Pavel lit up a cigarette and passed the package to Anatoli. He had a clear view of Ringwood Pub. Anatoli assured him that their location would not easily arouse suspicion. I hope he’s right. Receiving the cigarette package, he tossed it on the dashboard and let his head drop back against the seat. In no mood to talk, he shut out Anatoli’s idle chatter. The woman with Collier and Snowden intrigued him. Recently, a report destined for the head of NKVD had been snared surreptitiously through his friend Richard Sorge. Within its three-page addendum was a salient piece of information he took a moment to recall—Department E typescript. The Geheime Staatspolizei, Berlin. Limping lady’ actively engaged…subversion…resistance networks in Germany British Intelligence. Thought to be American. That’s who she is!
Ash from his cigarette fell on his tie and he sat upright in a panic to sweep it away. He pushed his fist in front of Anatoli’s face to stop his derisive laughter. Within moments the two broke into laughter. “Can’t let this ‘baby’ burn, now can we, Anatoli? Too precious.”. Sewn into the tie w...