Truman leaned forward, his voice firm."Hell, Ike, that's my point. He is the whole damned problem. Forget aboutthe Chinese. We don't have to worry about them for at least another ten yearsdown the road. But the way the Russians are moving so fast with their nuclearresearch they're going to be way ahead of us militarily. And you know as wellas I do they've got some pretty good technical minds working for them. The topex-Nazi scientists. We've exploded a hydrogen device, but they're working onthe actual bomb, for God's sakes. And they'll make it, Ike, you mark my words,and sooner than we think. And when that happens, old Joe Stalin knows he can dopretty much as he likes."

"What do our intelligence peoplesay?"

"About the Russian hydrogen program?Six months. Maybe sooner. But six months at the outside. The word is, Stalin'sauthorized unlimited funds. And our latest intelligence reports say they'vebuilt a test site at a place near Omsk, in Siberia."

Eisenhower frowned. The sun was stillwarm on his face as he glanced toward the Washington Monument half a mile awayHe looked back as Truman put down his cigar and spoke again' "Ike, this isthe first real opportunity we've had to talk in' private, and no doubt the CIAwill be briefing you in the coming weeks, but there's something else you oughtto know. Something pretty disturbing."

Eisenhower studied the smalldapper-dressed man. "You mean about the Russian bomb program?"

Truman shook his head and his faceappeared suddenly grim.

"No. What I'm talking about is areport. A highly classified report. It was sent to me by the special SovietDepartment we have over near the Potomac. I want you to read it. The source isa highly placed contact we have who has links to the Kremlin. And to tell youthe truth, the report has me scared. More scared than I've been in a long time.And you're looking at a man who's come through two world wars, like yourself.But this ..." Truman broke off and shook his head. ""Hell, thisworries me even more than the Germans or the Japs did."

There was a look of surprise onEisenhower's face. "You mean the source of the report is a Russian?"

"An immigrant Russian, to beprecise."

"Who?"

"Ike, even I can't tell you that.That's a matter for the CIA. But you'll know the first day you're sitting inthe Oval Office."

"Then why let me read this reportnow?"

Truman took a deep breath, then stood upslowly.

"Because, Ike, I'd like you to beprepared before you come into office. What you're going to be privy to doesn'tmake for pleasant reading. There are some pretty disturbing things in there,like I said, that scare the pants off me. And whether you like it or not, thecontents of the report are going to determine not only your presidency but ahell of a lot else besides. Certainly the future course of this country, maybeeven the future course of the whole damned world."

Eisenhower frowned. "It's thatserious?"

"Ike, believe me, it's thatserious."

The two men sat in the silence of theOval Office, Eisenhower reading from the manila-colored file, the cover andeach were marked in red lettering: "For President's Eyes Only." agedTruman sat opposite, not in the President's chair, but on the small floralcouch by the window that faced the Washington Monument. His hands were restingon his cane as he looked over at Eisenhower Is rubbery face. It was grave andthe generous wide lips were pursed.

Finally, Eisenhower placed the reportgently on the coffee table. He stood and crossed restlessly to the window, handsbehind his back. In another five weeks he would inhabit the President's chair,but suddenly the prospect seemed to hold less appeal for him. He put a hand tohis forehead and massaged his temples. Truman's voice brought him back.

"Well, what do you think?"

Eisenhower turned. Truman stared at him,his glasses glinting in the strong light from the window.

For a long time Eisenhower said nothing,his face drawn. Then he shook his head. "Jesus, I don't know what tothink."

He paused. "You trust the source of thereport?"

Truman nodded firmly. "I damned welldo. No question. And I've had some independent experts brought in on this.Non-CIA and all top-class people in their field. I wanted them to verifyeverything you just read. They all agreed with the facts."

Eisenhower took a deep breath. "Thenwith respect, sir, the day I become President I'm walking into a goddamned minefield."

"I guess you are, Ike," Trumanreplied, matter-of-factly. "And hell, I'm not being flippant. Just scared.Damned scared.

Truman stood and went over to the window.There were dark rings under his eyes and his soft face looked troubled in theharsh light, as if the strain of eight years in office was finally taking itstoll. Suddenly Harry Truman looked very old and very tired.

"To tell the truth, maybe even morescared than I was when I made the decision to drop the bombs on Hiroshima andNagasaki. This has even wider implications. Greater dangers."

When he saw Eisenhower stare back at him,Truman nodded gravely over toward the desk.

"I really mean it, Ike. I'm gladit's going to be a former five-star general sitting in that President's chairand not me. Florida's going to be hot enough. Who the hell needsWashington?"

While the two men talked in the OvalOffice, four thousand miles away in Paris, France another man lay in thedarkened bedroom of a hotel on the boulevard Saint Germain.

Rain drummed against the windows, adownpour falling beyond the drawn curtains.

The telephone rang beside the bed. Hepicked it up. When he spoke he recognized the voice that answered.

' "It's Konstantine. It happensMonday in Berlin. Everything's arranged, I want no mistakes."

"There won't be." There was apause, and then the man heard the bitterness in the caller's voice.

"Send him to hell, Alex. Send thebutcher to hell."

Soviet-Finnish border. October 23rd Justafter midnight the snow had stopped and she lay in the cottony silence of thewoods, listening to her heart beating in her ears like the flutter of wildwings. She was cold.

Her clothes were soaked through and herhair was damp and she was aware of the icy sweat on her face. She was moretired than she had ever been in her life, and suddenly she wanted it to beover.

For the past hour now she had watched thesentry hut beside the narrow metal bridge that ran across the frozen river.Every now and then she rubbed her limbs, trying to get warm, but it was no use,she was chilled to her bones, and she longed for warmth and for a final end tothe exhaustion. Her uniform coat was covered in frost and snow, and as she layin the narrow gully behind the bank of fir trees she tried not to think of thepast, only the future that lay beyond the narrow metal bridge.

She could see the two guards on theRussian side, standing by the small wooden sentry hut, their breaths fogging inthe freezing air as they paced up and down. One of them had a rifle slung overhis shoulder; the other a machine-pistol draped across his chest. The two menwere talking but she couldn't hear their words, only a soft babble of voices.

There was a wooden guardhouse off to theleft, forty meters away, a bank of fir trees beside it, the branches sugaredwith snow. A light was on inside, a plume of wood smoke curling into thefreezing air. She knew that was where the other guards would be resting offduty, but for over half an hour now no one had moved in or out of the warmth ofthe guardhouse, only shadows flitting in and out of the yellow light behind thefrosted glass. OD the metal bridge, electric light blazed from arc lamps in thetrees overhead and the red-and-white barrier poles were down at both ends.