Petersburg to Moscow is about the length of a flight from Boston to Washington, D.C. It gave Alexei Samnov’s imagination time to fabricate a dozen different reasons for his being summoned to a meeting with the gentleman. None of them offered peace of mind. When he reached the terminal in Moscow, he followed instructions to look for a limousine driver holding a sign bearing the single name, Alexei. He made contact immediately, and was ushered into a black stretch limousine that was driven beyond the city limits of Moscow and deeply into the open country to the north of the city. The sun had been down for hours by the time the limousine pulled into the courtyard of a walled stone villa overlooking Lake Rybinsk. Alexei was greeted as “Professor Samnov” by the attendant staff and shown to a guest suite where he was invited to refresh himself before dinner. Within half an hour, he returned to the main hall and was shown to the main dining room. He had no idea of whether to take comfort or alarm from the fact that the massive table was set for two.
