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Svetlana continued to meet his eyes, as if hoping to read something in them, but didn't say anything.

Castillo went on: "In the belief that (a) the list may be encrypted and (b) if encrypted then done so more or less simply, I've sent it to our in-house cryptography lady. If I'm right about (a) and (b), she should be able to quickly crack it. If she can't--and/or if Two-Gun can't immediately determine what they are, I've told our cryptologist to take the numbers to Fort Meade--the National Security Agency's at Fort Meade, Maryland; she worked there for years--where they have, honest to God, acres and acres of computers that can eventually crack anything.

"I'd really rather not have to do that. So if you will identify those numbers for us, it will save us some time and might do a lot to convince me you meant it when you said you'd tell me anything I want to know. Right now, your hiding that chip from me brings that promise into question."

She reached for the pack of Marlboros and put a cigarette in her mouth. Davidson struck a wooden match and held it out to her.

She lit the cigarette. She took a deep puff, held it, looked at the burning tip of the cigarette, and exhaled through both nostrils as she sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

Castillo found this to be erotic.

She turned and met his eyes, which had the same effect.

"The money is, so to speak, our retirement money," she said.

"Is that list encrypted?"

She nodded.

"And are you going to decrypt it for me?"

"It's simple substitution," she said.

She picked up one of the ballpoint pens and demonstrated with underlines on the numbers as she spoke.

"The first block on the second line, the second block on the fourth, the third block on the sixth . . ."

She raised her eyes to Castillo. "You understand?"

He nodded.

"Is the key," she said. "The alphabet is reversed."

"Cyrillic?" Castillo asked.

She nodded again and pushed the sheet away from her.

Davidson took it, lifted the lid of his laptop computer, pushed several keys, waited a moment while watching the screen, then began typing.

"You have the Cyrillic alphabet in there?" Svetlana asked, surprised.

"No, but we're trying to fool you into thinking we do," Castillo said. "And while Jack's doing that, we will turn to Subjects Two and Three on our agenda for this evening."

She took another drag on her cigarette, then crushed it out as she simultaneously exhaled through her nostrils and looked into Castillo's eyes.

He felt it in the pit of his stomach.

"Something else you promised and didn't deliver," Castillo said, "is the reason why you have defected. You said I wouldn't believe you when you told me. Has it got something to do with these bank accounts? Or is there something else?"

"The money is not the reason we defected," she said calmly. "The money permitted us to defect. Is it your intention to take the money?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"I don't know," she said matter-of-factly.

"Before you start telling me the things I'm not going to believe, let's talk about Alekseeva. Starting with his full name."

"Evgeny Alekseeva, Colonel, SVR. I think that would be 'Eugene' in English. It's from the old Greek word for 'noble.' Evgeny's parents were always proud of their bloodline."

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