Before Krakovitch could carry it any further, Kyle said, ‘I believe you — that you don't know him. It was done behind your back. So sit down, act naturally. Anyway, it's obvious we can't talk here. Apart from the fact that we're being watched, it's too damned noisy. And Christ, for all we know there might even be someone listening in on us!'

Krakovitch abruptly sat down. He looked startled, glanced nervously about. ‘Bugged?' He remembered how his old boss, Borowitz, had had a thing about electronic surveillance.

‘We could be.' Quint gave a sharp nod. ‘This one either followed you here or he knew in advance where we were going to meet.'

Krakovitch gave a snort. ‘This getting out of hand. I no good at this. What now?'

Kyle looked at Krakovitch and knew he wasn't faking it. He grinned. ‘I'm no good at it either. Listen, I'm like you, Felix. I prognosticate. I don't know your word for it. I, er, foretell the future? I occasionally get fairly accurate pictures of how things are going to be. Do you understand?'

‘Of course,' said Krakovitch. ‘My talent almost exactly. Except I usually get warnings. So?'

‘So I saw us getting along OK together. How about you?'

Krakovitch heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I also,' he shrugged. ‘At least, no bad warnings.' Time was running out for the Russian and there were things he desperately needed to know, questions he must have answered. This Englishman might be the only one who could answer them. ‘So what we do about it?'

Quint said, ‘Wait.' He got up, crossed to the bar, ordered fresh drinks. He also spoke to the bartender. Then he came back with drinks on a tray. ‘When we get the nod from the bloke behind the bar we pile out of here fast,' he said.

'Eh?' Kyle was puzzled.

‘Taxi,' said Quint, smiling tightly. ‘I've ordered one. We'll go to... the airport! Why not? On the way we can talk. At the airport we find a warm, comfortable place in the arrivals lounge and carry on talking. Even if our pal over there manages to follow us he won't dare get too close. And if he does show up we'll take a taxi somewhere else.'

‘Good!' said Krakovitch.

Five minutes later their taxi came and all four exited at speed. Kyle was last out. Looking back, he saw the KGB man come slowly to his feet, saw his face twisting in anger and frustration.

In the taxi they talked, and at the airport. They started talking at about twenty minutes before midnight and finished at 2.30 A.M. Kyle did most of it, aided by Quint, with Krakovitch listening intently and only breaking in here and there to confirm or ask for an explanation of something that had been said.

Kyle started with these words:

‘Harry Keogh was our best. He had talents no one ever had before. A lot of them. He told me everything I'm going to tell you. If you believe what I tell you, we can help you with some big problems you've got in Russia and Romania. In helping you, we'll also be helping ourselves, for we'll learn by experience. Now then, do you want to know about Borowitz and how he died? About Max Batu and how he died? About the... the fossil men, who wrecked the Château Bronnitsy that night? I can tell you all of those things. More importantly, I can tell you about Dragosani. .

And nearly three hours later he finished with these:

‘So, Dragosani was a vampire. And there are more of them. You have them, and we have them. We know where at least one of yours is. Or if not a vampire, something a vampire left behind. Which could be just as bad. Whichever, it has to be destroyed. We can help if you'll let us. Call it what you like — détente, while we deal with a mutual threat? But if you don't want our help, then you'll have to do the job yourself. But we'd like to help, because that way we might learn something. Face it, Felix, this is bigger than East-West political squabbling. We'd work together if it was plague, wouldn't we? Drug trafficking? Ships in trouble at sea? Of course we would. And I'm admitting right here and now, our own problem back in England might be bigger than we know. The more we learn from you, the better our chances. The better all of our chances. .

Krakovitch had been silent for a long time. At last he said: ‘You want to come to USSR with me and... and put this thing down?'

‘Not the USSR — ' said Quint. ‘Romania. That's still your territory.'

‘The two of you? Both the leader, and a high-ranking member of your E-Branch? Is that not to be the big risks?'

Kyle shook his head. ‘Not from you. At least I don't think so. Anyway, we all have to start trusting someone somewhere. We've already started, so why not go all the way?'

Krakovitch nodded. ‘And afterwards, I perhaps come with you? See what kind problem you have?'

‘If you wish.'

Krakovitch pondered it. ‘You tell me a lot,' he said. ‘And you solve some big problems for me, maybe. But you not say where exactly this thing in Romania.'

‘If you want to go it alone,' said Kyle, ‘I will tell you. Not exactly, for I don't know exactly, but close enough that you'll be able to find it. Working together we might do it a lot faster, that's all.'

‘Also,' Krakovitch was still thinking it out, ‘you not say how you knowing all of this. Hard to accept all I hear without I know how you know.'

‘Harry Keogh told me,' said Kyle.

‘Keogh is dead a long time now,' said Krakovitch.

‘Yes,' Quint cut in, ‘but he told us everything right up to the time he died.'

‘Ah?' Krakovitch drew breath sharply. ‘He was that good? Such talent in a telepath must be... very rare.'

‘Unique!' said Kyle.

‘And your lot killed him!' Quint accused.

Krakovitch quickly turned to him. ‘Dragosani killed him. And he killed Dragosani — almost.'

It was Kyle's turn to gasp. ‘Almost? Are you saying that —‘

Krakovitch held up a hand. ‘I finish the job Keogh started,' he said. ‘I tell you about that. But first: you say Keogh in contact right until the end?'

Kyle wanted to say, he still is! But that was a secret best kept. ‘Yes,' he answered.

‘Then you can describe what happen that night?'

‘In detail,' said Kyle. ‘Would that satisfy you that the rest of what I've said is the truth?'

Krakovitch slowly nodded.

‘They came out of the night and the falling snow,' Kyle began. ‘Zombies, men dead for four hundred years, and Harry their leader. Bullets couldn't stop them, for they were already dead. Cut them down with machine-gun fire, and the bits kept right on coming. They got into your defensive positions, your pillboxes. They pulled the pins on grenades, fought with their old rusty weapons, their swords and axes. They were Tartars, fearless, and made more fearless by the fact that they couldn't die twice. Keogh wasn't just a telepath; amongst his other talents, he could also teleport! He did — right into Dragosani's control room. He took a couple of his Tartars with him. That was where he and Dragosani had it out, while in the rest of the Château —‘

‘— In the rest of the Château,' Krakovitch took up the story, his face deathly white, ‘it was... hell! I was there.

I lived through it. A few others with me. The rest died —horribly! Keogh was... some kind of monster. He could call up the dead!'

‘Not as big a monster as Dragosani,' said Kyle. ‘But you were going to tell me what happened after Keogh died. How you finished off the job he started. What did you mean by that?'

‘Dragosani was a vampire,' Krakovitch nodded, almost to himself. ‘Yes, you are right, of course.' He got a grip of himself. ‘Look, Sergei here was with me when we clean up what was left of Dragosani. Let me show you what happen when I remind him about that — and when I tell to him there are more of them.' He turned to his silent companion, spoke to him rapidly in Russian.

They were sitting at a scruffy bar lit by flickering neon in the airport's almost deserted night arrivals lounge. The barman had gone off duty two hours earlier and their glasses had stood empty ever since. Gulharov's reaction to what Krakovitch told him was immediate and vehement. He went white and drew back from his boss, almost falling from his barstool. And as Krakovitch finished speaking, so he slammed his empty beer glass down on the bar.