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unists。 Instead； the British betrayed them。 They were sent back to Stalin； who promptly executed them。
Wives； children； the entire families。〃
〃That's a rather simplistic view； but basically it wasn't exactly our finest hour。〃
〃You're right； of course。 The plain； cut and dried story is simplistic。 They were a ruthless people。 In the end they got what they deserved。 The families were the innocents though。 Now； Janus？〃
〃I'd like you to contact him。
You must have ways。 Let him know that it's me； and that I'm asking around about the helicopter。 You could； possibly； say that we're meeting at the Grand Hotel Europe tonight。 Might just drag him out。' 〃And you and I are even； while he'll owe me one。
〃Precisely。〃 Valentin Zukovsky rose and limped to the door。 〃If you're ever contemplating a change of career； let me know。
At the door； Bond said； 〃With people like you around； Valentin； I think I'll always find work。〃
Natalya's watch had stopped when the pulse of the nuclear explosion had hit at the Severnaya Station。 She discovered the fact while on the train to St。 Petersburg； and it had deeply saddened her； for the watch was of great sentimental value。 Her parents had gone without a number of luxuries to purchase it as a gift before she went to university。 It would have been easy for Natalya to buy a new one at the hard currency shop； but somehow she did not want to part with it。 Maybe she could find a watchmaker who would repair it for her。 In the meantime she would rely on public clocks； for the watch felt somehow forting strapped to her wrist
On the previous evening she had found a small hotel off Tchaikovsky Street which did not require to see passports and any other identification as long as you paid； in advance； with hard currency。
The fact that the salaries at the Severnaya Station were issued in American dollars； a great incentive to remain silent about the work； had bee the one most important method of survival … and she thanked God for it。
She had slept late； checked out of the hotel and walked the streets； visiting places which interested her； in order to get through the day。 The first thing she did was to go and walk past the church of Our Lady of Smolensk … a tiny blue…painted Orthodox church； out near the Smolny Institute。 There she discovered that she had started to think like a criminal； or at least a fugitive； for she checked the exits and entrances； together with all the adjacent streets and alleys。
At around ten minutes to six that evening she was back； looking at the church from the outside。 Once more she walked around the building before venturing inside。
It was a little jewel； with icons that took her breath away。 Just being in the church stirred her emotions。 She did not know if she believed in God； or all the other things associated with the Russian Orthodox Christian religion； but； once inside； with the scent of incense in her nostrils she had a great desire to pray。
She walked slowly down the centre aisle to a large icon of the Virgin Mary； Our Lady of Smolensk； slid a bill into the little box and lit a votive candle； then she knelt to pray。
She prayed for her parents； for the souls of all her friends who had died at Severnaya Station。 Then she prayed for herself and a deliverance from the danger in which she now found herself。 Nobody had ever taught her to pray； but it came naturally to her； like walking or speaking to a friend。 Lastly she added that God's will should be done； then realised that she had been inside the church for a good ten to fifteen minutes。 Boris had not shown up and panic leaped into her head like some terrible vision。 She began to question everything。 Had Boris been caught？ Had he led her into a trap？
The panic deepened and she moved back up the aisle towards the west door。 Halfway up the aisle she stopped； turning quickly。 Was that a noise？ Soft footsteps from behind？ She saw the flames of votive candles in front of the icon moving； as though someone had passed by them quickly。
The fear gripped her again； she turned towards the door and began to run。 Straight into someone who had slipped into the church。
〃Natalya！〃 said Boris。
〃Boris！〃 Her heart was pounding。 〃Boris； what's。。。
He put a finger to his lips。 〃Quick。 e with me。 There isn't much time。〃 He grabbed at her hand； and for a second she remained uncertain； pulling away； then finally going with him； feeling his arm circle her shoulder as he led her towards a curtain to the right of the icon of Our Lady of Smolensk。
He still held her tightly as they pushed through the curtain； then stopped。
For a split second she could not believe it。 She looked at Boris and then at the woman； Xenia Onatopp； who stood just inside the curtain； looking like some terrible harbinger of death。
She tried to shake herself free； felt the needle stab through her clothing into her right shoulder； saw the world spinning； and the terrifying face of Xenia； mouth open as though she wished to devour her。 Then darkness。
Boris grinned at Xenia。 〃Silly little goose；' he said。
〃Let's get her in the car。 I've got another appointment；' Xenia spoke with an undisguised relish。
There is a spa in the basement of the Grand Hotel Europe； designed in some way similar to those Turkish baths that used to be found in London and New York。 The only difference was that this spa's designers seemed to have dug into the roots of Russian decor； after the old style； rather than any approximation of Turkey。
In what was once the old Soviet Union； you only found one type of chandelier； in various sizes； as though the State had a monopoly on design … which； of course； was true。 Those same standard chandeliers lingered on； elsewhere there were fluted pillars； beautifully carved marble； red plush seats and hangings。 There was also an unusually high scent of chlorine in the air。
During the evening you could often find many businessmen swimming in the luxurious pool； or reclining in one of the big steam rooms。 In spite of the chlorine it was an admirable place to relax and unwind after a long hard day。
Bond was glad that he had got in before anyone else。
He wanted to swim and steam away the day's tensions on his own。
That was why he had carefully hung a Closed for Cleaning sign on the main door at the top of the steps leading down to the pool area。
There were other reasons。 He wanted to be alone in the hope that Janus would take up the bait。 To this end he had checked out the changing rooms and the steam rooms； particularly the big one decorated with beautiful tiling； the steam billowing and hot around him。 As he knifed through the water； his mind began to focus on the events of the day； of his reunion with Zukovsky and the short telephone conversation he had initiated with Jack Wade。 Zukovsky had taken up the offer regarding the explosives deal； the large amount of plastique was now in the hands of the authorities； and the money had safely reached Valentin。 In turn； this almost certainly meant that Janus； by now； would have his sights on Bond； the