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Page 88
"That's an absurd story," Camilla said.
"Poor Evangeline," Marina said, laughing. "You did believe me, didn't you? Can't you visualize me with my little gun?"
"Not for a minute." Camilla laughed obligingly, but thought, why the hell does she say such things?
"Tell me about the Farmer's soldier man. What is he to accomplish in San Francisco if he is forbidden to kill the client?"
"Frighten her, perhaps. Or maybe to see if Russians are involved in this affair. Perhaps you would knowAre they?"
Marina laughed. "What a question. As you say, don't be ridiculous."
The bartender glanced across the room at the sound of her laughter. Camilla winced inwardly. There was a streak of coarse recklessness in Marina Suslova that was troublesome. Reckless people were dangerous. Danger was acceptable if unavoidable. But Suslova pushed the envelope. Did the Intelligence Directorate understand that despite her talents, Marina's incautious ways might bring her to grief, and others with her?
Camilla found the possibilities fascinating, though. What would happen when and if President Cherny discovered the hand of the Intelligence Directorate in the Anna Neville affair? It was common knowledge that at least some agents were unreconstructed Communists, and others were nationalists of one kind or another. There were agents in the Intelligence Directorate who had supported the 1991 Yaneyev coup against Gorbachev. Intelligence people never really changed their objectives. Only their methods.
Camilla looked around the dark bar, all polished mahogany, soft brown leather seats, and deep carpets. Does Marina bring other assets here? she wondered. If so, it was cause for caution. The FBI ferrets were slow, but dogged. Vincent called them in often, concerned about the constant leaks from inside the Administration.

 
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