"it's already been reported to your government in London. Major Nicoli Leonov admitted espionage."

Now Suslev's shock was real. He had never expected Metkin to break so quickly. "Who? Who did you say?"

Armstrong sighed. "Major Nicoli Leonov of your KGB. That's his real name and rank. He was also political commissar on this ship."

"Yesa yes that is true but hisa his name is Metkin, Dimitri Metkin."

"Oh? You have no objection if we search this ship?" Armstrong began to get up. Suslev was aghast, Boradinov equally.

"Oh yes I object," Suslev stuttered. "Yes, Superintendent, so sorry but I formally object, and I mu"

"If your ship is not engaged in espionage and is a peaceful freighter why should you object?"

"We have international protections. Unless you have a formal search warrant th"

Armstrong's hand went into his pocket and Suslev's stomach turned over. He would have to comply with a formal warrant and then he would be ruined because they would find more evidence than even they could ever hope for. That god-cursed son of a whore bitch Metkin must've told them something vital. He wanted to shout in rage, the decoded and coded messages in his pocket suddenly lethal. His face had gone white. Boradinov was paralyzed. Armstrong's hand came out of his pocket with only a pack of cigarettes. Suslev's heart began again though his nausea still almost overwhelmed him. "Matyeryebyetsl" he muttered.

"Sir?" Armstrong asked innocently. "Is anything the matter?"

"No, no, nothing."

"Would you care for an English cigarette?"

Suslev fought for control, wanting to smash the other man for tricking him. Sweat was on his back and on his face. He took the cigarette shakily. "These things area are terrible, eh? Espionage and searches and threats of searches."

"Yes. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to leave tomorrow, not Tuesday."

"Impossible! Are we being hounded like rats?" Suslev blustered, not knowing how far he dare go. "I will have to inform my govern- ment and th"

"Please do. Please tell them we have intercepted Major Leonov of the KGB, caught him in an espionage act, and that he has been charged under the Official Secrets Act."

Suslev wiped the sweat off his face, trying to stay calm. Only the knowledge that Metkin was probably dead now kept him in one piece. But what else did he tell them, he was shrieking in his head, what else? He looked at Boradinov who was standing beside him, "bite-faced.

"Wbotre you?" Armstrong asked sharply, following his glance.

"First Officer Boradinov," the younger man said, his voice strangled.

"Who's the new commissar, Captain Suslev? Who took over from your Mr. Leonov? Who's the senior Party man aboard?"

Boradinov went ashen and Suslev was thankful that some of the pressure was turned off him.

"Well?"

Suslev said, "He is. First Officer Boradinov."

At once Armstrong put his icy eyes on the younger man. "Your full name please?"

"Vassili Boradinov, first officer," the man stuttered.

"Very well, Mr. Boradinov, you're responsible for getting this ship under way by midnight Sunday at the latest. You are formally warned we have reason to believe there might be an attack on you by triads by Chinese bandits. The rumor is the attack's planned for the early hours of Monday just after midnight Sunday. It's a very strong rumor. Very. There are lots of Chinese bandits in Hong Kong, and Russians have stolen lots of Chinese land. We are concerned for your safety and health. I suggest it politica eh?"

Boradinov was ashen. "Yes, yes, I understand."

"But mya my repairs," Suslev began, "if my repai"

"Please see they're completed, Captain. If you need extra help or a tow outside Hong Kong waters, just ask. Oh yes, and would you be kind enough to appear at police headquarters at 10:00 A.M. Sunday sorry about the weekend."

Suslev blanched. "Eh?"

"Here's your formal invitation." Armstrong handed him an official letter. Suslev accepted it, began to read as Armstrong took out a second copy, wrote in Boradinov's name. "Here's yours, Commissar Boradinov." He shoved it into his hand. "I suggest you confine the rest of your crew aboard with the exception of yourselves of course and bring your shore party back right smartly. I'm sure you'll have lots to do. Good night!" he added with startling suddenness, got up and went out of the wardroom, closing the door behind bum.

