But he was an academic, not a field man, and Vasili cursed himself for trying to instruct him. One of the two VKR men spotted him and came forward, pushing aside the waiters in the aisle.
Then he saw Taleniekov and his hand whipped into the open space of his jacket and toward an unseen weapon. As he did so, the Greek seaman lurched up from his chair, weaving unsteadily, waving his arms like a man with too much vodka in him. He slammed against the VKR man, who tried to push him away. The Greek feigned drunken indignation and pushed back with such force that the Russian went sprawling over a table, sending dishes and food crashing to the floor.
Vasili sprang up and raced past his old friend from Riga, pulling him toward the narrow hallway; then he saw the American. Zaimis was on his feet, his gun in his hand. Mod "Put that away!" shouted Taleniekov. "Don't expose-" It was too late. A gunshot exploded through the sounds of chaos, escalating it instantly into pandemonium. The CIA man brought both his hands to his chest as he fell, the shirt beneath his jacket suddenly drenched with blood.
Vasili grabbed the cryptographer by the shoulder, yanking him through the narrow archway. There was a second gunshot; the code man arched spastically, his legs together, an eruption of flesh at his throat. He had been shot through the back of the neck.
Talenickov lunged to the floor of the hallway, stunned at what followed.
He heard a third gunshot, a shrill scream after it, penetrating the cacophony of screams surrounding it. And then the Greek seaman crashed through the archway, an automatic in his hand.
"Is there a way out back here?" he roared in broken English. "We have to run. The first goat got away. Others will come!" Taleniekov scrambled to his feet and gestured for the Greek to follow him. Together they raced through a door into a kitchen filled with terrified cooks and waiters, and out into an alley. They turned left and ran through a maze of dark connecting pavements between the old buildings until they reached the back streets of Sevastopol.
They kept running for more than a mile. Vasili knew every inch of the city, but it was the Greek who kept shouting the turns they must make. As they entered a dimly lit side street, the seaman grabbed Taleniekov's arm; the man was out of breath.
"We can rest here for a minute," he said, gasping. "They won't find us." "It's not a place we think of first in a search," agreed Vasili, looking at the row of neat apartment buildings.
"'Always Ede out in a well-kept neighborhood," said the seaman. "The residents veer from controversy; they'd inform on you in a minute.
Everybody knows it so they don't look in such places." "You say we can stay 'for a minute,"' said Taleniekov. "I'm not sure where we'll go after that. I need time to think." "You rule out the ship then?" asked the Greek. "I thought so." "Yes. Zaimis had papers on him. Worse, he had one of my guns. The VKR will be swarming over the piers within the hour." The Greek studied Vasili in the dim light. "So the great Taleniekov flees Russia. He can remain only as a corpse." "Not from Russia, only from frightened men. But I do have to leave-for a while. I've got to figure out how." "There is a way," said the merchant seaman simply. "We'll head over the northwest coast, then south into the mountains. You'll be in Greece in three days." "How?" "There's a convoy of trucks that go first to Odessa...."
Taleniekov sat on the hard bench in the back of the truck, the light of dawn seeping through the billowing canvas flaps that covered the sides. In a while, he and the others would have to crawl beneath the floor boards, remaining motionless and silent on a concealed ]edge between the axles, while they passed through the next check.
point. But for an hour or so they could stretch and breathe air that did not reek of oil and grease.
He reached into his pocket and took out the cipher from Washington, the cable that had already cost three lives.
Invitation Kasimir. Schrankenwarten five goals. Un- ter den Linden. Przseslvac zero. Prague. Repeat text. Zero. Repeat again at will. Zero.
Beowulf Agate.
Two codes. One meaning.
With his pen, Vasili wrote out that meaning beneath the cipher.