He turned to the man standing beside himand said, "You're certain about this, Yegem?"

Yegem Orainov was small and thin and worethick black spectacles. He had the look of a distracted professor about him,wild tufts of wiry black hair sprouting from his head, but despite hisappearance he held the rank of KGB captain in the New York Soviet Mission.

"Certain as we can be. I had thephoto prints checked out with our people here and in Europe. It definitelylooks like the man named Massey."

"Tell me about him."

"He runs the Munich CIA operationsoffice. Apparently, he's been a thorn in our side for a long time. The questionis, what do we do about it?"

Akashin shook his head. "Thequestion is, surely, what's he doing with the woman, Anna Khorev?"

I went through the file you gave me, theone on the woman. Then I had some copies of these photographs sent to Helsinkiin one of our diplomatic bags. We think Massey was present when our peopleinterviewed her, although as you'd expect he used a different name. ColonelRomulka's aide remembers him, and the description would seem to fit. Also, ourman who watched her at Helsinki airport saw the photographs and thinks Masseywas with the Americans who escorted her to the plane."

"What about the second man?"

Orainov smiled. "Now that's where itgets even more interesting. We're not a hundred percent sure, but we're prettycertain it's a man named Alex Stanski." Akashin said, "The AlexStanski'? The one they call the Wolf?"

Oraiiiov nodded. "The same. Moscowhas a price on his head, as you know. We've wanted him a long time. RememberGrenady Kraskin who got hit in East Berlin over two months ago'? We thinkStanski did it."

Feliks Akashin stepped toward the windowand rubbed his fleshy face. Beyond the glass lay East 67th Street with itscluttered chaos of traffic, and to the west, Central Park. He always consideredthe situation in America's commercial capital to be ridiculous, and theAmericans tolerant fools. Under cover of the Soviet trade mission, consulate,or Soviet news agencies, and sealed off' from the other parts of the UN missionand with their own independent communications to Moscow, their files immunefrom search and with reasonable ability to move freely about New York, KGBbranch chiefs and their officers went about their daily business as if theywere working in Moscow Headquarters itself. Crazy, but it worked to theiradvantage.

For several moments Akashin was deep inthought, then turned to his visitor and said, "You can go now, Yegeni.Leave the photographs. Well done."

The man left and Akashin lit a cigarette.Yegeni Oramov had supplied him with the confirmation he needed of Braun'slatest report. He stood there a moment before he crossed back to his desk. Hepicked up the internal telephone and dialed a three-digit number to hissuperior's office. As he waited for the other end to answer he glanced over atthe portrait of Joseph Stalin on the wall above his desk. The face stared downat him, a wry smile on the lips. Akashin shivered. The line clicked.

"Leonid'@ Akashin here. Can I comeup'? This won't take a minute. Something's come up I think is important and I'dlike your opinion."

Leonid Kislov was a stout man in his latefifties who chainsmoked four packs of American cigarettes a day.

As senior KGB station officer in the NewYork Mission, with the rank of colonel, he had a lot of worries, not least ofwhich were a duodenal ulcer and a fiery Georgian wife who harried himconstantly. That morning he was in a foul mood, his ulcer playing up, and as hegestured for Akashin to sit he said, "Make it quick, Feliks, I've got ameeting with the Ambassador in half an hour."

"Problems?" Akashin askedsympathetically.

Kislov burped and rubbed his chest beforehe slipped a couple of tablets from a glass bottle and reached for a glass ofwater on his desk.

"There are always fuckingproblems." He swallowed the ulcer tablets and sipped the water."Washington is up the Ambassador's ass again over the matter of the Jewishdoctors. They want to know what's going on."

"What will he tell them?"

"That it's none of their fuckingbusiness." Kislov grinned. "But politely of course. That's whatdiplomacy is all about. Just as well they don't know what else is going on.They'd have a fucking fit. But fuck them, I say. Their day's going to come, andsooner than we all think."

"Anything you'd care to tellme?"

Kislov looked across sternly. "It'snone of your business, comrade. But I'll slip you a little hint. If things goaccording to plan we won't be here in another six months. This hydrogen projectof ours is almost complete. There's a plan to evacuate us before the troublestarts. And start it will, you can be sure of that," Akashin went slightlypale. "You mean Stalin's almost ready to start a war?" Kislovgrinned. "Like I said, it's not your business." He tapped a cigarettefrom the pack on his desk and lit it, glanced at his watch and said gruffly,"What did you want to see me about?"

Akashin explained about the photographsand the woman as he lay the shots on the table and Kislov examined them.

The photographs were taken from adistance and rather clumsily too. The images were grainy and of poor quality.

"These photographs are crap,"commented Kislov.

Akashin half smiled. "True. ButLombardi's men are not trained photographers and they couldn't risk getting tooclose in case they were spotted. Still, we're as sure as we can be that the twomen in the shots are Massey and Stanski."

Kislov knew about the woman, but up tonow hadn't been interested in the details and preferred to let Akashin get onwith it. But now he leaned forward and drew on his cigarette.

"Interesting."

"That's what I thought."

"But it hardly matters in theoverall scheme of things, does it'? Why Moscow wastes its time on pitifulmatters such as this is beyond me."

"So what do you propose?"

" Something tells me Massey is up tosomething. And with this Stanski in the picture it might suggest Massey perhapshas an agent drop in mind. Maybe even using the girl. She'd be an ideal choice,considering she knows our country."

Kislov shrugged his bulky shoulders."Possible, but speculative. So why come to me?"

"We have three choices. One, takeout the woman, as we intended. Two, take her out and kill Massey and Stanski inthe process as a bonus. Or three, we keep tailing them and see what they're upto. If it's a drop Massey intends, we could try to find out where and when andtake them when they land on Soviet soil."

Kislov sat farther back in his chair andthought for a moment, then drew on his cigarette.

Finally he shook his head. "Thesecond option is not the best way to go and the third is risky and speculative.We may not be able to discover when or where they're going to drop, if that'swhat's happening. The first seems the best choice, and besides, it's whatMoscow ordered." He frowned. "You never told me how you know wherethese people are? Massey, Stanski, the woman?"

Akashin smiled. "Simple really.Lombardi had a couple of his men follow Massey and the woman when they took atrain to Boston. They were met there by this man-Stanski." Akashin pointedto a grainy photograph taken at Boston railway station of Massey shaking handswith Stanski, Anna Khorev beside them.

"As you know, Colonel Romulka hastaken a personal interest in the woman's case." Akashin smiled faintly."Apparently, she made quite an impression when she met him in Helsinki.There's more to it than that, of course, but no doubt Romulka wants his poundof flesh. And with respect, Leonid, I'd hardly call the Wolf a piffling matter.He's been a scourge for quite some time."