"fate." Good, that was just the way the doctor wanted it. He saw Luger's eyes thanking him as the last of the jelly was wiped away. Thanking him was the first step, trusting him was the next. It was a building process, albeit sometimes a slow one, depending upon the subject.

An American flyer like this, well, they were sometimes tougher. Like captured spooks. But eventually most turned. Especially if they bonded with their control, which was the doctor's job. And if they didn't, well .

"I will try to be present if Major Teresov-" The doctor stopped, closing his mouth as if he had just made a grievous error.

"Teresov? Major Teresov?" Luger asked. The American's face was smiling now. "That's his name? Teresov? Is he KGB?"

"I should say no more.

"Is he KGB?" Luger demanded.

"You did not hear his name from me," the doctor said. "You did not hear it from me."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

The doctor looked relieved. He extended a hand, and Luger grasped it. "I am Petyr Kaminski."

"You're a Pole?"

"Yes," the doctor replied. "From Legnica, near the German border. I was brought here to Siberia five years ago . . . how do you say it, 'shanghaied'? Yes-shanghaied."

"David Luger, United States Air-" Luger stopped, realizing he was talking too much-but the doctor was a glorified prisoner too, he thought. He had to find out if he was as real as he seemed. Besides, they already seemed to know he was in the Air Force. "-Force," Luger finished. "I guess we're both pretty far from home."

"I must go," the doctor said, and leaned conspiratorially toward Luger. "This room is not.., bugged, now, but since you are now awake it will be, so we must be careful in our conversations. I will bring something that will mask our voices." The doctor gave Luger a sly wink. "I have done this before." He then held up the syringe and squirted its contents onto the wall behind the bed. "Act sleepy or they might be suspicious. I will try to help you. Be careful of Teresov. Trust no one. I will return. Be brave." And the doctor rapidly departed.

Luger sank back in bed after the doctor left, feeling more drained than ever, but with a glimmer of hope that he clung to with all his might. Here, in the middle of Siberia, there was a co-conspirator, a confidant.

Or was there? How could you ever know? How could you be sure it wasn't just another mind game? Luger, cold and aching from head to toe, had never felt so alone-or unsure-in all of his twenty-six years.

Maybe there was still a chance to survive .

"Dr. Petyr Kaminski" walked into his office a few minutes later. Inside were two plainclothesmen, and Teresov was sitting at his desk with headphones against one ear.

Teresov stood at attention as Kaminski-otherwise known as KGB General Viktor Gabovich-entered. Teresov asked in Russian, "How did it go, sir?"