of the streets; at the intersection where the Kirov Theatre stood, there were three shelters and his confusion mounted. He visited all three, more and more bewildered.
The strategy had the expected effect on the woman following Mikovsky. She interpreted the old man's actions as those of a subject aware that he might be under surveillance, a subject unschooled in methods of evasion but also old and frightened and capable of creating an uncontrollable situation. So the woman in the brown overcoat and visored cap kept her distance, staying in shadows, going from darkened storefront to dimly lit alleyways, propelled into agitation herself by the unpredictabflity of her subject.
The old scholar started on his return pattern to the library. Vasili and Maletkin watched from a vantage point seventy-five meters away. Taleniekov studied the route directly across the wide avenue; there were two al- leyways, both of which would be used by the woman as Mikovsky passed her on the way back.
"Come along," ordered Vasili, grabbing Maletkin's arm, pushing him forward. "We'll get behind him in the crowd on the other side.
She'll turn away as he goes by, and when he passes that second alleyway, she'll use it." "Why are you so sure?" "Because she used it before; ifs the natural thing to do. I'd use it. We will use it now." "How?" "I'll tell you when we're in position." ne moment was drawing near and Taleniekov could feel the drumlike beat in his chest. He had orchestrated the events of the past sixteen minutes, the next few would determine whether the orchestration had merit. He knew two indisputable facts: one, the woman would recognize him instantly; she would have been provided with photographs and a detailed physical description.
Two, should the violence go against her, she would take her own life as quickly and as efficiently as the Englishman had done in Lodzia's flat.
Timing and shock were the only tools at his immediate disposal. He would provide the first, the traitor from Vyborg the second.
They crossed the square with a group of pedestrians and walked into the crowds in front of the Kirov Theatre. Vasili glanced over his shoulder and saw Mikovsky weave his way awkwardly through the line forming for tickets, breathing with difficulty.
"Listen to me and do exactly as I say," said Taleniekov, holding Maletkin's arm. "Repeat the words I say to you...." They entered the flow of pedestrians walking up the pavement, remaining behind a quartet of soldiers, their bulky overcoats serving as a wall Vasili could see beyond at will. The scholar up ahead approached the first alleyway; the woman briefly disappeared into it, then reemerged as he passed.
Moments now. Only moments.
The second alleyway. Mikovsky was in front of it, the woman within.
'Wowl" Vasili ordered, rushing with Maletkin toward the entrance.
He heard the words MaIetkin shouted so they would be unmistakable above the noise of the streets.
"Comrade, wait. Stopl Circolol Nostro circolol" Silence. The shock was almost total.
"Who are you?" The question was asked in a cold, tense voice.
"Stop everythingl I have news from the shepherdl" "What?" The shock was now complete.
Taleniekov spun around the corner of the alley, rushing toward the woman, his hands two springs uncoiling as he lunged. He grabbed her arms, his fingers sliding instantly down to her wrists, immobilizing her hands, one of which was in her overcoat pocket, gripped around a gun. She recoiled, spinning to her left, her weight dead, pulling him forward, then sprang to her right, her left foot lashing up into him, close to her body like an enraged cat's claw repelling another animal.
He countered, attacking directly, lifting her off her feet, crashing her writhing body into the alleyway wall, pummeling her with his shoulder, crushing her into the brick.
It happened so fast he was only vaguely aware of what she was doing until he felt her teeth sinking into the flesh of his neck. She had thrust her face into his-a move so unexpected he could only twist away in pain. Her mouth was wide, her red lips parted grotesquely. The bite was vicious, her jaws two clamps vicing into the side of his neck. He could feel blood drenching his collar; she would not let gol The pain was excruciating; the harder he battered her into the wall, the deeper her teeth went into his flesh. He could not stand it. He released her arms, his hands clawing at her face, pulling her from him.
The explosion was loud, distinct, yet muffled by the heavy cloth of