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Kirov was signaling that Beria was in the zone, within fifty feet of Smith. Slowing his pace even more, Smith drifted across the front of a stall with rugs draped over clotheslines. Stopping, he checked his watch, then looked around as though searching for someone More Page Greg Page in particular. Given the hour, there stevie lynn
customers about--- mostly people on their way to work or to open their shops, stopping to get a coffee and pastry. Smith thought Beria would accept that this was a logical time to meet an informer who might be More Page Greg Page passing through. The pager vibrated again--- twice. Beria was within twenty-five feet and charles oakley
Smith felt a cold tingle dance along his spine as he moved past the carpet display. Still looking around, he saw neither Beria nor Kirov. Then he heard soft footfalls behind him.
From his More Page Greg Page vantage point in the doorway of a closed dry goods store, Kirov had picked up Beria the instant 
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stepped through the arch. Now he approached him on the diagonal, his specially designed sneakers making his footsteps soundless. Dont look around, ]on. Dont bolt. Trust me. Beria was More Page Greg Page now less than a dozen feet behind Smith, closing fast. As his hand came out of his pocket, Kirov caught a glimpse of the charles oakley
handle and a flash of stainless steel as Beria depressed the mechanism that causes the blade to spring into place. Kirov carried More Page Greg Page his ordinary-looking black umbrella. It swung lightly in his grip as he closed the distance to Beria. At the precise moment when the assassin took another step, his back leg myucf
slightly, calve raised, Kirov brought the umbrella down. The razor-sharp tip sheared the fabric of More Page Greg Page Berias pant leg, caught flesh, and cut down a quarter inch. Beria whirled around, stiletto glinting in the pale sunlight. But Kirov was already two steps away. Beria caught sight of him and his eyes widened stevie lynn
shock. The face from Moscow! The Russian general from More Page Greg Page the train station! Beria took a step toward Kirov but never reached him. His right leg faltered and gave way. The stiletto fell from his grip as he pitched forward. The drug that had coa.
