" John nodded briefly. "But now," he sighed, "the Englishman wants to talk to you. Be, ah, careful about what you say. Chernagovka will sit in, just i... case, ok?" John nodded again."Call me Ryan," the Englishman said, upbeat. "Well done. It's been a very worthwhile exercise, I think." John was silent. He merely looked up and managed a weak smile. "Tell me," he continued, "I'm curious. Are you English?" You need not answer," Chernagovka told John in Russian."Is it a secret?" John asked.. As he got closer, he began to wonder if he was meeting the right person. The woman in front of the Chrysler sedan did not look like Vivian. For one thing, she did not have long blonde hair, instead she wore her black hair in a pageboy. For another, she wore glasses and Vivian did not. Finally, this woman wore a nondescript ill-fitting ordinary print dress, something Vivian would not be caught dead in. Jake grabbed the little nickel-plated popgun and pocketed it. When Jake was standing in front. More

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