Chapter 45 – Galina Must Become One of Us
As for Katya—she was out of the question.
That thick Russian accent of hers would be political suicide at an event like this.
Behind closed doors, it didn't matter who you associated with. But in public? William was a proud British gentleman—at least on paper.
Showing up to a high-society function with a Russian woman on his arm, even a defector, would be disastrous. No one would bother clarifying her background. In politics, perception mattered more than facts.
The Cold War might have been winding down. America might have "won." The media might have been preaching democracy, freedom, and the shining beacon of civilization.
But beneath the slogans, this was still a Christian, Anglo-dominated white power structure.
Anyone naïve enough to believe the rhetoric would never enter its core circles.
William had no intention of making that kind of rookie mistake.
Unless Katya could magically acquire a flawless British or American accent overnight—which was practically impossible.
He rubbed his temples.
Incredibly, he had no suitable date.
Then his gaze drifted toward Galina, who had been standing quietly to the side.
If he remembered correctly, the so-called "Swallows" had been trained specifically to infiltrate Western circles through charm and seduction. Blending seamlessly into Western society should have been part of her core training.
"Galina."
She was dressed in a tailored women's suit today—low-profile but elegant. The fabric couldn't conceal her striking figure, nor her tall, commanding presence.
At roughly 170 centimeters, she would make a formidable companion at any formal event.
"Yes, boss?" she replied calmly.
"Come here. Turn around for me."
His tone was professional, so she didn't interpret it as impropriety. She stepped forward and turned slowly, allowing him a full assessment.
Even in conservative attire, her presence was undeniable.
In an evening gown? She would be breathtaking.
"Galina," he continued, "can you speak with a British accent?"
"Yes, boss."
Without hesitation, she switched to impeccable, refined British English—arguably more authentic than William's own. After all, he had grown up in America. His speech leaned American, though not distinctly West Coast.
"Excellent," William nodded. "You have a new assignment. You'll accompany me to a charity gala—as my date."
Galina did not immediately agree.
"As your date, my mobility would be restricted. I may not be able to protect you effectively."
Her concern was professional, not personal.
William waved it off. "Charity galas have their own security. Even if you attended as a bodyguard, it wouldn't necessarily improve my safety."
Since the boss had made his decision, Galina gave a short nod.
"Yes, sir."
"By the way," William added, "what's your full name?"
"Galina Ivanovna Kozlova."
Crisp. Direct.
William nodded thoughtfully, studying her again from head to toe.
Talents like this were rare.
And the thought formed naturally in his mind—
Galina had to become one of his own.
William wanted to entrust her with greater responsibility—but first, he had to solve the issue of trust.
The thought came to him instinctively: start with family.
"Galina," he asked casually, "do you have any family left?"
She shook her head.
"Boss, I'm an orphan. I was taken in by the KGB when I was very young. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have family."
Her tone was calm—almost detached. As if blood ties meant nothing to her.
But William caught it.
That faint flicker in her eyes.
A trace of longing.
For family.
No one is without desire. And where there is desire, there is leverage.
He leaned back in his chair and looked up at her.
"Answer me honestly. If I wanted your loyalty—what would it cost?"
Galina did not hesitate.
"Boss, I don't want to give anyone my loyalty. The last organization I gave loyalty to wanted my body in return. I don't intend to offer loyalty to anyone again."
Direct. Clear. No deception.
William nodded slightly.
"No, Galina. You misunderstand me. I'm not asking for the kind of absolute loyalty the KGB demanded."
He spoke plainly.
"I won't force you to do anything you're unwilling to do. What I need is trust. I need to be able to rely on you. Do you understand?"
In his vision of the future, those who stood beside him—and earned his trust—would gain immense power and wealth.
That was the confidence of a man who knew more than others.
And because of that, choosing the right people required extreme caution.
Galina hesitated. Refusing outright again would feel like disrespect.
"Boss… as long as you keep paying me, you can trust me."
William understood that pushing further today would only backfire.
But this was a start.
Galina had to become one of his own.
Otherwise, he could never truly place his life in her hands—especially once he began moving deeper into America's upper circles, where danger increased with influence.
"That's fair," William nodded, appearing satisfied. "Your salary won't be an issue."
With his near-perfect control over his facial expressions, even someone trained as a Swallow couldn't read whether he was sincere.
"In that case," Galina replied, "you can trust me, boss."
William stood.
There was something strangely fascinating about dealing with someone like her.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get you fitted for an evening gown. You can't attend as my date dressed like that."
He walked out first. Galina followed.
If one looked closely, there was the faintest curve at the corner of her lips.
…
(Special thanks to JuanEscobar)