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e Federal Bureau。〃
〃Are you threatening me； you lowlife？〃
〃I certainly am； Peter。〃 Casset dropped the ice from his expression； replacing it with a calm； thin smile。 〃You're breaking the law； Mr。 Director。 。。。 That's regrettable； old boy； as my predecessors might have said。〃
〃What the hell do you want from me？〃 cried Holland。
〃Cover one of our own； one of the best we ever had。 I not only want it； I insist upon it。〃
〃If you think I'm going to give him everything； including the name of Medusa's law firm on Wall Street； you're out of your fucking mind。 It's our keystone！〃
〃For God's sake； go back into the navy； Admiral；〃 said the deputy director； his voice level； again cold； without emphasis。 〃If you think that's what I'm suggesting； you haven't learned very much in that chair。〃
〃Hey； e on； smart ass； that's pretty close to insubordination。〃
〃Of course it is； because I'm insubordinate…but this isn't the navy。 You can't keelhaul me； or hang me from the yardarm； or withhold my ration of rum。 All you can do is fire me； and if you do； a lot of people will wonder why； which wouldn't do the Agency any good。 But that's not necessary。〃
〃What the hell are you talking about； Charlie？〃
〃Well； to begin with； I'm not talking about that law firm in New York because you're right； it is our keystone； and Alex with his infinite imagination would probe and threaten to the point where the shredding begins and our paper trail here and abroad ends。〃
〃I had something like that in mind…〃
〃Then again you were right；〃 interrupted Casset； nodding。 〃So we keep Alex away from our keystone； as far away from us as possible； but we give him our marker。 Something tangible he can plug into； knowing its value。〃
Silence。 Then Holland spoke。 〃I don't understand a word you're saying。〃
〃You would if you knew Conklin better。 He knows now that there's a connection between Medusa and the Jackal。 What did you call it？ A self…fulfilling prophecy？〃
〃I said the strategy was so perfect it was inevitable and therefore self…fulfilling。 DeSole was the unexpected catalyst who moved everything ahead of schedule…him and whatever the hell happened down in Montserrat。 。。。 What's this marker of yours； this tangible item of value？〃
〃The string； Peter。 Knowing what he knows； you can't let Alex bounce around Europe like a loose cannon any more than you could give him the name of that law firm in New York。 We need a pipeline to him so we have some idea what he's up to…more than an idea； if we can manage it。 Someone like his friend Bernardine； only someone who can also be our friend。〃
〃Where do we find such a person？〃
〃I have a candidate…and I hope we're not being taped。〃
〃Count on it；〃 said Holland with a trace of anger。 〃I don't believe in that crap and this office is swept every morning。 Who's the candidate？〃
〃A man at the Soviet embassy in Paris；〃 replied Casset calmly。 〃I think we can deal。〃
〃A mole？〃
〃Not for a minute。 A KGB officer whose first priority never changes。 Find Carlos。 Kill Carlos。 Protect Novgorod。〃
〃Novgorod 。。。 ？ The Americanized village or town where the Jackal was initially trained in Russia？〃
〃Half trained and escaped from before he could be shot as a maniac。 Only； it's not just an American pound…that's a mistake we make so often。 There are British and French pounds； too； also Israeli； Dutch； Spanish； West German and God knows how many others。 Dozens of square miles cut out of the forests along the Volkhov River； dotted with settlements so that you'd swear you were in a different country with each one you entered…if you could get inside； which you couldn't。 Like the Aryan breeding farms； the Lebensborn of Nazi Germany； Novgorod is one of Moscow's most closely guarded secrets。 They want the Jackal as badly as Jason Bourne does。〃
〃And you think this KGB fellow will cooperate； keep us informed about Conklin if they make contact？〃
〃I can try。 After all； we have a mon objective； and I know Alex would accept him because he knows how much the Soviets want Carlos on the dead list。〃
Holland leaned forward in his chair。 〃I told Conklin I'd help him any way I could as long as it didn't promise our going after Medusa。 。。。 He'll be landing in Paris within the hour。 Shall I leave instructions at the diplomatic counter for him to reach you？〃
〃Tell him to call Charlie Bravo Plus One；〃 said Casset； getting up and dropping the puter printout on the desk。 〃I don't know how much I can give him in an hour； but I'll go to work。 I've got a secure channel to our Russian； thanks to an outstanding 'consultant' of ours in Paris。〃
〃Give him a bonus。〃
〃She's already asked for one…harassed me is more appropriate。 She runs the cleanest escort service in the city； the girls are checked weekly。〃
〃Why not hire them all？〃 asked the director； smiling。
〃I believe seven are already on the payroll； sir；〃 answered the deputy director； his demeanor serious； in contrast to his arched eyebrows。
Dr。 Morris Panov； his legs unsteady； was helped down the metal steps of the diplomatically cleared jet by a strapping marine corporal in starched summer khakis carrying his suitcase。 〃How do you people manage to look so presentable after such a perfectly horrendous trip？〃 asked the psychiatrist。
〃None of us will look this presentable after a couple of hours of liberty in Paris； sir。〃
〃Some things never change； Corporal。 Thank God。 。。。 Where's that crippled delinquent who was with me？〃
〃He was vehicled off for a diplograph； sir。〃
〃e again？ A noun's a verb leading to the inprehensible？〃
〃It's not so hard； Doctor；〃 laughed the marine； leading Panov to a motorized cart plete with a uniformed driver and a stenciled American flag on the side。 〃During our descent； the tower radioed the pilot that there was an urgent message for him。〃
〃I thought he went to the bathroom。〃
〃That； too； I believe； sir。〃 The corporal put the suitcase on a rear rack and helped Mo into the cart。 〃Easy now； Doctor； lift your leg up a little higher。〃
〃That's the other one； not me；〃 protested the psychiatrist。 〃He's the one without a foot。〃
〃We were told you'd been ill； sir。〃
〃Not in my goddamned legs。 。。。 Sorry； young man； no offense。 I just don't like flying in small tubes a hundred and ten miles up in the sky。 Not too many astronauts e from Tremont Avenue in the Bronx。〃
〃Hey； you're kidding； Doc！〃
〃What？〃
〃I'm from Garden Street； you know； across from the zoo！ The name's Fleishman； Morris Fleishman。 Nice to meet a fellow Bronxite。〃
〃Morris？〃 said Panov； shaking hands。 〃Morris the Marine？ I should have had a talk with your parents。 。。。 Stay well； Mo。 And thank you for your concern。〃
〃You get better； Doc； and when you see Tremont Avenue again； give it my best； okay？〃
〃I will； indeed； Morris；〃 replied Morris； raising his hand as the diplomatic cart shot forward。
Four minutes later； escorted by the driver； Panov entered the long gray corridor that was the immigration…free access to France for government functionaries of nations accredited by the Quai d'Orsay。 They walked into the large holding lounge where men and women were gathered in small groups； conversing quietly； the sounds of different languages fillin