a tried to enlist his services."

Paul's eyes went from one to the other of them in disbelief. "Enlist his
services? How do you know he hasn't spilled everything? What do you mean
he's kept the information to himself so far?"

Ana said, her voice so low as to be hardly heard, "He's my older
brother. I'm his favorite sister. How much longer he will keep our
secret I don't know. Under the circumstances, I can think of no answer
except that he be eliminated."

It came to Paul Koslov that the team on this side could be just as
dedicated as he was to his own particular cause.

He said, "A Colonel Furtseva at the Soviet Embassy in Stockholm. Very
well. A Hungarian refugee will probably be best. If he's caught, the
reason for the killing won't point in your direction."

"Yes," Ana said, her sensitive mouth twisting. "In fact, Anastas was in
Budapest during the suppression there in 1956. He participated."

* * * * *

The dacha of Leonid Shvernik was in the vicinity of Petrodvorets on the
Gulf of Finland, about eighteen miles from Leningrad proper. It would
have been called a summer bungalow in the States. On the rustic side.
Three bedrooms, a moderately large living-dining room, kitchen, bath,
even a car port. Paul Koslov took a mild satisfaction in deciding that
an American in Shvernik's equivalent job could have afforded more of a
place than this.

Shvernik was saying, "I hope it never gets to the point where you have
to go on the run. If it does, this house is a center of our activities.
At any time you can find clothing here, weapons, money, food. Even a
small boat on the waterfront. It would be possible, though difficult, to
reach Finland."

"Right," Paul said. "Let's hope there'll never be occasion."

Inside, they sat around a small table, over the inevitable bottle of
vodka and cigarettes, and later coffee.

Shvernik said, "Thus far we've rambled around hurriedly on a dozen
subjects but now we must become definite."

Paul nodded.

"You come to us and say you represent the West and that you wish to help
overthrow the Soviets. Fine. How do we know you do not actually
represent the KGB or possibly the MVD?"

Paul said, "I'll have to prove otherwise by actions." He came to his
feet and, ignoring Ana, pulled out his shirt tail, unbuttoned the top
two buttons of his pants and unbuckled the money belt beneath.

He said, "We have no idea what items you'll be wanting from us in the