He understood her pain, wanted to tellher so, but knew she wouldn't believe him. It was pointless. Besides, he wasbecoming emotionally affected, not a good thing. He took a handkerchief fromhis pocket and dabbed her wet face.

She pushed him away.

He touched her arm.

"Anna, before I take you back to theLubyanka we have to talk."

She pushed him away again.

"Don't touch me!"

Her tears had stopped but she seemed inshock, her eyes glazed, and he wondered if she had gone over the edge. Therewas something deeply disturbing about the look on her face and he wondered ifhe should take her to a doctor.

Anna, look at me."

She didn't look back at him as she spoke,the red eyes staring into space, pain in her voice. "Why have you donethis to me?

Why have you put me through this?"

"No matter what happens I thoughtyou would want to see Sasha again."

"Because I'm going to die?"

"I told you the alternative. And ifyou help me, I'll do all I can to make sure that you be allowed to take yourdaughter with you."

She looked at him, grief in her face."And what sort of life would that be for my daughter? Livina in the hellof a camp in some frozen wasteland. You think she'd survive that?"

"At least you'd be together."

"She'd survive in the orphanage. Ina camp she'd be dead within a year."

Lukin sighed, not knowing whether to sayit, seeing the desolation in her face. "Anna, if you don't talk, it's notonly you who'll die. Sasha may die with you."

He saw her face turn white as she staredat him. "No ... you couldn't do that. She's ... she's only a child ..

Lukin stood and looked down at her.

It's not up to me, Anna. But I knowBeria. And I know Romulka, the man who will interrogate you if I fail. They'ddo it if they can't make you talk. I'm going to be honest with you. Beria'sgiven me until tomorrow night. If I fail, I hand you over to him. He'll breakyou, Anna, be certain of it. And once you're out of my hands I'll have no sayin the matter."

He looked down at her wet eyes."Help me, Anna. For Sasha's sake, help me find Stanski."

As Stanski walked through the crowdedLubyansky Arcade, bodies pressed in on him, people bustling past and jostlingto squeeze into the tiny, drab shops that lined the arcade.

When he came out of the arcade at the farend he was in a narrow cobbled street. He turned right and came around onto thestreet opposite the side entrance of the west wing of KGB Headquarters. He sawanother pair of tall double oak doors like those at the front, but here therewas no guard. Twenty meters beyond the doors he noticed a cobbled street at theback of the KGB building. It was crowded with parked military trucks and, acouple of civilian cars.

He saw a pair of massive black gates setbetween the stone walls and guessed it was the entrance to the Lubyanka prison.Two uniformed guards stood beside a sentry hut, rifles slunover theirshoulders. Powerful searchlights ran the entire length of the top of thebuilding and every window had steel bars.

The place looked impenetrable.

Suddenly the guards stood back and thegates swun- in and a covered Zil truck thundered out and turned left into thetraffic.

Stanski glimpsed a courtyard inside andranks of parked trucks and cars and then the gates swung shut again.

As he stood there one of the guards onthe gate noticed him. He turned around and walked back along the square.

One whole side of the square seemed toconsist of dingy cafes and restaurants. As he passed the window of a cafe hesaw a number of men in dark blue uniforms sitting inside. He guessed from theirappearance and uniform markings that they were guards from the prison on theirbreak.

He went inside the cafe and got in lineto pay for a glass of tea, then took his receipt to a stoutly built womanserving behind the counter. She handed him the glass in a metal cup and he tookit to a table near the prison guards. '

He made a mental note of the guards' rankand uniform markings. They were a hardened-looking bunch of men, talking inwhispers among themselves. He wondered if any of them were guarding Anna. Ifshe was alive.

There was a burst of coarse laughter frombehind.

When Stanski glanced around he saw aflash of color. Half a dozen small, wiry men, their Uzbek faces brown andwrinkled, were leaving their table and heading toward the door. Wisps of beardsdangled from their chins and their shortcropped heads were covered in brightlycolored skull caps. Some wore brightly dyed silk or cotton gowns over theirshoulders and they chatted in a dialect Stanski couldn't understand. Theylooked like a flock of exotic birds in the drab surroundings.

He looked back at the KGB building acrossthe street. Suddenly he heard a jabber of excited voices and saw two of theUzbeks push their way to the window and stare out into the street. A distinctiveolive-green BMW had halted at a set of traffic lights in front of the cafd. TheUzbeks pointed excitedly at the car and jabbered among themselves.

Stanski looked at the man and womanseated in the BMW and his blood froze.

Lukin sat in the driver's seat, Annabeside him.

Stanski could hardly believe his eyes. Itwas definitely Lukin. The false hand was unmistakable, but this time it was ametal hook. And Anna's face he saw clearly through the windshield.

Suddenly the traffic lights turned greenand the BMW started to move. Stanski stood up frantically and pushed past theUzbeks, knocking one of them over in his race toward the door.

As he stepped out, the BMW was alreadymoving away toward the back of Dzerzhinsky Square and the entrance to the Lubyanka.

Stanski broke into a run. He was hardlyaware of passersby staring at him; he was like a man possessed as he chasedafter the BMW, wanting to wrench Lukin from the car, shoot him, grab Anna andrun.

Up ahead now the BMW halted in the middleof the road, the right indicator on as it waited for a break in the oncomingtraffic to turn into the cobbled street that led to the Lubyanka.

Stanski kept running along the pavement,pushing through the crowds, his eyes on the car.

Fifty meters. Forty.

He saw Lukin's fingers tapping thesteering wheel impatiently. Tapping. Tapping. Thirty meters. Twenty.

He moved out onto the road and as he ranhe kept his eyes on Lukin, watched the fingers still tapping on the steeringwheel, waiting for the traffic to let him pass. Ten meters. Close enough to geta shot. He wrenched the Tokarev from his inside pocket.

At the angle he approached the BMW hecould see only the back of Anna's head, but he saw Lukin's face clearly, andhate raged inside him like an inferno. Five meters. Lukin still hadn't turnedto see him. Stanski cocked and aimed the Tokarev.

Suddenly a truck coming in the oppositedirection screeched to a halt. Stanski saw the truck driver stare in disbeliefat the gun.

Just as he reached the BMW, Lukin applieda burst of power, thinking the truck driver was stopping for him. The BMWscreeched forward and accelerated as it swung right toward the massive blackgates of the prison.

One of the guards hammered on the gatesand they swung open and the car disappeared inside.

Stanski caught a glimpse of Anna's facebefore the guards swung the gates shut again. He swore as he quickly put thegun away. Too late.

The Gates of Hell had opened and closedand swallowed her up.

Henri Lebel opened his eyes.

Not that it mattered much because it wasdark. For a while he lay there, his body so stiff he couldn't even feel thatthe hard wooden bed under him had no mattress. Whatever was in the syringe hadknocked him out cold for a long time. And then something clicked in his headand he was filled with a terrible unease.