anything, but, like, he mouthed the words, you know? I thought that was funny, but the guy in the right-front reacted real strong to that. I was slow. I shoulda reacted faster. Too damned slow."
"You said that one of them said something?" Perkins asked.
"The bastard who shot me. I don't know what it was. Not English, not Spanish. I just remember the last word maht, something like that."
"Yob' tvoyu mat'!" Jennings said at once.
"Yeah, that's it." Mendez nodded. "What's it mean?"
"It means 'fuck your mother.' Excuse me," Perkins said, his Mormon face fairly glowing scarlet. Mendez went rigid on his bed. One doesn't say such things to an angry man with a Hispanic name.
"What?" the state police Captain asked.
"It's Russian, one of their favorite curses." Perkins looked at Jennings.
"Oh, boy," she breathed, scarcely able to believe it. "We're calling Washington right now."
| "We have to identify the-wait a minute!-Gregory?" Perkins said. "God almighty. You call Washington. I'll call the Project office."
It turned out that the state police could move the fastest. Candi answered a knock on the door and was surprised to
( )
for a beat. "I'll get you out of here."
"The American woman, she knows you by sight-"
"Obviously. I suppose you want her eliminated? After all, we've broken one rule, why not another? What fucking madman ordered this operation?"
"The orders came from very high," Leonid replied.
"How high?" she demanded, and got only a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. "You're joking."
"The nature of the order, the 'immediate action' prefix- what do you think?"
"I think all of our careers are ruined, and that assumes that we-well, we will. But I will not agree to the murder of my agent. We have as yet not killed anyone, and I do not think that our orders contemplated-"
"That is correct," Bob said aloud, while his head shook emphatically from side to side. Bisyarina's mouth dropped open.
"This could start a war," she said quietly, in Russian. She didn't mean a real war, but rather something almost as bad, open conflict between KGB and CIA officers, something that almost never happened, even in third-world countries, where it usually involved surrogates killing other surrogates, and for the most part never knowing why-and even that was rare enough. The business of intelligence services was to gather information. Violence, both sides tacitly agreed, got in the way of the real mission. But if both sides began killing the strategic assets of their opponents
"You should have refused the order," she said after a moment.
"Certainly," Bob observed. "I understand that the Kolyma camps are lovely this time of year, all glistening white with their blanket of snow." The odd thing-at least it would seem so to a Westerner-was that neither officer bothered considering surrendering with a request of political asylum. Though it would have ended their personal dangers, it would mean betraying their country.
"What you do here is your account, but I will not kill my agent," "Ann" said, ending discussion of the issue. "I'll get you out."
"How?"
"I don't know yet. By car, I think, but I will have to come up with something new. Perhaps not a car. Perhaps a truck," she mused. There were lots of trucks out here, and it was not the least unusual for a woman to drive one. Take a van across the border, perhaps? A van with boxes in it Gregory in a box, drugged or gagged perhaps all of them what are customs procedures like for such things? She'd never had to worry about that before. With a week's warning, as she would have had for a proper operation, she'd have had time to answer a lot of questions.
Take your time, she told herself. We've had enough of hurrying, haven't we?
"Two days, perhaps three."
"That's a long time," Leonid observed.
"I may need that long to evaluate the countermeasures that we are likely to face. For the moment, don't bother shaving."
Bob nodded after a moment. "It is your territory."
"When you get back, you can write this up as a case study in why operations need proper preparation," Bisyarina said. "Anything else you need?"
"No."
"Very well. I will see you again tomorrow afternoon."
"No," Beatrice Taussig told the agents. "I saw Al this afternoon. I"-she glanced uneasily at Candi-"I wanted him to help me with-well, with picking up a birthday present for Candace tomorrow. I saw him in the parking lot, too, but that was it. You really think-I mean, the Russians ?"
"That's what it looks like," Jennings said.
"My God."
"Does Major Gregory know enough that-" Jennings was surprised that