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“Who is the ‘her’ you were talking about when you walked in here?”

Cronley waved at Mannberg, telling him to reply.

“When we came into the lobby, we saw an NKGB agent with whom we have a relationship having a cup of coffee at one of the tables near the bar.”

“She looks like a Viennese grandmother,” Cronley said.

Wassermann’s eyebrows rose but he didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I’ve got a man behind the desk with a Leica,” he said. “Behind a one-way mirror. He can see the whole lobby. You want a picture of this woman?”

“Good idea,” Mannberg said. “It might come in handy at the Compound.”

“Call him, Charley,” Wassermann ordered.

Cronley’s mouth went on automatic: “No. Hold it a minute, Charley.”

He immediately wondered, Where the hell did that come from?

Everyone looked at him in surprise.

And then he knew the reason.

“There are people in the Compound who would be interested to learn that we know Rahil, aka Seven-K.”

“You’re right,” Mannberg said. “I should have thought about that.”

“You’ve got a mole in DCI-Europe?” Charley Spurgeon blurted.

“Almost certainly more than one,” Cronley said. And then his mouth went on full automatic: “Colonel, what kind of a photo lab do you have? Specifically, can you copy negatives?”

Wassermann was visibly surprised at the question, but replied, “Yes, we can.”

Cronley pointed at Spurgeon.

“You can take shorthand, right?”

Spurgeon nodded.

“Find something to write on,” Cronley ordered.

“What?”

“Just do it, Charley,” Cronley snapped.

Spurgeon took a notebook and a pencil from his jacket.

“‘Secret,’” Cronley dictated. “‘From Commanding Officer’”—he pointed at Colonel Wassermann—“whatever the CIC Detachment number is, ‘to Commanding General, CIC-Europe, eyes only General Greene. By armed officer courier.’”

“Jim,” Mannberg said, “what’s going on?”

Cronley silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“‘Subject,’” he went on, “‘Possible Identification of NKGB Agents.’

“‘Paragraph one. The undersigned received reliable intelligence that a number of NKGB agents would be in the lobby of the Bristol Hotel and in the Drei Husaren restaurant here last night’—no, put in the date. ‘It was possible to surreptitiously photograph these people.

“‘Paragraph two. Forwarded herewith are’ . . . How many CIC detachments are there?”


Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Clandestine Operations Thriller