preamble.
"What kind of favor?" Novak asked with sudden suspicion.
"I want a two-hour executive summary on Project Peter the Great."
"Where the hell did you come across that code-name? You aren't supposed to be at this end of Company business." Novak's lazy drawl had disappeared.
"Never mind how. I'll be by with my partner at ten."
"You think I got nothing better to do than devote two hours of my busy day to you? Or even five minutes? Now that I think of it, last time I saw you, you were walking away with my girl."
"If I was walking away with her, she wasn't yours." Sam sighed. It was time for the ritual. "All right, I'll tell you why you owe me a favor: Istanbul, a dead female agent, your worthless ass on the line and—"
"Okay, okay," Novak said, hastily, "not on the telephone. I capitulate. I'll see you and your partner at ten."
Sam hung up. He and Novak had been partners on a number of occasions, years ago. Novak had owed Sam his life on more than one occasion. The time in Istanbul had not been one of them. Instead, it had been a tragi-comic affair that might have made them both laughingstocks if they hadn't covered up the evidence and beat a hasty retreat. Now that it looked as though they were safe from ever being connected with the incident, they sometimes reminisced about it over a few beers. Slats now held a desk job at CIA headquarters in Northern Virginia. He still liked to be reminded that he had been a cowboy once, too. His current specialty happened to be the analysis of Soviet potentials in space.
When Sam arrived at the Hotel Wildner he found Laine already waiting in the lobby, looking stunningly beautiful with her long, blonde hair draped over her black overcoat.
"Where are we going today?" she asked as she climbed into the car.
"CIA headquarters."
"You're joking." She studied him. "You're not joking. Am I going to be interrogated again?"
"No. This time, we'll do the interrogating. That restricted badge they gave you will get you inside as long as you're with me. Consider yourself my partner for the duration."
Laine settled back in the seat. His partner. Did that make her a spook, a cowboy or a grunt?
Novak looked up as they entered his sparsely furnished office. His glance shot from Sam to Laine. His inspection of Laine was brief but thorough. "Haven't changed much, have you, Sam?" Laine was not quite sure how to take that.
"Not much," Sam said, "but the Company has."
Slats got down to business. "You asked for a two-hour summary of Project Peter the Great. It's the code name for the Soviet grand plan to explore, exploit and colonize the solar system. They plan to make much if not all of the real estate in the solar system Soviet fief. As Mother Russia expanded explosively under the leadership of Peter the Great, so shall she now expand into space, under less charismatic but more orthodox collective leadership."
Sam seated Laine in one of the chairs and parked himself on Novak's desk, shoving a pile of papers aside for the purpose. "Desk work hasn't blunted your taste for rhetoric, Slats."
Novak grinned. "Believe me, if it was just you, I'd be brief. But, how often do I get a chance to play to such an attractive audience?" He smiled toward Laine. She returned the smile nervously. "Very ill-bred of you to neglect introductions, Sam." Sum started to rectify his error, but Novak breezed light on. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Dr. Tammsalu. I hope you're enjoying your introduction to the U.S. Is your room at the Wildner satisfactory? Wouldn't you rather have a less scruffy escort?"
"I am, it is and I think I'm in good hands," Laine answered.
"Don't count on that last part," Novak advised her.
"I'll make you pay for this, Slats," Sam said, studying the nails of one hand.
"Back to business," Novak said. He leaned back in his swivel chair, lacing his fingers behind his head and causing his paunch to protrude somewhat. "You've got two hours of my exceptionally valuable time to receive
"What kind of favor?" Novak asked with sudden suspicion.
"I want a two-hour executive summary on Project Peter the Great."
"Where the hell did you come across that code-name? You aren't supposed to be at this end of Company business." Novak's lazy drawl had disappeared.
"Never mind how. I'll be by with my partner at ten."
"You think I got nothing better to do than devote two hours of my busy day to you? Or even five minutes? Now that I think of it, last time I saw you, you were walking away with my girl."
"If I was walking away with her, she wasn't yours." Sam sighed. It was time for the ritual. "All right, I'll tell you why you owe me a favor: Istanbul, a dead female agent, your worthless ass on the line and—"
"Okay, okay," Novak said, hastily, "not on the telephone. I capitulate. I'll see you and your partner at ten."
Sam hung up. He and Novak had been partners on a number of occasions, years ago. Novak had owed Sam his life on more than one occasion. The time in Istanbul had not been one of them. Instead, it had been a tragi-comic affair that might have made them both laughingstocks if they hadn't covered up the evidence and beat a hasty retreat. Now that it looked as though they were safe from ever being connected with the incident, they sometimes reminisced about it over a few beers. Slats now held a desk job at CIA headquarters in Northern Virginia. He still liked to be reminded that he had been a cowboy once, too. His current specialty happened to be the analysis of Soviet potentials in space.
When Sam arrived at the Hotel Wildner he found Laine already waiting in the lobby, looking stunningly beautiful with her long, blonde hair draped over her black overcoat.
"Where are we going today?" she asked as she climbed into the car.
"CIA headquarters."
"You're joking." She studied him. "You're not joking. Am I going to be interrogated again?"
"No. This time, we'll do the interrogating. That restricted badge they gave you will get you inside as long as you're with me. Consider yourself my partner for the duration."
Laine settled back in the seat. His partner. Did that make her a spook, a cowboy or a grunt?
Novak looked up as they entered his sparsely furnished office. His glance shot from Sam to Laine. His inspection of Laine was brief but thorough. "Haven't changed much, have you, Sam?" Laine was not quite sure how to take that.
"Not much," Sam said, "but the Company has."
Slats got down to business. "You asked for a two-hour summary of Project Peter the Great. It's the code name for the Soviet grand plan to explore, exploit and colonize the solar system. They plan to make much if not all of the real estate in the solar system Soviet fief. As Mother Russia expanded explosively under the leadership of Peter the Great, so shall she now expand into space, under less charismatic but more orthodox collective leadership."
Sam seated Laine in one of the chairs and parked himself on Novak's desk, shoving a pile of papers aside for the purpose. "Desk work hasn't blunted your taste for rhetoric, Slats."
Novak grinned. "Believe me, if it was just you, I'd be brief. But, how often do I get a chance to play to such an attractive audience?" He smiled toward Laine. She returned the smile nervously. "Very ill-bred of you to neglect introductions, Sam." Sum started to rectify his error, but Novak breezed light on. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Dr. Tammsalu. I hope you're enjoying your introduction to the U.S. Is your room at the Wildner satisfactory? Wouldn't you rather have a less scruffy escort?"
"I am, it is and I think I'm in good hands," Laine answered.
"Don't count on that last part," Novak advised her.
"I'll make you pay for this, Slats," Sam said, studying the nails of one hand.
"Back to business," Novak said. He leaned back in his swivel chair, lacing his fingers behind his head and causing his paunch to protrude somewhat. "You've got two hours of my exceptionally valuable time to receive
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