in fictitious purchases, unaware of what they were buying.
Krupskaya saw the - danger; he knew. He warned us in 'forty-eight never to make contact again." "Why did he do that?" Vasili had asked. "If the guaran. tee was proven true. I speak prof ession'ally." "Because the Matarese added a condition: the council of the Matarese demanded the right of approval. That's what I was told." "The prerogative of killers-for-bire, I'd think," Taleniekov had interjected. "Some targets simply aren't feasible." "Such approval was never sought in the past. Krupskaya did not think it was based on feasibility." "On what, then?" "Ultimate extortion." "How were the contacts made with this council?" "I never knew. Neither did Aleksie." "Someone bad to make them."
"If they are alive, they will not speak. Krupskaya was right about that." "He called it the Corsican fever. He said the answers might be in Corsica." "It's possible. It's where it began, with the maniac of Corsica.
Guillaume de Matarese." "You still have influence with the party leaders, sir. Will you help me?
Krupskaya told me this Matarese must be--' "No!" the old man had screamed. "Leave me in peacel I've said more than I should, admitted more than I had a right to. But only to warn you, to stop youl The Matarese can do no good for Russial Turn your back on itill "You've misunderstood me. It is I who want to stop it. Them. This Matarese council. I gave my word to Aleksie that---~" "But you've had no words with me!" the withered, once-powerful leader had shouted, his voice childlike in its panic. "I will deny you ever came here, deny anything you sayl You are a stranger, and I do not know youl" Vasili bad left, disturbed, perplexed. He had returned to his flat expecting to spend the night analyzing the enigma that was the Matarese, trying to decide what to do next. As usual he had glanced at the mailslot in the wall; he had actually taken a step away before he realized there was something inside.
It was a note from his contact at the VKR, written in one of the eliptical codes they had arranged between them. The words were innocuous: an agreement to have a late dinner at 11:30 and signed with a girl's first name. The very blandness of the note concealed its meaning. There was a problem of magnitude; the use of eleven meant emergency. No time was to be lost making contact; his friend would be waiting for him at the usual place.
He had been there. At a piva kafe near the Lomonosov State University.
It was a raucous drinking establishment in tune with the new student permissiveness. They had moved to the rear of the hall; his contact had wasted no seconds getting to the point.
"Make plans, Vasili, you're on their list. I don't understand it but that's the word." "Because of the Jew?" "Yes, and it doesn't make sense! When that idiotic news conference was held in New York, we division men laughed. We called it 'Talenickov's surprise.' Even a section chief from Group Nine said he admired what you did; that you taught a lesson to impetuous potato-heads. Then yesterday everything changed. What you did was no longer a joke, but rather a serious interference with basic policy." "Yesterday?" Vasili had asked his friend.
"Late afternoon. Past four o'clock. That bitch director marched through the offices like a gorilla in heat. She smelled a gang rape and she loved it. She told each division man to be at her office at five o'clock. When we got there and listened, it was unbelievable. It was as if you were personally responsible for every setback we've sustained for the past two years. Those maniacs from Group Nine were there, but not the section chief." "How long have I got?" "Three or four days at the outside. Incriminating evidence against you is being compiled. But silently, no one is to say anything." "Yesterday?..." "What happened, Vasili? This isn't a VKR operation. It's something else." It was something else and Taleniekov had recognized it instantly. The yesterday in question had been the day he had seen the two former Kremlin officials who had ordered him from their homes. The something else was the Matarese.
"One day I'll tell you, my friend," Vasili had answered. "Trust me." "Of course. You're the best we have. The best we've ever had." "Right now I need thirty-six, perhaps forty-eight hours. Do I have them?" "I think so. They want your