us, sir."

"_Us!_" Kliment Blagonravov growled bitterly. "You are hardly to be
considered in the Party's ranks any longer, Simonov. Why in the world did
you ever return here?" He sneered fatly. "Your best bet would have been
to escape over the border into the West."

Simonov looked at the file on the other's desk. "I wanted to regain those
reports I made in the early days of my assignment. I've listed in them
some fifty names, names of men and women who are now my friends."

The fat lips worked in and out. "It must be that woman. You've become soft
in the head, Simonov." Blagonravov tapped the file beneath his heavy
fingers. "Never fear, before the week is out these fifty persons will be
either in prison or in their graves."

With a fluid motion, Ilya Simonov produced a small caliber gun, a special
model designed for security agents. An unusual snout proclaimed its quiet
virtues as guns go.

"No, Kliment," Ilya Simonov said.

"Are you mad!"

"No, Kliment, but I must have those reports." Ilya Simonov came to his
feet and reached for them.

With a roar of rage, Kliment Blagonravov slammed open a drawer and dove a
beefy paw into it. With shocking speed for so heavy a man, he scooped up a
heavy military revolver.

And Colonel Ilya Simonov shot him neatly and accurately in the head. The
silenced gun made no more sound than a pop.

Blagonravov, his dying eyes registering unbelieving shock, fell back into
his heavy swivel chair.

* * * * *

Simonov worked quickly. He gathered up his reports, checked quickly to
see they were all there. Struck a match, lit one of the reports and
dropped it into the large ashtray on the desk. One by one he lit them all
and when all were consumed, stirred the ashes until they were completely
pulverized.

He poured himself another vodka, downed it, stiff wristed, then without
turning to look at the dead man again, made his way to the door.

He slipped out and said to the lieutenant, "The Minister says that he is
under no circumstances to be disturbed for the next hour."

The lieutenant frowned at him. "But he has an appointment."

Colonel Ilya Simonov shrugged. "Those were his instructions. Not to be
bothered under any circumstances."

"But it was an appointment with Number One!"

That was bad. And unforeseen. Ilya Simonov said, "It's probably been
canceled. All I'm saying is that Minister Blagonravov instructs you not to
bother him under any ci