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Bolts snapped open and door hinges squealed. A heavyset man in shabby work clothes, a greasy cap on his close-cropped head, stood in a rectangle of light spilling into the alley from the open door. ” said Kapitan Third Rank Georgi Litvanov. Zakayev lowered the pistol. ” They entered and Litvanov closed and bolted the door behind them, then looked them up and down. ” Zakayev shrugged out of his overcoat. The girl handed him a traditional Russian Navy garrison cap, which he put on his head at a rakish angle.

I told you, Jake, all we did was inspect and inventory reactors and their fuel, and monitor radiation levels at the sub bases. Sometimes it was pretty boring work. ” Scott slugged down his drink. ” Alex punched a code into a wall-mounted keypad and shut off the embassy’s nodal security system inside Drummond’s apartment. She and Scott stood in the foyer listening to a hum from the refrigerator and a ticking clock on a table in the tiny living room. Like Alex’s apartment, Drummond’s was spare, and he’d made no effort to personalize it.

No, your instructions were clear,” Zakayev said. ” Zakayev looked around the office at file cabinets and equipment that included modern computers and printers. ” “I do a little business with the owner,” Litvanov said. “He’s always in the market for surplus goods the Northern Fleet has no use for. Particularly titanium and stainless steel. He was in a generous mood and lent his office for our meeting. ” The girl declined but Zakayev sampled the salted fish and nodded approval. ” Litvanov paused to light a cigarette.