There was a stunned silence. Suslev saw Malcolm Sun get up and leisurely head for the door. He got up to follow but stopped as the Chinese whirled on them.

"We'll get you, all of you!" Sun said malevolently.

"For what? We've done nothing," Boradinov gasped. "We've d"

"Espionage. Spying? You KGB think you're so clever, matye~yebyetsI"

"You get to hell off my ship," Suslev snarled.

"We'll get you all I don't mean us policea" Abruptly Malcolm Sun switched to fluent Russian. "Get out of our lands, hegemonists! China's on the march! We can lose fifty million soldiers, a hundred and still have double that left. Get out while you've time!"

"We'll blast you off the earth!" Suslev bellowed. "We'll atomize all China. We'll ta " He stopped. Malcolm Sun was laughing at him.

"Your mother's tit in your atomics! We've our own atomics now! You start we finish. Atomics, fists, ploughshares!" Malcolm Sulks voice dropped. "Get out of China while you've the chance. We're coming out of the East like Genghis Khan, all of us, Mao Tse-tung, Chiang Kai-shek, me, my grandsons, their grandsons, we're coming and we'll clean you off the earth and take back all our lands, all of theml"

"Get off my shipl " Suslev felt his chest hurting. Almost blind with rage, he readied to hurl himself at his tormentor, Boradinov as well.

Unafraid, Malcolm Sun came back a pace. "Yeb troyu mat' Turd- head!" Then in English, "Hit me and I'll arrest you for assault and impound your ship!"

With a great effort the two men stopped. Choked with rage, Suslev stuffed his fists into his pockets. "Please, you willa you will leave. Please."

"Dew neh lob mob on you, your mother, your father and the whole of your turd-eating Soviet hegemonists!"

"You will leave now."

Equally enraged, Sun cursed them in Russian and shouted back, "We're coming out of the East like locustsa" Then there wash sudden noisy altercation outside on deck and a slight dull boom. At once he turned and went for the door, the other two rushing after him.

Appalled, Suslev saw that now Armstrong was standing at the doorway of the radio room which was next to his cabin. The door was burst open, the two frightened operators staring at the Englishman, aghast, paralyzed deckhand guards nearby. Already the beginning of smoke was welling from the innards of the radio equipment. Red One ordered the senior radio man to trigger the destruct on the secret scrambling device the instant a hostile opened the door or tried to break the lock.

Armstrong turned to face Suslev. "Ah, Captain, so sorry, I stumbled. So sorry," he said innocently. "I thought this was the loo."

"What?"

"The toilet. I stumbled and the door burst open. So sorry." The policeman glanced back into the radio room. "Good God! It seems there's a fire. I'll call the fire brigade at once. Malcolm, get th"

"No . . no!" Suslev said, then snarled in Russian to Boradinov and the deck crew, "Get the fire out!" He jerked a fist out of his pocket and shoved Boradinov into motion. Unnoticed by him his cuff caught one of his decoded cables and it fell onto the deck. Smoke was pouring out from behind one of the complex radio panels. Already one of the deckhands had a fire extinguisher.

"Dear oh dear! What could have happened? You're sure you don't want assistance?" Armstrong asked.

"No, no thank you." Suslev said, his face mottled with rage, "thank you, Superintendent. I'lla I'll see you Sunday."

"Good night, sir. Come along, Malcolm." In the growing confu- sion Armstrong headed for the gangway but stooped and before Suslev realized what was happening picked up the piece of paper and was halfway down the gangway, Malcolm Sun following him.

Appalled, Suslev's hand went to his pocket. Forgetting the fire he rushed into his cabin to check which cable was missing.

Below on the wharf, uniformed police had long since fanned out, covering both gangways. Armstrong was getting into the back of the car beside Sinders. The eyes of the chief of MI-6 were dark-rimmed and his suit a little rumpled but he was icily alert. "Well done, you two! Yes. I imagine that'll interrupt their communications for a day or so."

