"It was a decision made at thehighest Lebel."

"Meaning?"

The Assistant Director smiled."Meaning the answer to that question is classified."

Massey frowned and pushed himself up fromthe chair "With respect, sir, what you're suggesting is impossible. itwould be suicide for whoever goes in."

"And that's exactly why it wouldwork. Moscow would never expect it. Stalin is seventy-three. He's an old man inpoor health. You could say why don't we simply wait until he dies?' TheAssistant Director shook his head. "Jake, he could liv another five, tenyears. We can't take that risk. We've got to fight dirty on this one. And in abarroom brawl you can't fight by the Marquess of Queensberry rules. Short of apre-emptive war, which we're not prepared for on that scale, it's the onlysensible solution we've got. We're not prepared to sit back an let anotherPearl Harbor happen. Not ever. Naturally, it's solution not without its risks.That's why the mission will b limited to a small number of personnel operatingexternally. one we would disassociate ourselves from if it went wrong. Theoperation would be yours and yours alone. This is not an order to accept, Jake.But I guess if it comes to it, I could make it one."

"Why me?"

The Assistant Director smiled. "Easy.I can't think of anyone more qualified or experienced. Damn it, Jake, you'vesent more men across the curtain than anyone I can think of."

Massey crossed to the end of the patioand looked back at the Assistant Director and shook his head. "It's a crazyidea."

"Crazier ideas have worked for usbefore. And if we'd done something like this some time back, someone likeHitler would never have started a war."

Massey shook his head. "You don'tunderstand. Getting someone close enough to Stalin to kill him is impossible.People have tried before and failed. Immigrant groups. The Nazis. Remember theNTS report?"

Massey saw the Assistant Director nod, alook like distaste on his face. "Sure I remember."

The NTS, or Narodny Trudovoy Soyuz, was agroup of ethnic Russians and Ukrainians in Europe and America, controlled bythe CIA, who were devoted to the destruction of the Soviet regime. Many of itsmembers had volunteered to be parachuted onto Soviet soil on CIA reconnaissancemissions after the war. Many had also paid with their lives, both inside Russiaand without, victims of Stalin's murder squads, dispatched to Europe andAmerica to kill any prominent Soviet immigrants who actively opposed Moscow.Two years after the war, determined to step up their campaign, NTS had setabout evaluating an assassination attempt to kill Stalin in Moscow.

Massey looked back at the AssistantDirector. "Their report speaks for itself. For one, Stalin's quarters inthe Kremlin are impregnable. Walls twenty-four feet high and five feet thick.Even thicker and higher in places. Then there's the security measures Stalinemploys. Over five hundred guards are stationed in the Kremlin Armory, allhand-picked, " fanatically loyal to Stalin. Less than a half-kilometeraway there's a reserve of three thousand Kremlin troops in case they're needed.And those are only the visible deterrents.

"You both know that inside theKremlin there are secret entrances and exits that go back to the time of theTsars, ready to be used if needed. And at his villa at Kuntsevo his personalsecurity is impossible to breach. A twelve-foot-high fence. Guards with dogsstationed all around the perimeter. You enter that area of forest and comewithin a mile of the place without a special pass and you're dead, shot orchewed to death.

"And it doesn't end there. Everymorsel of food Stalin takes, every sip of liquid that passes his lips, is firsttasted to prevent someone trying to poison him. He even has a woman assignedsolely to serve him tea. Each sachet is kept in a locked safe before it'sserved. Once, a sachet was found not fully sealed.

You know what happened? The woman gotsent to the cellars of the Lubyanka to be shot."

Branigan interrupted. "Jake, everysuit of armor has its chink. It's a matter of finding the right chink. You knowthat."

Massey shook his head firmly. "InStalin's case, there are no chinks. His security is airtight. Some peoplethought there were chinks and tried to kill him, but they all failed. Even theGermans failed. And if crack Nazi troops could fail, what hope have we?"

The Assistant Director sat forward."Jake, what if I told you we have a plan? Ways to get close enough toStalin to kill him. Right now, it's only a rough blueprint, if you like, butwith your experience you could fill in the details of getting our man intoMoscow and make it work."

"Then I'd like to hear it. But who'sgoing to carry out the plan?"

"You are."

"That wasn't what I meant, Who hadyou in mind to send to Moscow?"

Branigan smiled. "We all know there'sonly one man capable of pulling this off. Alex Stanski. He can play a Russianto the hilt and he'd have no hesitation in putting a bullet in Stalin'shead."

Massey thought a moment. "You'reright about Stanski. But what makes you think he'll agree to do it?"

The Assistant stood up. "He alreadyhas, in principle. He's the one other person I told you about who knows of ourplan, but not the details, and he hasn't seen the file you read. But we canrectify that."

Massey sat back and shook his head."Sir, sending Stanski into Moscow alone would be suicide. He's anAmerican, born in Russia, but he hasn't been in Moscow since he was akid."

The Assistant Director smiled."We've been thinking about that. He'll need help. Someone to act as hiswife on the journey until he reaches Moscow and help him get his bearings.There's a woman named Anna Khorev. Border-crosser. I believe you met her inHelsinki. She's been in America almost three months."

Massey frowned. "She's aRussian."

The Assistant Director smiled again."I would have thought that was perfect for what we had in mind. She seemsjust the type we need and besides, she's about the only suitable candidate wehave. She knows Moscow. For the purpose of the mission she won't even know whatStanski is after. And once she helps him get to Moscow we take her back. But Ihave to ask you a question, Jake. Are you still certain about her? I read inher file that even though we accepted her story, one of the senior Finnishofficers who interrogated her claimed we'd been sold down the river. He didn'ttrust the lady one bit."

"I trusted her then, and I'd stilltrust her now." Massey hesitated, doubt clouding his face. "Butyou're assuming she'll help you in the first place. Why should she? She'salready been to hell and back."

"So I read. But I guess we'll haveto take your word about her being trustworthy-I trust your judgment, Jake. Inregard to why she'd do it, she'll have a motive. Or at least we'll give herone."

"What motive?"

The Assistant Director smiled broadly andturned to Branigan. "Karl, why don't you go get us all a drink while Iexplain to Jake. I think we're going to need one after this."

It was two hours later when Masseyreached his house east of Georgetown.

He called the boarding school in Richmondand made arrangements to see his son the next day. He was looking forward toseeing the boy and he knew he had been less of a father than he should but hefelt that somehow the boy understood.

Then he went into the bathroom and ranthe cold-water tap and splashed the icy liquid on his face.

He seldom looked at himself in the mirrorbut that evening he was aware that he looked older than his forty-one years. Hehad seen a lot of unpleasant things in his life, but the image of the frozenbodies that came into his mind, white, lying in the morgue, the holes drilledin their heads, their flesh chewed away by rats, disturbed him.