16 I do my best to avoid looking suspicious, in case Sergey is watching me from the car. I pat my pockets, take out the car keys, and confidently walk back. The image I’m trying to project is: silly me, I forgot something in the car. I might not win an Oscar for my acting, but hopefully the performance will be enough to keep us off the Russians’ radar. As soon as I’m in the car, the first thing I do is fish out the pen I used to sign the receipt for this car rental and the receipt itself. On the back, I write the address and phone number I kept in my head. Then I start the car. I’ve never been this antsy. I stare at the car’s digital clock, but it seems to have stopped. It feels like half an hour has passed when a single digit on the clock advances one minute. The plan initially seeme

