received was in foreign countries-under strange names-when he was in deep cover. And then, the correspondence was in code and cipher, its meaning in no way related to the words on the paper. Yet sometimes those words were warm and friendly, and he would pretend for a few minutes that they meant what they said. But only for a few minutes; it did no good to pretend. Unless one was analyzing an enemy.
He started up the narrow staircase, annoyed by the dim light of the low-wattage bulbs. He was quite sure the planners in Moscow's Iliktrichiskaya did not live in such buildings.
Then he heard the creak. It was not the result of structural stress; it had nothing to do with the subfreezing cold or the winds outside. It was the sound of a human being shifting his weight on a floorboard. His ears were the ears of a trained craftsman, distances judged quickly. The sound did not come from the landing above, but from higher up the staircase. His flat was on the next floor; someone was waiting for him to approach. Someone wanted him inside his rooms perhaps, egress awkward, a trap being set.
Vasili continued his climb, the rhythm of his footsteps unbroken. The years had trained him to keep such items as keys and coins in his left-hand pockets, freeing his right to reach quickly for a weapon, or to b,e used as a weapon itself. He came to the landing and turned; his door was only feet away.
There was the creak again, faint, barely heard, mixed with the sound of the distant wind outside. Whoever was on the staircase had moved back, and that told him two things: the intruder would wait until be was definitely inside his flat, and whoever it was was either careless or inexperienced or both.
One did not move when this close to a quarry; the air was a conductor of motion.
In his left hand was his key; his right had unfastened the buttons of his overcoat and was now gripped around the handle of his automatic, strapped in an open holster across his chest. He inserted the key, opened the door, then yanked it shut, stepping back rapidly, silently into the shadows of the staircase. He stayed against the wall, his gun leveled in front of him over the railing.
The sound of footsteps preceded the rushing figure as it raced to the door.
In the figure's left hand was an object; he could not see it now, it was hidden by the heavily clothed body. Nor were there seconds to wait. If the object was an explosive, it would be on a timer-release. The figure had raised his right hand to knock on the door.
"Press yourself into the doorl Your left hand in front of you! Between your stomach and the wood! Now!" "Pleasel" The figure spun halfway around; Taleniekov was on him, throwing him against the panel. He was a young man, a boy really, barely in his teens, thought Vasili. He was tall for his age, but his age was obvious from his face; it was callow, the eyes wide and clear and frightened.
Chapter Three
"Move back slowly," said Taleniekov harshly. "Raise your left hand.
Slowly." The young man moved back, his left hand exposed; it was clenched into a fist.
"I didn't do anything wrong, sir. I swear itl" The young man's whisper cracked in fear.
"Who are you?" "Andreev Danilovich, sir. I live in the Cheremushki." "You're a long way from home," said Vasili. The housing development referred to by the youth was nearly forty-five minutes south of Red Square.
"The weather's terrible and someone your age could be picked up by the militsianyer." "I bad to come here, sir," answered Andreev. "A man's been shot; he's hurt very badly. I think he's going to die. I am to give this to you." He opened his left hand; in it was a brass emblem, an army insignia denoting the rank of general. Its design had not been used in more than thirty years. "The old man said to say the name Krupskaya, Aleksie Krupskaya. He made me say it several times so I wouldn't forget it. It's not the name he uses down at the Cheremushki, but it's the one he said to give you. He said I must bring you to him. He's dying, sir!" At the sound of the name, Taleniekov's mind raced back in time. Aleksie Krupskaya! It was a name he had not heard in years, a name few people