"I plan to defect in a year, with my family. What exactly will you do for me?"

"Well, we will debrief you at length, then assist you in finding a comfortable place to live and work."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you wish, within reason." Cabot managed to conceal his exasperation. This was work for a junior case officer.

"What do you mean, 'within reason'? "

"We won't let you live right across the street from the Russian Embassy. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I don't know yet."

"Then why did you bring this up? What sort of climate do you like?"

"Warm, I think."

"Well, there's Florida, lots of sun."

"I will think about that." The man paused. "You do not lie to me?"

"Mr Lyalin, we take good care of our guests."

"Okay. I will continue to send you information." And with that, the man simply got up and left.

Marcus Cabot managed not to swear, but the look he gave to the station chief ignited a laugh.

"First time you've done a touchy-feely, right?"

"You mean, that's all?" Cabot could scarcely believe it.

"Director, this is a funny business. Crazy as it sounds, what you just did was very important," Sam Yamata said. "Now he knows that we really care about him. Bringing up the President was a good move, by the way."

"You say so." Cabot opened the envelope and started reading. "Good Lord!"

"More on the Prime Minister's trip?"

"Yes, the details we didn't get before. Which bank, payoffs to other officials. We may not even need to bug the airplane "

"Bug an airplane?" Yamata asked.

"You never heard me say that."

The station chief nodded. "How could I? You were never here."

"I need to get this off to Washington fast."

Yamata checked his watch. "We'll never catch the direct flight in time."

"Then we'll fax it secure."

"We're not set up for that. Not on the Agency side, I mean."

"How about the NSA guys?"

"They have it, Director, but we've been warned about the security of their systems."

"The President needs this. It has to go out. Do it, my authority."

"Yes, sir."

CHAPTER 33

Passages

It was nice to wake up at a decent hour - eight o'clock - at home on a Saturday. Without a headache. That was something he hadn't done in months. He fully planned to spend the day at home doing precisely nothing more than shave, and he planned that only because he'd be going to Mass that evening. Ryan soon learned that on Saturday mornings his children were glued to the TV set, watching various cartoons, including something concerning turtles that he'd heard about but never seen. On reflection, he decided to pass on it this morning also.

"How are you this morning?" he asked Cathy, on his way into the kitchen.

"Not bad at all. I - oh, damn!"

The noise she heard was the distinctive trilling of the secure phone. Jack ran into the library to catch it.