Dulles and Branigan stood and both ofthem left the Oval Office.

As Massey sat there, Eisenhower lit acigarette with shaking hands, still angry, as he stood and walked over to theFrench windows. He opened them and stepped out onto a porch. There was a rushof cool air and the sound of pelting rain beyond the patio and Eisenhower saidover his shoulder, "Step out here, Jake.

Massey went out to the patio. Rain camedown in sheets beyond the porch, and as Eisenhower stared out he said,"Have you got family?"

"A son."

"What about your wife?"

"We're divorced."

Eisenhower looked back. "Would youconsider yourself a patriot, Jake?"

" Mr. President, I love my country.I wouldn't be doing this job if I didn't. But I can't go along with this. AlexStanski's a brave man, a man who's doing what no one else would dare do. As forAnna Khorev, she only agreed to go along to get her child back. But she's stilla courageous woman, nonetheless. And maybe we've used her. But we can't killher. It isn't moral and it isn't right."

Eisenhower sighed and flicked hiscigarette away. "I want to tell you a story I haven't told to anyone in along time. When I was a young officer I served in Panama. There was a boy Iknew from my home town served with me. A nice redhaired kid, a good pal to getdrunk with and always quick with a song. Had a sweetheart back home he wascrazy about.

"One night our company got sent intothe jungle where some guerrillas had artillery that was giving our battalionhell. Our objective was to silence those guns. Halfway through we got pinneddown in the darkness by machine-gun fire. The kid I knew went ahead to silenceone of the guns and took a hit in the belly. He crawled back through the jungletoward us with his guts hanging out, screaming his head off for someone to helphim. The trouble was, he was giving our position away.

"I was maybe the best rifle shot inthe company. My commander ordered me to shoot the kid. I couldn't bring myselfto do it, so I fired wide. Someone else tried and failed. Five minutes laterthe guerrillas stormed our position and killed ten of our men."

There was a look like remorse onEisenhower's face. "if I had had the guts to shoot that kid, maybe thosemen wouldn't have died. And there was worse. After we retreated the guns wenton firing and decimated our battalion. I let my commander and my fellow mendown. I let my country down."

He looked out grimly at the rain."This ain't no jungle in Panama with the lives of ten men in the balance,or even the lives of a battalion. This is a war we're talking about. Not twentylives or more at stake, but maybe twenty million. If I learned one thing thatnight in the jungle it's that you cut your losses when you have to and you takeyour pain. Hard decisions, sure, but we're talking about hard facts-two livesfor a whole lot of others. Including maybe your son's. Because, make nomistake, if we fail to stop this thing there will be a war. If Stanski and thewoman are caught alive, Moscow will have evidence and reason enough to startone. A war America's not ready for. A war we can't win. They're six monthsahead of us with the hydrogen bomb and Stalin's just itching to use it if hehas an excuse to. And with that kind of power he can blow us off the face ofthe earth."

Massey studied the President's face.There was a hard, determined look in the man's blue eyes and a grimness aroundhis mouth he had never seen before in any of his photographs.

Eisenhower stared back. "Thequestion I asked you was can the plan Dulles suggested work? I'd like youranswer to that."

Massey sighed. "Maybe. But it's onlyan outside chance. Stanski's no fool and he's the best man we ever trained.Killing him won't be easy."

"Then even if there's just a slimchance we've got to take it. There's only one man I can think of who canidentify Stanski and the woman and stop them. And that's you. I know you don'twant to kill them, but you and I both know why you have to. Don't make themistake I did all those years ago. Don't save two lives when you may losemillions."

Eisenhower looked into Massey's eyes."I'm asking you, Jake, don't let your country or me down on thisone."

Dzerzhinsky Square, Moscow.

A scream echoed somewhere in the distanceand Anna came awake, her body drenched in sweat.

A single lightbulb shone overhead and italmost blinded her.

She was lying on a hard wooden bed in atiny windowless cell. Water seeped down the shiny granite walls and the placesmelled of damp and urine. There was a metal door in the far wall and beyond itshe could hear the faint clanking of doors being opened and closed.

She guessed she was in a prison somewhere,but she had no idea where, or if it was day or night, or how she had got there.

One moment it seemed she was being chokedby the KGB man and the next she was here. But everything in between was a blur.Where was Stanski?

Was he dead? Alive? In another cell?

The anxiety consumed her. She rememberedthe scream beyond the cell door. Had she been dreaming or had the scream beenreal? Perhaps it was Stanski? She felt totally confused and helpless, aterrible fear gnawing in her stomach which made her feel ill.

Her left shoulder was stiff and her mouthfelt dry and her body weak. She looked at her shoulder.

A dressing had been applied, the bandageso tightly wrapped that it cut painfully into her flesh. She tried to move herarm and felt a sharp pain stab through her shoulder to the base of her back.

She cried out in agony.

She guessed her shoulder had beendislocated when the KGB major threw himself on top of her in the forest. Sheremembered the sharp pain when he landed, as if a bone had broken. Then she noticeda small red welt in the soft flesh of her arm where a hypodermic had puncturedskin. They had put her to sleep.

As she went to drag her legs over theedge of the bed and sit up she heard the scream again, followed by a torturedcry that rang through the corridor outside.

She shuddered, and the pain stabbedthrough her again.

Where was she? What was happening? Whowas screaming?

She heard the clatter of boots outside, akey being inserted in the lock, then the metal door creaked open on its hinges.

Two men in black KGB uniforms stoodthere. They crossed to the bed and gripped her roughly by the arms, jerked herup. The pain shot through her shoulder in agonizing waves.

As they dragged her from the cell sheblacked out.

When she opened her eyes she was sittingon a chair in a room with black steel bars on the windows.

The room was bare and functional. Greenwalls and a wooden table and two chairs facing each other. The table wasfastened to the floor with steel brackets. The metal door in the far wall had asmall grille and a tiny peephole.

She felt sick with fear and she couldstill feel the waves of pain in her shoulder.

Watery sunlight flooded in through thewindow. Beyond the glass she heard the sound of engines starting up and movingoff, gears crunching, and far off the faint hum of traffic.

She pushed herself painfully from thechair and went to the window.

There was a large cobbled courtyardbelow. She counted seven floors on the opposite side of the building, and therewere bars on all the windows. A dozen or more trucks and cars were parked inone corner of the courtyard, and a half-dozen motorcycles were sheltered in acorrugated shed. Men crossed the courtyard busily, some in civilian clothes andcarrying reams of papers, others in black KGB uniforms.

Her heart sank. As she turned away fromthe window the door opened suddenly.

The KGB man stood there. He wore his blackuniform with major's shoulder boards and carried a manila file under his arm,but there was something different about his false hand this time. In place ofthe leather glove was a metal hook. He locked the door with a key from a chainin his pocket and put the folder on the table.