Lukin fumbled with frozen fingers, aimedat the animal nearest him and squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The gun was empty.

Frantically, he grabbed the holster.There was a slim pocket in the leather for a spare magazine and he wrenched itand found the magazine, and with fingers shaking desperately tried to load thepistol again with his one hand.

The wolves were less than two metersaway- He could smell them. They bared their fangs again, growling as theycrouch ready to pounce.

Lukin cocked the pistol and fired in theair.

The explosion echoed around the forest.The wolves yelp He fired another shot, then another.

The animals bolted back into the forest.

He wiped cold sweat from his face. Thewolves would stay away for long. They had been threatened, were obviouslyhungry , and it was only a matter of time before they resisted coming out againfor food.

He staggered to his feet, ignoring thewaves of pain burning through his arm. He looked toward the highway. Flashes ofheadlights flickered through the trees as a convoy of vehicles trundled past.

The road was his only hope.

He stumbled through the forest, his legsweak, his lungs on fire with the effort. It took him over ten minutes to coverfifty meters to the edge of the highway.

It was deserted, only tire marks slashingthe white surface Lukin swore, breathless.

Suddenly a pair of headlights appeared upahead as a truck came around a bend and loomed at him out of the falling sno.Lukin stumbled into the middle of the road and waved his gun.

Leningrad.

it was after four and already darkoutside as Vladimir came in with a wrapped parcel. In the kitchen he handed itto Anna. It's for the journey. It's not much, only bread and cheese and somevodka, but it should fill your bellies for a while and help keep out thechill."

"Thank you." Anna took theparcel as Stanski came back from the window.

Vladimir gave him a rolled-up leatherpouch, a pair of thick woollen gloves, an ancient helmet, and a tattered blackovercoat that smelled as if a dog had recently slept on it.

"The coat ought to keep you warm onthe bike if you can stand the stink, but it's all I've got that's heavy enoughto keep out the chill. There are some tools in the pouch for any minor repairs.But try not to get a flat, because you'll have no spare tire."

:"Is there enough fuel in thetank?"

"It's full." Vladimir handedStanski some official coupons. "if you have to refill you'll need those.But finding a fuel station isn't so easy after dark, and especially on remotecountry roads you won't have a hope. There's enough fuel in the tank for overfour hundred kilometers if you don't drive like hell, and I've left a fullcontainer in one of the saddle pouches that should give you a further twohundred. it'll just about get you all the way. But there's only one helmet andpair of goggles , I'm afraid, best worn by the driver, otherwise that icy coldout there will cut your eyes out when you get up to speed."

Stanski checked his papers and Anna's,then looked restlessly at his watch and said to Vladimir, "How much longerbefore we can go?"

Vladimir looked out at the darkness belowand scratched his stubble.

"Another hour ought to do it. Bythen the traffic should have thickened." He spread the map on the tableagain. "Meanwhile, let's go over the route one more time. The last thingyou want is to get lost."

"You want what?"

Lukin looked at the red-faced colonelacross the desk and said, "Every available man you have put at mydisposal. All railway, bus and Metro stations and the airport patrolled andevery passenger checked. Every hotel register in the city scrutinized and theidentity of guests verified. That's just to start with. There'll be more, Iassure you."

"You're out of your tiny fuckingmind, comrade."

"Perhaps I ought to telephone theMinistry of State Security and you can tell that to Beria personally?"

The colonel's face turned an even angrierred, then suddenly paled.

"I'm sure that won't benecessary."

"I'm sure it won't," Lukinanswered. "You've seen my authorization. Please be so good as to complywith the order."

He replaced the letter in his breastpocket as the colonel stood up and sighed in frustration. He looked as if hewanted to hit Lukin for his impertinence.

He was a big, stocky man, with croppedred hair the color of rust. They were in his large office on the sixth floor ofthe red-brick building on Liteiny Prospect which housed the KGB Headquarters inLeningrad. Lights blazed in the city beyond die broad panoramic window,flurries of snow brushing against the glass.

There were photographs on the walls, oneof a smiling Beria. Others, more personal, taken in Berlin, Warsaw, Vienna.Groups of soldiers smiling in the after-ruins of battles. Lukin recognized the colonelin all of them, hands on hips, his chin and chest stuck out self-importantly.

Next to the colonel's desk stood hisadjutant, a young captain in uniform.

The adjutant looked across at Lukin.

"You're asking a lot of us,Major," he remarked. "We've already alerted militia patrols about thecar. Have you any appreciation of the scale of such an operation as you'redemanding?"

"Just as I'm quite certain ComradeBeria would demand your lives if you failed to give every assistance."Lukin stood and stared at the men. "And I'm sure you'd much rather dealwith me than him." He looked pointedly at his watch. "So, can I counton your help?"

The adjutant shot a nervous glance at hiscolonel, who stood up, nodded at Lukin and gave a heavy sigh, "Very well,Major," he said reluctantly. "Let me explain the situation and we'lltake it from there."

The colonel crossed to a map on the wallnear the window and Lukin followed. His arm hurt, the stump throbbing. He stillreeked of fuel and smoke. A shower or bath would have been welcome. Down in thestreet he saw an elderly woman wearing several thick skirts, sturdy boots and aheadscarf sweeping snow away from the front of the building. The broad frozenNeva River lay beyond the rooftops of the city that had once been the Tsar'scapital. The battleship Aurora, whose cannonshot had signaled the storming ofthe Winter Palace and the start of the Revolution, lay anchored in the ice, themagnificent island fortress of Peter and Paul behind it, illuminated in a blazeof arc lights.

Lukin turned back as the colonel pickedup a slim wooden baton and tapped it on the colored map of Leningrad, red flagspinpointing military installations and barracks.

"You're familiar with Leningrad,Major?"

"Unfortunately not."

"We're talking about a city ofalmost two million inhabitants. There are ten railway stations. One civilianand three military airfields. A public transport system that includes trams,buses and a Metro. Perhaps eighty transport stations in all. Major highwayshere ..." The colonel pointed to several blue veins leading from the heartof the city. here, and here."

He gave a thin, flickering smile."And this one is the Baltic highway where you stopped the army truck afteryour unfortunate crash. We have a patrol on the way there now to recover thepilot's body and search for the missing colonel."

Lukin ignored the jibe. "What abouthotels?"

The colonel shrugged. "Maybe forty,large and small, in the city. More on the outskirts. I can have my men do acheck on new arrivals in the last six hours over the phone. That's the easypart. The difficult bit comes when we go to seal off the minor roads. There arehundreds leading in and out of the city. Have you any idea of the kind oftraffic volume we're talking about? Over a quarter of a million people intransit at any one time, and much more during the peak rush-hour periods. Youtry to cover everything, you're going to stretch resources."