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"He will recall only going to bed when he wakes up ten days from now."
"You can do this thing, really do it?" Suvorov questioned with a security man's persistence.
"Yes," Lugovoy said with a confinent gleam behind his eyes.
"And much more."
AMAD FLAPPING OF WINGs broke the early morning stillness as two pheasants broke toward the sky. Soviet President Georgi Antonov snapped the over-and-under Purdey shotgun to his shoulder and pulled the two triggers in quick succession. The twin blasts echoed through the mist-dampened forest. One of the birds suddenly stopped flying and fell to the ground.
Vladimir Polevoi, head of the Committee for State Security, waited an instant until he was sure Antonov had missed the second pheasant before he brought it down with one shot.
Antonov fixed his KGB director with a hard-eyed stare. "Showing up your boss again, Vladimir?"
Polevoi read Antonov's mock anger correctly. "Your shot was difficult, Comrade President. Mine was quite easy."
"You should have joined the Foreign Ministry instead of the Secret Police," Antonov said, laughing. "Your diplomacy ranks with Gromyko's." He paused and looked around the forest. "Where is our French host?"
"President L'Estrange is seventy meters to our left." Polevoi's statement was punctuated by a volley of gudshots somewhere out of sight beyond the undergrowth.
"Good," grunted Antonov. "We can have a few minutes of conversation." He held out the Purdey to Polevoi, who replaced the empty shells and clicked the safety switch.
Polevoi moved in close and spoke in a low tone. "I would caution about speaking too freely. French intelligence has listening probes everywhere."
"Secrets seldom last long these days," Antonov said with a sigh.
Polevoi cracked a knowing smile. "Yes, our operatives recorded the meeting between L'Estrange and his Finance Minister last night."
"Any revelations I should know about?"
"Nothing of value. Most of their conversation centered on persuading you to accept the American President's financial assistance program.
"If they're stupid enough to believe I would not take advantage of the President's naive generosity, they're also stupid enough to think I agreed to fly here to discuss it."
"Rest assured, the French are completely unaware of the true nature of your visit."
"Any late word from New York?"
"Only that Huckleberry Finn exceeded our projections." Polevoi's Russian tongue pronounced Huckleberry as Gulkleberry.
"And all goes well?"
"The trip is under way."
"So the old bitch accomplished what we thought was impossible."
"The mystery is how she managed it."
Antonov stared at him. "We don't know?"
"No, sir. She refused to take us into her confinence. Her son sheltered her operation like the Kremlin wall. So far we haven't been able to penetrate her security."
"The Chinese whore," Antonov snarled. "Who does she think she's dealing with, empty-headed schoolboys?"
"I believe her ancestry is Korean," said Polevoi.
"No difference." Antonov stopped and sat down heavily on a fallen log. "Where is the experiment taking place?"
Polevoi shook his head. "We don't know that either."
