"We are not that stupid, Comrade Pavlovitch. It was noted that parts of the island were off-limits to our inspection teams, and therefore it was necessary to instigate this series of operations." Burdovsky unclasped his hands and placed them lightly on her shoulders, experiencing a sensation that was at once stimulating and extremely uncomfortable in his tight uniform. "From the reports we know that the operatives who preceded you met with considerable difficulty in obtaining intelligence on Zone Four, which has led, as you know, to this new type of approach . . ." His stubby fingers touched her neck. Her skin felt cool and yet his fingertips burned. "And to you, comrade, being personally selected by me to undertake the assignment."
"I understand that, Colonel." Her voice was totally without expression. She might have been carved out of soap. His fingers roamed lower, feeling for the hollows formed by her collarbones. Natassya said crisply, "The reports are quite explicit in having discovered nothing at all about the activities in Zone Four."
Explicit they were, thought Burdovsky, with one crucial omission: that of the three operatives sent to Starbuck as members of the scientific inspection teams, two had failed to return. Their reports had been culled from notes and tapes left with their colleagues. As for the third operative, who had returned, he had no information to add to the sketchy findings thus far.
"We are satisfied that the Americans have cooperated fully in their research into various techniques of mass extermination." Burdovsky's fingers strayed down inside the woolen collar. "But Starbuck Island is being used for some other purpose, which Advanced Strategic Projects do not wish to reveal." He could feel the gentle slopes of her breasts, rising and falling with each steady breath. "And it is vital that we learn what that is. Absolutely vital." His voice sank to a throaty whisper. "I know you will not fail me, comrade."
In a calm, unhurried movement Natassya Pavlovitch removed his chubby paws and rose to her feet, towering statuesquely above him like an Amazon confronting a Pygmy. "You may have every confidence that I will do my duty, Colonel Burdovsky. I thank you for this opportunity to be of service."
With trembling and regret, he watched her leave, the fleshy palms of his hands damp. What compounded his frustration was that this slender, narrow-hipped, desirable young woman was to employ her charms in the service of the state and that some cretin of an American scientist or security officer would be the fortunate recipient. While he, Burdovsky, lusted secretly and impotently from afar.
And what if she didn't return? Supposing she went the way of the others? But she must, had to,
The lip of the sun crept over the straight edge of the horizon: a sharply defined and perfectly symmetrical arc of vivid orange that widened and deepened until the entire glowing orb stood precariously balanced on the rim of the world. At this hour it was possible to stare it full in the face. But not for long; for in minutes the first faint rays lanced through the cool air, bathing the onlooker in a benign radiance of gathering warmth.
For Chase, unable to sleep, it was balm to the spirit.
He was reminded of that other sunrise, nearly a quarter of a century ago on a bitterly cold, inhospitable continent, when as a young man he had been filled with unbounded optimism and the promise of all the years stretching ahead into the golden future. Then it had seemed as if nothing would be denied him, that anything and everything was possible.
But the possibilities had dwindled one by one, the options had been annulled--until he was left with only the bleak reality of the inescapable present.
Below the desert scrub, secure beneath thick slabs of concrete and steel, another day was beginning. Not for the first time, nor probably the last, Chase wondered at the purpose of this ceaseless activity. Every day for the past four years, ever since the scientists and technical staff had assembled here in the refurbished silo complex, work had gone ahead to solve a problem so vast that it numbed the imagination. Was it all just a grand illusion? Or more aptly, delusion? What folly to think that their puny efforts could achieve anything--what arrogance! Cheryl had been right; maybe for the wrong reasons, but she had been right all the same.
Now he could feel the heat of the sun on his face, feel it gaining in strength by the minute.
