“The countryside was one of low hills, but as the road fell into line alongside a lengthy stretch of water, more like a Scottish loch than a normal lake, a vista opened up to the west of open fields. The sky seemed showy, a projection rather than a reality: large irregular flint-coloured clouds against a shining grey expanse. The clouds looked as if painted upon a vast transparency that was being slid slowly from left to right along the backrail of the horizon. We were driving to Chernobyl, Salt...ykov and I. Dora Norman was settled into a pleasant room in a downtown Kiev hotel room. Saltykov’s taxi was not quite the same after its collision with the deer as it had been before. It creaked and rolled awkwardly when taking corners; never a rapid machine, it appeared to have less capacity for velocity now. But it was still working. ‘The question,’ I said, ‘is what we do when we get there.’ ‘There is a conspiracy to blow the facility up. We must find the bomb. Where exactly in the facility the bomb will be - that is the real question.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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