Assignment - Suicide Read Online Free PDF

thought it would
be Luke Marshall at the dacha , not a
Russian girl berating herself for playing the role of a traitor." He
paused, but she said nothing. and he went on briefly to tell her about
Sukinin, the Russian agent, and how Sukinin had been killed trying to reach
him. “We do not believe Sukinin’s death was either accident or coincidence.”
    “No, it was not either," the girl murmured. “Sukinin
was a very dear friend." She spoke without emotion. “Please continue.”
    He told her what Sukinin's statement had contained,
concerning the two underground parties, and the threat from someone named Z.
His voice sharpened. “Does any of this mean something to you?”
    “Oh, yes. But Marshall will tell you. It will be better if you
hear it from your countryman.”
    “Well, that was about it,” Durell said. “Sukinin stressed
the fact that time was essential to stop this man Z from precipitating a war.
Nevertheless, my people were skeptical. We still are. Bluntly, it was decided
that this might be a trap, since we've had no reports from Marshall for over a
month. He was checking on the progress made over here on the intercontinental
missiles, and frankly we found it difficult to believe Sukinin’s report of your
underground movement. There has never been any serious hint of organized
resistance to the regime, and it excited us very much. Trap or no trap,
something had to be done about it.”
    Her eyes slid sidewise to consider him. “And so you came
here, knowing it might be a trap? You are a brave man or foolhardy of perhaps
only a greedy man. Undoubtedly you were promised a large bonus if your mission
here is successful."
    Durell said wryly: “A bonus from my masters?”
    “Of course."
    “There will be no bonus, Valya. I wish We weren’t worlds
apart, so we could understand each other. You call me an enemy; you hate us and
we fear you. But we will never start a war against you. Surely you know that.”
    “You have been preparing to destroy us for a long time,” she
said sharply. “It is common knowledge, so please do not lie about it.“
    “That’s what you read in your newspapers,” Durell said, “The
West wants peace gust as you want peace, but it must be just and honorable.”
    ‘She shook her, head impatiently. “There is no point in
discussing this. You are full of lies.”
    “But can’t we reach a temporary understanding while we’re
working together?” Durell suggested.
    For a moment he detected a fleeting softness in the
lines of her proud, bitter mouth. But it was only momentary, and she did not
reply. They were nearing the central city now, an area of vast palaces and
monuments, the city of Peter the Great, Lenin, and the October Revolution.
Built along the banks of the icy Neva, its atmosphere reminded Durell of Rome
and Paris. The girl scarcely glanced at the equestrian statue of Peter the
Great, founder of the city, but Durell studied the floodlighted monument that
was the work of Falconet, the French sculptor. There was a lunging strength in
the horse as it surged westward with only two hoofs linking its flight
through the sky to the rose granite base. The image of the czar, with his left
hand uplifted to point westward, was strong and powerful. In a moment the
monument was behind them, and Durell settled back thoughtfully. They were in
the heart of the fortress city now, a bastion built upon wild swamp and
Wasteland, founded centuries ago. The river, three times the width of the
Seine, was a swollen, dark torrent carrying ice and debris toward the Gulf of
Finland. Palaces built in the last two centuries bordered the rushing stream,
together with quays of black and pink granite. Ahead was the floodlighted
spire of the Soviet Admiralty.
    The girl swung into the tide of traffic on the Nevsky Prospekt—the Champs-Elysees of Leningrad. The massive
avenue bisected the city from the Neva to the manufacturing suburbs. The broad
sidewalks were crowded. It was only a few minutes after