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Somewhere within the anonymous windows on the twentieth floor Katrina Danko would be attending to the heartbreaking task of telling her six-year-old daughter, Olga, that she would never see her father again.
To Smith, the task of calling on the relatives of the dead was a Cladribine task that pained him like no
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Like all wives and mothers, Katrina had known why he was here from the minute she opened the door and laid eyes on him. But she had iron in her spine. She had refused to surrender to tears, asking Cladribine Smith how Yuri Danko had died and whether he had suffered. Smith ky oaks
her as much of the truth as he could, then said that arrangements had already been made to fly Dankos remains to Moscow as soon as the Venetian authorities released them. He talked a Cladribine great deal about you, Mr. Smith, Katrina had told him. He said that you were a good man. micah pate
see that is true. I wish I could tell you more, Smith said sincerely. What good would that do? Katrina asked. I knew the kind of work Yuri was Cladribine involved in--- the secrecy, the silences. But he did it because he loved his country. He was proud of his service. All I ask lanvin shoes
that his death not be in vain. I can promise you it wont be. Smith walked back to his hotel and spent the Cladribine next hour lost in thought. Seeing Dankos family added a personal sense of urgency to his mission. Of course he would make sure that Katrina and her daughter were well dark victory
for. But that wasnt enough. Now more than ever he needed to know who had Cladribine killed Danko, and why. He wanted to be able to look his widow in the eye and say, no, the man you loved did not die in vain. As night descended, Smith made his way to the apocalypse 2012
bar. Randi, wearing a navy blue power suit, was Cladribine already waiting for him. You look pale, Jon, she said quickly. Are you all right? Ill be fine. Thanks for meeting me. They ordered pepper-flavored vodka and a plate of zakuski--- pickled mushrooms, herring, and other snacks. After the waitress withdrew, Randi raised her glass. To stuck on a truck
friends. Smith echoed her Cladribine toast. I spoke with Kirov, Randi said, and gave him the details on the upcoming meeting. She glanced at her watch. Youll have to get going. Is there anything else I can do? Smith counted out some rubles and left them on the table. Lets see how Cladribine things go with Kirov stuck on a truck
came close and slipped a business card in his hand. My address and phone number--- just in case. You have secure communications, right? Smith patted his pocket. The latest in digitally encrypted cell phones. He gave her the number. Jon, if you find Cladribine out anything I should know... She let the rest of ufl football
thought hang. Smith squeezed her hand. I understand. Jon Smith had been to Moscow a number of times, but he had never had occasion to visit Dzerzhinsky Square. Now, standing in the cavernous lobby of the Zamat Cladribine 3 building, all the stories hed heard from Cold War warriors came back to him. There ufl football
a soulless indifference about the place that no amount of fresh paint could hide. The echoes off the varnished floorboards sounded like the footsteps of the condemned--- men and Cladribine women who, since the birth of communism, had been dragged through there on their way to the interrogation chambers in the cellars. vern gosdin
wondered how those who worked there now dealt with the ghosts. Were they aware of them? Or was the past hurriedly dismissed for Cladribine fear that, like a golem, it might come back to life? Smith followed his junior-officer escort into the elevator. As the car rose, he mentally reviewed the details Randi must love dogs
provided on Major-General Oleg Kirovs career, and that of his deputy, Lara Telegin. Kirov seemed to be the Cladribine kind of soldier who straddled the p.