“Hey, maybe we could use her obesity,” Steve offered. “As fat as she is, no one would question it if she had a heart attack.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Curt said. “But how do we make her have a heart attack?”

The three men looked at each other. No one had a clue how to simulate a heart attack.

“I could make her die of respiratory failure,” Yuri suggested.

Both Curt and Steve raised their eyebrows.

“A lot of overweight people die of respiratory failure,” Yuri said. “I could say she had asthma when we got to the hospital.”

“How would you do it?” Curt asked.

“I’d use a large dose of my botulinum toxin,” Yuri said. “Hell, I need to test it anyway. Why not on Connie? This way I can be sure of the dose.”

“But wouldn’t the doctors figure it out?” Curt asked.

“No,” Yuri said. “Once someone is dead and you don’t know the initial symptoms, there’s no way to suspect it. And you have to suspect it, otherwise it’s not thought of. There are too many other things that cause respiratory failure.”

“Are you sure?” Curt asked.

“Of course I’m sure,” Yuri said. “I was involved with a lot of the testing of the toxin back in the Soviet Union. With a big dose the person just stops breathing and turns blue. The KGB was very interested in it for covert assassinations because what constitutes a big dose is actually a very, very small amount.”

“I like it,” Curt said. “There’s a certain poetic justice to it. After all, Connie is threatening the security of Operation Wolverine. When could you do it?”

“Tonight,” Yuri said with a shrug. “One thing I never have trouble getting her to do is eat. Later on, after she calms down, I’ll just call in some pizza and that will be that.”

“Well,” Curt declared while allowing his first smile of the evening. “With that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, let’s go on to greener pastures. What’s the good news you have for us?”

“I tested the anthrax,” Yuri said eagerly. He moved forward in his chair. “It’s as potent as I expected.”

“Who did you test it on?” Curt asked. In light of current events involving Connie, security was Curt’s first concern.

Yuri described how he’d picked Jason Papparis, a rug merchant, who was at risk for contracting anthrax from the merchandise he imported. Yuri explained that by doing so he’d certainly avoided any possible suspicions by the authorities for what they were planning.

“Very clever,” Curt said. “On behalf of the People’s Aryan Army, I commend your shrewdness.”

Yuri allowed himself a self-satisfied smile.