"What sort of information?"

"Pretty high-grade stuff out of theKremlin. Some of it pretty hot."

"How hot?"

Branigan smiled thinly. "On a scaleof red hot to boiling, I would probably bust the fucking thermometer."

"Has this got something to do withwhy I was recalled?"

Branigan shifted his heavy bulk in thechair. "We knew you'd want to see the bodies. You and Max went way back.heard you knew each other as kids in the streets of Little Russia. I rememberMax told me once you were kind of like brothers. But you're right, that's notthe real reason you're here There's something I want you to see. I guess it'llexplain every thing."

Branigan unlocked a drawer with a key hekept on a ring in his pocket. He slid out a buff-colored file and placed it onthe table. Stamped along the top in red letters was "For President's Eyesonly." He looked at Massey.

"Needless to say, the classificationsays it all. But it seems you're a special case."

He slipped his jacket from the back ofthe chair and pulled it on, smiling thinly as a hint of aggression crept intohis voice.

,,Only get this straight. You tell nobodyabout the contents of that file unless you're cleared to do so. Which Iguarantee you won't be--ever, not in a million years. I'm going to leave youalone for say fifteen minutes. That ought to be enough time to read what'sinside and prime you for what you're going to hear later. When I come back I'mtaking you to see Wallace. He's expecting us at his place. Another thing. Ifyou need to use the john, use it now."

"Why?"

Branigan found another key on the ring."Because I'm going to lock the door after me while I go get a coffee andlet you read that in peace. No one else in this building gets to see what's inthe file except you and me. And I've given orders no one's to knock so youwon't be disturbed. You need to use the john?"

"I guess not."

Branigan stood. "OK, just two moreinstructions you ought to know. One, this meeting never happened. Two, as oftoday you're officially on indefinite leave on health grounds and you're aboutto take it on full pay. For the records, you're depressed, and you need a breakfrom intelligence work."

Massey frowned. "Do you mind tellingme what the hell's going on?"

There was an edge of irritation inBranigan's voice. "It's all in the file. And between those pages you'llfind the reason why Max Simon and his kid were murdered, and it doesn't makepleasant reading."

When he saw Massey stare at him, Braniganshrugged his shoulders. "The instructions ain't mine." He pointed afinger to the ceiling. "They come from high above."

"How high?"

"The President.@'

Washington, D.C. January 22nd, 4 Pm.

The white-painted house in Georgetownlooked as imposing as any in the select neighborhood that housed Washington'selite.

Built of wood, the clapboard three-storycolonial property sat secure in a vast walled private garden of cherry and peartrees, and although it was winter the three men sat out on the back patio inwrought-iron garden seats.

The Assistant Director, William G.Wallace, was a Yale man, silver-haired and in his late fifties, and his tannedface bore the vestiges of a recent winter vacation in Miami.

When the small talk was over theAssistant Director looked over at Massey, smiled faintly and said, "Youread the file, Jake?"

"I read it." Massey nodded.

"Have you any questions?"

"One, who knows about this?"

"Besides you, Branigan and me? Onlythe President and the Director." The Assistant Director smiled."There is one other I should mention, who's aware, shall we say, of ourintentions, and not what you've read, but we'll come to that later."

Branigan interrupted. "Maybe Ibetter fill in the gaps, sir?"

The Assistant Director nodded. "Iguess you better, Karl. I want Jake to be crystal clear about what he'sread."

Branigan ran a hand through his croppedhair and looked at Massey.

"Jake, what you saw back in theoffice was a confidential report written by Joseph Stalin's private physicians.It was the last report we received from Max Simon a month before he wasmurdered. You know the contents but I'll go over them again to clear up anypoints. Number one, Stalin has had two strokes in the last six months and as aresult his speech and movement are impaired.

"Number two, his medical people allagree that either as a result of the strokes or another medical condition, he'sbecome mentally unstable. He's displaying signs of paranoid schizophrenia. Putsimply, the man's going crazy."

Branigan smiled. "Now we and theworld know he's already a certifiable nut, but this report confirms it and putsit in perspective. Something else you ought to know. The doctors in the Kremlinwho wrote the medical report were arrested on a charge of trying to poisonStalin. Whether it's true or not we don't know, but we do know they were takento the Lubyanka prison. We've got no information on their fate, but I'd guessit ain't exactly rosy. Most of the doctors were Jews. Stalin's made no secretof the fact he hates the Jews, Purges have already started in Russia. And somethingyou should know about-our intelligence people have confirmed Stalin's alreadybuilding concentration camps in Siberia and the Urals. He intends to finishwhat the Nazis started. Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it? A buildup toanother situation like the one we had with Adolf Hitler."

Massey stared at Branigan. "Whatexactly are you saying?"

The Assistant Director interrupted."Jake, we know Max Simon was receiving those reports from a highly placedand reliable Russian contact in the Berne Embassy. He was a Jew. I say wasbecause I doubt he's still alive. But he was worried, like some of his Kremlinfriends, not all of them Jews, about the direction Moscow's going in. Jake, letme put it simply. Stalin is a danger. And I don't mean only to America but thewhole damned world, including his own people. Everybody from Congress to theman in the street believes there's another war on the horizon. And this onewon't be like the last-but it may well be the last. The potential for worldwidedestruction is enormous. Stalin has set his sights on completing his hydrogenbomb program before we do and we know for sure that's going to happen. Andthat's a mighty dangerous scenario.

"Hell, we're building falloutshelters all over this country as fast as we can but that's pretty much all wecan do-we're not prepared for war. But Uncle Joe has made it pretty plain inthe past what his intentions are. He sees a war with us as inevitable. I guessit's an obsession with him. A death wish. And a crazy old man with an obsessionis pretty likely to want that wish satisfied."

Massey looked impatiently from Braniganto the Assistant Director. "Will someone kindly tell me just what in thehell all this is leading to?"

"Jake, the President believesStalin's going to use that bomb just as soon as it's ready. We're talkingmonths, not years. Now we can either sit on the fence and wait for the worst tohappen or we can come up with a solution to remove the problem. A solutionthat's much better for everyone in the circumstances. It calls for a prettyspecial operation. And I want you to head it." Massey said, "And whatsolution is that?"

It was Branigan who answered. "Wekill Stalin."

The silence went on for several longmoments. The Assistant Director looked out at the bare winter trees, then backat Massey.

"You don't look happy, Jake. Ithought you'd be impressed."

"Whose idea was it?"