swallowed and continued. "Shell casings, seven millimeter, American. Bore markings from a Browning Magnum, Grade Four." "A brutal gun," said Taleniekov, nodding. "Very reliable. And the last weapon that would be used by someone sent from Washington." The old man did not seem to hear. "The gun used to kill General Blackburn was a Graz-Burya." Vasili raised his eyebrows. "A prized weapon when obtainable." He paused and added quietly. "I favor mine." "Exactly. As the Magnum, Grade Four, is a favored weapon of another." Taleniekov stiffened. "Oh?" "Yes, Vasili. VKR came up with several names it thinks could be responsible for Yurievich's death. The leading contender was a man you despise: 'Beowulf Agate.' " Taleniekov spoke in a monotone. "Brandon Scofield, Consular Operations.
Code name, Prague-Beowulf Agate." "Yes." "Was he?" "No." The old man struggled to raise his bead on the pillow. "No more than you were involved with Blackburn's death. Don't you see? They know everything; even of operatives whose skills are proven, but whose minds are tired. Who, perhaps, need a significant kill. They are testing the highest levels of power before they make their move." "Who? Who are they?" "The Matarese. The Corsican fever---P "What does that mean?" "It spreads. It has changed, far more deadly in its new form." The old Istrebiteli fell back on the pillow.
"You must be clearer, Aleksie. I can see nothing. What is this Corsican fever, this... Matarese?" Krupskaya's eyes were wide, now staring at the ceiling; he whispered. "No one speaks; no one dares to speak. Our own Presidium; England's Foreign Office, its MI-Six board room; the French Societe Diable d'Etat. And the Americans. Oh, never forget the Americans!... No one speaks. We all used it! We are stained by the Matarese." "Stained? How? What are you trying to say? What in heaven's name is the Matarese?" The old man turned his head slowly; his lips trembled. "Some say it goes back as far as Sarajevo. Others swear it claims Dollfuss, Bernadotte.
.. even Trotsky on its list. We know about Stalin; we contracted for his death." "Stalin? It's true then what was said?" "Oh, yes. Beria, too; we paid." The Istrebiteli's eyes seemed now to float out of focus. "In forty-five... the world thought Roosevelt succumbed to a massive stroke." Krupskaya shook his head slowly, saliva at the comers of his mouth. "There were financial interests who believed his policies with the Soviet were economically disastrous. They could not permit any further decisions on his part. They paid, and an injection was administered." Taleniekov was stunned. "Are you telling me that Roosevelt was killed?
By this Matarese?" "Assassinated, Vasili Vasilivich Taleniekov. That is the word, and that is one of the truths no one will speak of. So many... for so many years. None dare talk of the contracts, the payments. The admissions would be catastrophic... for governments everywhere." "But why? Why was it used, this Matareser, "Because it was available. And it removed the client from the scene." "It's preposterous! Assassins have been caught. Tbere's been no such name ever mentioned!" "You should know better than that, Vasili Vasilivich. You've used the same tactics yourself; no different from the Matarese." "What do you mean?" "You both kill... and program killers." The old man acknowledged Taleniekov's nod. "The Matarese was dormant for years. Then it came back, but it was not the same. Killings took place without clients, without payments. Senseless butchery without a pattern. Men of value kidnapped and slain; aircraft stolen or blown up in mid-air, governments paralyzed-payments demanded or wholesale slaughter the result. The incidents have become more refined, more professional." "You're describing the work of terrorists, Aleksie. Terrorism has no central apparatus." Once again the old Istrebiteli struggled to raise his head. "It does now.
It has for the past several years. BaaderMeinhoff, the Red Brigades, the Palestinians, the African maniacs-they all gravitate to the Matarese. It kills with impunity. And now it is throwing the two superpowers into chaos before it makes its boldest move. And that is to assume control of one or the other. Ultimately, both." "How can you be certain?" "A man was caught, a blemish on his chest, a soldier of the Matarese.
Chemicals were administered, everyone ordered from the room but my source. I had warned him." "You?" "Hear me out. There is a timetable, but to speak of it would be to acknowledge the past; none dare do that! Moscow by assassination, Washington by political maneuver, murder if necessary. Two months, three at the