely, rereading mission plans. They were finally going in on the agents they’d turned in just months ago.

“Oh, okay.” Sergei nodded even though Nikola could not see him. “Well, thank you for telling us.” He hung up, carefully planning how he would break the news to Roderick, but Roderick was already growing paler.

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Roderick timidly pulled his sweater back on. “They’ve found them.”

Sergei nodded and joined his partner on the bed, offering out the previously uncapped mini-bottle. “Here, drink this.”

Roderick drank it all in one quick gulp much to Sergei’s surprise.

“All right,” Sergei let out a wheeze. He took Roderick’s empty bottle and got back up, but this time, instead of heading to the mini-fridge, he went to the sink and filled a cup with water. “Now, drink this.”

Roderick sighed and took a sip. “Water already. You must think I’m about to cry.”

“I know this situation hasn’t been easy on you.” Sergei talked with a low voice, careful not to speak loud enough for Nikola to hear the two of them. “But if you truly want out, there is still time, but not much. All you have to do is put a call out to your commander back home. Nikola and I can escape before they get here. You can go back to Nottingham. It is not too late.”

Roderick sighed and flopped back on the bed, not bothering to finish his water. “I’m not going anywhere, Sergei. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I am more worried that you’re staying.” Sergei took Roderick’s hand as he sat beside him on the hotel bed. They held each other’s gaze steadily. “Something is wrong.”

“Everything is wrong.”

Sergei grimaced. “Now is no time for melodrama. Everything is wrong all the time. You get up and go on.”

Roderick lay there, focusing in on the hazy lighting. “You’re damn right.” A hint of a smile crossed Roderick’s face for a moment only to quickly vanish. “We’re in trouble.”

“You don’t have to be.” Sergei shook his head. “You should have never stayed this long in the first place. If I hadn’t been here, you would have been gone a long time ago.”

“Quiet down, or she’ll hear you,” Roderick huffed. “She hears everything now.” He began scratching at the collar of his sweater. “The fibers on this thing are like steel wool.”

Sergei was having none of his diversion. “Why aren’t you going?”

“This isn’t just about us, Sergei. I stayed for other reasons.”

“Like what?” Sergei lay back next to Roderick. “The glamorous living arrangements? The constant state of fear of being outed? The stern yet benevolent team captain?”

“It’s more than that.” Roderick shook his head, turning so he was face to face with Sergei.

“Roderick, there’s no need to lie. I will not be hurt if you go. I will hurt, but I will not be hurt. I’d rather die knowing you’re safe than have you follow us out onto that field this time around. These other agents aren’t going to be merciful.”

“Of course not. They want us dead, and they just might get it.”

“Then go, Roderick.” Sergei ran his thumb over the top of Roderick’s hand. “I love you, but I know that it’s your time.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Roderick smiled and any warmth left in him was gone. There was something hollow about that grin, something secretly eating him away, and even though he could try and fool Sergei into not seeing that, it was clear; Sergei always knew.

“What is this?” Sergei asked. “You need to go.”

Roderick shook his head. His stomach turned. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?” Roderick stood, the bed creaking as he got up. “I’m not going anywhere because I love you.” He switched subjects. “Is there more scotch in the minibar?” Rather than wait for an answer. He bent down and pulled out another full bottle.

Sergei sat up and any playfulness, any curiosity, was gone. There was nothing but concern plaguing him. “You should be running. Why aren’t you running?”

Roderick considered the bottle in his hand. After a minute or two of silent staring, he unscrewed the top and sucked down three big gulps before Sergei cut him off, gently placing a hand on the bottle and pulling it away from Roderick’s lips.

“You are going to be a riot when that hits your gut.” Sergei was deadpan, but there was still an intense sense of concern in the way he grabbed Roderick’s hand and sat him back down on the bed. “Why aren’t you running, Roderick?”

The truth came like a bad aftertaste, all at once and not the least bit welcomed. “Because I defected from the UK four months ago.”

They sat there and let the minutes stretch on forever. The words were still sinking in, finally, and Sergei let out a long breath.

“Why would you do that?” There was a distress to him he didn’t often like to show. “Why?”

“Do you remember what they said to us when we first started this mission?” Roderick pulled his knees in on himself, curling tightly on the edge of the bed. “They said fame. They said fortune. They said super squad, the greatest spy team the world has ever seen. The goddess and the protégé working together again. It was going to be great, and we were going to be a part of it. Why would I miss out?”

It didn’t hit Sergei so much as wash over him. “So I had nothing to do with it?”

“Ha.” Roderick let out a long, exasperated breath. “I wish I could say I did it for love, but no, it had nothing to do with you. I did it all for me.”

Sergei let out a long breath, releasing an anxiety he’d been holding onto since the moment he and Roderick first kissed. “So, I’m not to blame?”

“No.” Roderick lay back on the bed and cuddled in next to Sergei, a frown on his face. “You were never going to be to blame for whatever ends up happening to me, for better or worse.”

“So…let’s say, at the end of this mission, you happen upon world domination. Do I still get mentioned in your address?”

“Sergei.” Roderick sat up, his body now guarded from Sergei’s arms. “This isn’t a joke. We’re going to die tomorrow.”

“Thursday. We don’t die till Thursday.”

“Stop,” Roderick croaked.

“Roderick.” Sergei sat up. “We’re going to be fine. Look at me.” Sergei took his partner’s hands and held them. “We are going to be fine. I will not let you die.” He paused. “Now, was that a lie?”

Roderick smiled weakly, but he did smile. “No.”

“It’s not a lie because it is true. I will not let you die, and neither will Nikola. You are there to make sure we are not bested on a mental field, and we are there to make sure we’re not bested on a physical field. We will all take care of each other. No one is dying.”

Roderick’s tears were already drying. “This unyielding optimism is unlike you, but comforting.”

Sergei smiled. “Only for you, Roderick. No one else can know.”

“Oh, of course.” He giggled and leaned forward for a kiss.