Page 55 of Gryphon

Valentina should have if it was there to find. It was the purpose of her job, to know what Russia would do next in advance of their actually doing it. “Uh…nope.” Still sounding as dumb as a toadstool.

That reminded her how last night had started. Davey was a brilliant analyst. Discussion had led to drinks. Many drinks. Which had led to stupid, and not very skilled on his part, sex. She wasn’t so out of practice that she couldn’t judge that. His fearsomely youthful energy only compensated for so much, which last night had been more than enough for her. A rematch? Not without another serious round of alcohol she had no interest in repeating.

While still at the social, chatting-after-work drinks stage, he’d told her about the amazing communication systems they were discovering between plants—particularly fungal mycelium. The level of communication carried out underground included reproduction timing, water resource reporting, and even warnings of direct attack. He’d recently read an article that showed they basically screamed when cut down and other plants in the network responded by altering nutrient flows and caching energy—their sole defenses against the depredations of humankind.

Which meant that in taking Davey home, she’d been literally dumber than a toadstool.

“Okay, second question. Who wants to convince Sweden that Russia had attacked them?”

“Why would they… Oh. Punishment for joining NATO.” Her brain finally came back online. She began pacing her office, as she often did during phone calls. The plush carpet felt good against her bare feet.

Bare feet.

Bare person.

She retreated to the shadows again and turned her back to avoid seeing if she’d attracted a leering lineup of construction workers.

“So, who might frame Russia? They’d do that because…” she often started questions to see how easily her subconscious filled them in.

“Article 5,” she and Holly said in unison.

Val continued alone, “An attack on one is an attack on all. Do you seriously think someone is trying to provoke a war between NATO and Russia? Never mind.” The question answered itself. Holly wouldn’t have called her if she’d thought otherwise.

And someone trying to frame Russia almost made sense. But could she prove it?

“I’ll need some time on this.”

“Okay, I’ll hold.”

“Not so much with the time, I guess.”

“Not so much,” Holly agreed.

“Okay, let’s start with the unlikely. I’ve seen no indications that the US particularly cares about Russia at the moment. We’re too worried about China and Taiwan. And we’d much rather that Russia, NATO, and the EU take care of themselves wrangling over Ukraine for a while, which is why we’re tossing enough arms their way to keep it out of our hair for now.”

“And of all people, as a CIA director, you should have heard if it was the US sabotaging Sweden in Russia’s name. China then?”

Val considered, caught herself starting to pace, then went and sat on the carpet in the back corner of her office. She held up one finger for the US simply to distract her body’s unthinking tendencies from pacing. “They’d benefit from a war either way, but Russia would ask for aid if it became major. China’s knows this and knows that we’d land hard on their asses if they did that.”

“Scratch China,” Holly noted.

Val held up a second finger. Then ticked off three more, “Southeast Asia is too far away. India has too many of its own problems with Pakistan and China to care. The Middle East is a narcissistic trainwreck at the moment. Anyone makes a wrong move and the Saudis will cut off their oil or the Israelis will circumcise them with a launch of Shrike missiles.”

“Turkey.”

Out of fingers because her other hand held the phone, Val raised the big toe on her right foot. “They’re still benefitting from walking that thin line of appeasing both the US and Russia. In the last month or so they’re finally realizing that Russia is falling apart after seeing how they’re utterly failing at taking over Ukraine. After years of going the other way, Turkey is suddenly shifting to align more with the US. Though not a chance are they ready to cut ties with the East yet.”

“That probably leaves the little people. I can’t see the UK, France, or Germany doing something like this.”

Val counted three more toes, leaving her staring at the pinky toe on her right foot.

The one on her bare right foot attached to her bare right leg.

She checked, she was still sitting down. Still no sight lines from the construction site to here behind the big philodendron. That was okay then. She stuck one of her five extended fingers into the soil. She made a mental note to water it today, then looked around for something to wipe away the dirt on, finally using the spine of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment in the original Russian. Rodion Raskolnikov was no smarter in Russian than he’d been in English.

Her foot was cramping from the effort to keep her toes spread.

Her little toe, low and to the right of all the bigger toes that— “No way.”

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