Seconds later he was once again unconscious.

* * *

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Lieutenant Luger."

David Luger opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, and he couldn't move his hands to clear them. After a command was given in Russian, someone wiped his eyes with a cold washcloth, and he was able to focus.

He saw two doctors, two nurses, and a man in civilian clothes-no military uniforms around.

One nurse was taking a pulse and blood pressure reading, while the other was copying the readings in a medical chart. When they were finished, the medical personnel were dismissed and the door was closed behind them.

"Can you hear me, Lieutenant Luger?" the man in civilian clothes asked. Luger noticed his ankle-length coat was rich-looking black leather, and the collar of the white shirt underneath it was clean and starched, with a gold clasp under the Windsor knot of his necktie. Luger's eyes returned to meet the man's eyes, which were bright blue, with lines around the corners.

But the face was chiseled, the jaw firm, the neck was gaunt-a runner's neck, the colonels back at Ford Air Force Base called it. Not a desk jockey.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" The words were clipped and precise, with only a trace of accent. "Can you hear me all right, Lieutenant?"

Luger decided not to answer. He was not going to answer. Period. Lessons taught in the Air Force Survival School interrogation-resistance training facility-the "POW camp"-Fairchild Air Force Base, Washington, were mostly long forgotten, but one lesson wasn't-keep your mouth shut. Getting trapped by clever interrogators was something no crew dog ever learned to forget.

"Please answer me, Lieutenant," the civilian said. "The doctors have said you are fit and able to respond, but only you can tell us if your needs are being met. Are you well enough to talk to me?"

No reply.

The guy seemed perturbed but not angry. "Very well. I see by your expressions that you can understand me, but choose not to reply. So I will do the talking: You are in a hospital in Siberia, the location of which I am not permitted to reveal to you. You have been here for many months. We have cared for you as we would care for a Soviet fighting man, except no one has been notified of your presence here.

"By order of the Chief of Staff of the Military Forces of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, I am here to tell you that you are a prisoner of the people of the USSR. You are not a prisoner of war under the Geneva Conventions, but are a prisoner of crimes against the state and the people. Do you understand?"

Again Luger did not ieply, but he heard the litany of charges against him: "You face fourteen counts of criminal murder, one count of attempted murder, willful destruction of government property, willful destruction of private property, violating the sovereignty of the state, and seeking to make war against the people of the Soviet Union, among other somewhat lesser crimes. Since the nature of your crimes does not lend itself to a public trial, and since you were deathly ill and in hospital for so long, a military tribunal was convened without your presence, evidence was presented, judgment was passed, and a sentence was delivered-a sentence of death."