Holger exited the Aeroflot plane and was yet again impressed by the ultra-modern Sheremetyevo Airport, unimaginable in Russia ten years ago. The impressive building was testament to how capitalism had quickly led to infrastructure on a par with Western design. For once, his suitcase appeared promptly on the conveyor, and he beelined for customs and passport control. Although Holger had not brought anything that could reveal his true objectives, he felt his heart race ferociously as the elderly woman in the glass booth examined his passport carefully. As if it was a classified document, every page was scrutinised – her tiny piercing eyes scanning his face, searching for inconsistencies between the man in the photo and the one standing in front of her. Decades of suspicion and scepticism were deep-rooted and not swayed by new winds of democracy and the introduction of freedom of travel.
Finally, she returned his passport and waved him on with a surly expression as a customs inspector caught his eye and signalled for him to open his suitcase. The official displayed unbridled disappointment when his quick, adept search revealed nothing but clothing items. As if prompted by a sudden impulse, the inspector pointed to Holger’s carry-on bag and gestured for him to empty 288its contents onto the table. The customs officer’s eyes lit up at the sight of two mobile phones, an NMT and a GSM model, an earpiece with a microphone, a collection of maps, and a tape recorder.
‘Has paperwork been filled out for these?’ he asked cunningly, studying Holger’s facial expressions intently.
Holger had been prepared for this and knew no special customs declarations were needed. As Holger’s glance calmly locked the eye of the customs inspector, he could also see that he knew this. Instead of making the facts known, Holger rummaged through his pockets as he answered with a disarming smile:
‘It’s for my work. I’m a lawyer and am meeting several Russian businesses that want to export their goods to Denmark. As mobile phone coverage in Russia isn’t fully rolled out yet, I’ll likely have to alternate between NMT and GSM, depending on coverage. Don’t you think?’
Holger discreetly slid a folded twenty dollar bill across the counter. The agent nodded, placed his hand on the dollar note and nodded smilingly. Holger quickly tossed the items back into his bag and headed for the exit with a calm stride. He had to force himself not to walk too energetically. The relief of having made it through customs made him shiver slightly, and only once outside did he take a long, deep breath and flagged down a cab. The cold evening air was almost liberating.
‘Hotel Ukraine,’ he told the driver and crawled into the back seat of the decrepit Zhigulu-VAZ.
He let himself sink into the cab’s large seats and closed his eyes. Not long after, he was fast asleep and was woken up by the car screeching to a halt in front of the hotel on Red Square. Holger dug out a thousand-rouble note for the driver and glanced around. 289The square looked large in televised broadcasts of the annual military parades, but it was, in fact, relatively small. Even though the driver would undoubtedly have been happy with the standard cab fare to the city centre, as signposted at the airport; his excessive smiling showed that tips were not usual. Holger followed the cab with his eyes as it left the square and he headed for the entrance of the Stalinist palace that was now the Hotel Ukraine.
Holger mechanically scanned the ostentatious hotel lobby and saw Tatjana straight away. She was sitting on a large, lavishly upholstered sofa next to the lift. The sight of her invigorated him more than he liked to admit. And he was clearly not the only one harbouring that feeling as she quickly rose to her feet and walked towards him with a warm smile. He held her at arm’s-length and gave her an approving look. She was dressed in an elegant jumpsuit inspired by Russian uniforms and high-heeled Louboutin shoes.
‘Lovely to see you again. You haven’t put on weight at all,’ Tatjana said, turning coquettishly under his gaze.
‘And you look better than ever. How are things at the university?’ Holger said with thinly veiled enthusiasm.
‘Fine. I teach a few classes every week – English only. That’s all the students seem to want to learn anymore. Without English, no fast money. The days when becoming an engineer, a scientist or – worst of all – a lawyer made sense are long gone. But I have to move on with life. Find the man of my dreams and all that. Working with the Documentation Group takes more and more of my time. I don’t really have time to teach anymore. But I’ll tell you all about it later,’ she laughed and gave his hand a squeeze.
Holger withdrew his hand and felt himself blush. ‘We have much to discuss tonight. I’ll check in, drop my stuff in the room, 290and then we can eat something. I’m starving. Aeroflot isn’t exactly known for its culinary skills, as you know.’
‘Then it’s good that I’ve booked a table near here,’ answered Tatjana with a smile that almost made Holger forget why he had come to Russia.