m that she meant it. "But I was thinking, all
along, that after this was over we'd be married. I'd be able to show you
_my_ country."

"And, I don't know why, I was thinking we both expected to be making a
life for ourselves here."

They were silent for a long time in mutual misery.

Paul said finally, "This is no time to make detailed plans. We love each
other, that should be enough. When it's all over, we'll have the chance
to look over each other's way of life. You can visit the States with
me."

"And I'll take you on a visit to Armenia. I know a little town in the
mountains there which is the most beautiful in the world. We'll spend a
week there. A month! Perhaps one day we can build a summer dacha there."
She laughed happily. "Why practically everyone lives to be a hundred
years old in Armenia."

"Yeah, we'll have to go there sometime," Paul said quietly.

* * * * *

He'd been scheduled to see Leonid that night but at the last moment the
other sent Ana to report that an important meeting was to take place. A
meeting of underground delegates from all over the country. They were
making basic decisions on when to move--but Paul's presence wasn't
needed.

He had no feeling of being excluded from something that concerned him.
Long ago it had been decided that the less details known by the average
man in the movement about Paul's activities, the better it would be.
There is always betrayal and there are always counter-revolutionary
agents within the ranks of an organization such as this. What was the
old Russian proverb? When four men sit down to discuss revolution, three
are police spies and the third a fool.

Actually, this had been astonishingly well handled. He had operated for
over a year with no signs that the KGB was aware of his activities.
Leonid and his fellows were efficient. They had to be. The Commies had
been slaughtering anyone who opposed them for forty years now. To
survive as a Russian underground you had to be good.

No, it wasn't a feeling of exclusion. Paul Koslov was stretched out on
the bed of his king-size Astoria Hotel room, his hands behind his head
and staring up at the ceiling. He recapitulated the events of the past
months from the time he'd entered the Chief's office in Washington until
last night at the dacha with Leonid and Ana.

The whole thing.

And over and over again.

There was a line of worry on his forehead.

[Illustration]

He swu