She thought she could see the lights ofFinland through the trees but she wasn't sure, for there was a flood of lighton the Finnish side of the border, and more guards, but this time in grayovercoats and uniforms.

She saw a sudden movement and her eyeswent back to the Russian side. The guard with the rifle stepped into the tinysentry hut while the other moved into the trees, unbuttoning his fly to relievehimself.

Her body shivered now, knowing what shehad to do, knowing that if she didn't move soon she would freeze to death, theicy cold gnawing deep into her bones. She rolled over in the snow and hergloved hand searched in the leather holster and she found the cold butt of the Nagant revolver.

She rolled back slowly and looked over atthe guard urinating. She knew this was her moment and she took a deep breath.She stood and her legs trembled with fear. As she came out from behind thecover of the trees, she slipped the weapon into the pocket of her overcoat.

She was down at the sentry hut before sheknew it and she saw the guard with the machine-pistol button his trousers andturn abruptly. He stared at her as if she were a ghost.

What he saw was a young woman comingtoward him. Her captain's overcoat with green epaulettes and her officer'swinter hat looked a size too big, her clothes covered in a rime of frost andsnow. Her dark eyes were sunk in their sockets and her lips were cracked fromthe cold.

For a moment he seemed unsure of himself,as if sensing something was wrong, and then he said, "I'm sorry, Captain,but this is a restricted area. Your papers, comrade."

As the guard unslung his machine-gun, hestared suspiciously at the young woman's face, but he didn't see the Na gantrevolver and that was his mistake.

It exploded twice, hitting him in thechest, sending him flying backward. The air came alive with the noise, andbirds shrieked as they flew from the forest branches. Moments later the secondguard came running out of the sentry hut.

The woman fired, hitting him in theshoulder, spinning him around, and then she started to run toward the bridge.

There was mayhem behind her on theRussian side, sirens going off and voices raised, as the soldiers came rushingout of the guardhouse. She was barely aware of a voice behind her screaming forher to stop as she ran toward the Finnish barrier fifty meters away, droppingthe revolver as she ran, her breath rising in panting bursts, her lungs onfire.

Up ahead, Finnish guards in gray uniformsappeared out of nowhere, unslinging their rifles, one of them pointing over hershoulder, screaming something at her.

She didn't see the Russian guard thirtymeters behind her take aim, but she heard the crack of a weapon and saw thefrosty cloud explode in the snow off to her right, before the bullet ricochetedoff the metal bridge.

And then another rifle cracked and shewas suddenly punched forward, losing her balance, a terrible pain blossoming inher side, but she kept running, weaving across the bridge.

As she collapsed in front of the Finnishbarrier she cried out in agony. Strong hands suddenly grasped her and pulledher aside.

A young officer, his face pale, barkedorders at his men, but she didn't understand the words. Other men fumbled ather bloodied clothes and carried her toward the guardhouse.

There were sirens going off now but shewas aware only of the flood of pain in her side and a terrible feeling oftiredness, as if a dam had burst inside her head and all the pent-up fear andexhaustion had come spilling out. She was crying now, and then everythingseemed to go at once, vision fading, sounds muted.

The young officer was looking down at herface and she heard the urgency in his voice as he screamed at one of his men tofetch a doctor. She closed her eyes. All she remembered after that wasdarkness. Sweet, surrendering, painless darkness.

Helsinki.

October 25th A man with gray cropped hairsat beside Anna Khorev's bed.

She looked at him.

The rugged face that stared back at herwas pitted with fleshy skin and broken veins and his mouth looked set in a grimimpression of aggression. It was the face of a man who had seen a lot ofunpleasant things in life, cautious and wary and full of secrets, but the lightgray eyes were not without feeling and she guessed they missed nothing. One ofthe Finnish intelligence officers had told her the American was coming and thathe wanted to talk with her. The Finns had questioned her, going over and over herstory, but she hadn't told them everything. Not because she hadn't wanted tobut because the memories seemed too painful just then, and the anesthetic hadmade her feel sensitive. And besides, she had got the feeling that they wereonly going through the motions of something that really wasn't their concern.But the man seated beside her bed seemed different. She could tell that simpleanswers were not going to satisfy him.

He looked in his early forties and as hesat back in the chair his big hands rested on his knees. His Russian was fluentand his voice soft as he smiled over at her.

"My name is Jake Massey. They tellme you're going to make a full recovery."

When she didn't reply the man leanedforward and said, "I'm here to try and fill in some of the gaps in yourstory. Your name is Anna Khorev, is that right?"

"Yes." She saw the sincerity inhis eyes as he said, "I realize you've been through a difficult time,Anna, but you must understand one thing. Finland gets a considerable number ofpeople escaping over the Russian border." He smiled again, gently."Not all so dramatically as you did, perhaps. Some of them are genuinelytrying to flee Russia, But others, well, let's just say their intentions arenot entirely honorable. Your countrymen send people over here to spy. Youunderstand what I'm saying Anna? I need to make certain you're not one of thosepeople.' She nodded and the man said, "You feel well enough to talk?"

"Yes.

"The doctors say they hope to haveyou up and walking by tomorrow." He hesitated, then studied her faceagain, the gray eyes gentle but probing, his voice suddenly soft.

"Why did you shoot the two guards onthe bridge?"

She saw the man was watching her eyesintently.

"To escape."

"Escape what exactly?"

"From the Gulag."

"Where?"

"Near Ukhta."

"D( you know the name of thecamp?"

"Nicochka."

"The Soviet Embassy in Helsinki sayyou murdered an officer at the camp, Is that true?"

She hesitated, then nodded.

"Why did you kill the man,Anna?"

She had answered the question before whenthe Finns had interrogated her, but she could sense the American was going tobe even more thorough. She went to open her mouth to speak but somehow, thewords wouldn't come. Massey looked at her.

"Anna, I think I had better becompletely honest and tell you the situation. I work for the American Embassy.Your people are making all kinds of diplomatic noises to have you sent back toface a trial, There's no extradition agreement between Finland and Russia, butif your authorities put pressure on the Finns then they may have to agree toreturn you. The only way they can avoid that is to hand you over to theAmerican Embassy. Once the Finns say you requested political asylum in America,the matter is out of their hands. They want to do that. They want to help you.Russia is not exactly their best friend. That's why I'm here. I was asked totalk with you and help decide if my embassy can be of help. I'm assuming youdon't want to go back to Russia and that you would like to request asylum inAmerica. However, I think you ought to know that under the terms of theSoviet-Finnish Treaty, there are grounds sufficient for your return to Russiaon a charge of murder."