"Yes sir." Armstrong began rummaging in his pocket for his lighter, his heart pounding. Sinders watched Malcolm Sun get into the driver's seat.

"What's the matter?" he asked thoughtfully, seeing his face.

"Nothing, nothing really, sir." Malcolm Sun craned around, the sweat on his back, his heart hurting and the sick-sweet excitement rage-fear taste still in his mouth. "Whena when I was conducting delaying tactics for the superintendent Ia they got me going, those two bastards."

"Oh? How?"

"Justa they started cursing, so Ia I just cursed them back." Sun faced the front, settled himself, not wanting Sinders's penetrating eyes on his. "Just cursing," he added, trying to sound light.

"Pity one of them didn't hit you."

"Yes, yes I was ready."

Sinders glanced at Armstrong briefly as the big man clicked the lighter on, lit a cigarette and, under the light of the flame, peered at the paper. Sinders glanced up at the ship above. Once more Suslev was standing at the head of the gangway staring down at them. "He looks very angry indeed. Good." The flicker of a smile went over him. "Very good." With Sir Geoffrey's approval he had ordered the sudden arrival and attempt to disrupt the Ivanov's communications and complacency to put pressure on Arthur and the Sevrin moles, hoping to flush them out. "And our police mole," Sir Geoffrey had added grimly. "It's impossible that Brian Kwok's the spy mentioned in the AMG papers. Eh?"

"I agree," he had said.

Armstrong clicked the lighter on In the semidarkness of the car he hesitated. "You'd better get the detail organized, Malcolm. No need to waste any more time here. All right, Mr. Sinders?"

"Yes. Yes we can go now."

Obediently Malcolm Sun left. Armstrong was watching Suslev on the deck. "You, er, you read Russian, don't you sir?"

".Yes, yes I do. Why?"

Carefully Armstrong passed over the paper, holding it by the edges. "This fell out of Suslev's pocket."

Equally carefully Sinders took the paper but his eyes never left Armstrong's. "You don't trust senior agent, Sun?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Oh yes. But Chinese are Chinese and it's in Russian. I don't read Russian."

Sinders frowned. After a moment he nodded. Armstrong lit the flame for him. The older man scanned the paper twice and sighed. "It's a weather report, Robert. Sorry. Unless it's in code, it's just a meteorological report." Carefully he folded the paper in its origin nal creases. "The fingerprints might be valuable. Perhaps it's code. Just for safety I'll pass it on to our cipher fellows."

Sinders settled back more comfortably in the car. The paper had read: "Advise Arthur that, following his request for a Priority One on the traitor Metkin, an immediate intercept was ordered for Bombay. Second, the meeting with the American is brought forward to Sunday. Third and final, the AMG files continue to be Priority One. Maximum effort must be made by Sevrin to achieve success. Center."

Now which American! Sinders asked himself patiently, and is it Arthur's meeting or whose? Captain Suslev? Is he as innocent as he appears? Which American? Bartlett, Tcholok, Banastasio or who? Peter Marlowe Anglo-American-Know-all writer with his curious theories?

Did Bartlett or Tcholok make contact with Center in June in Moscow when they were there, with or without Peter Marlowe, who also happened to be there when a highly secret meeting of foreign agents was taking place?

Or is the American not a visitor at all but someone who lives here in Hong Kong?

Is it Rosemont? Or Langan? Both would be perfect.

So much to wonder about.

Like who's the fourth man? Who's the WIP above Philby? Where will those threads lead? Into Burke's Peerage? Perhaps to some castle, or even a palace?

Who's this mysterious Mrs. Gresserhoff who took Kiernan's sec- ond call and then vanished like a smoke ring?

And what about those bloody files? What about bloody AMG and bloody Dunross trying to be so bloody clevera It was getting toward midnight and Dunross and Casey were sitting happily side-by-side in the glassed-in forward section of one of the Golden Ferries, which swerved confidently toward its berth Kowloon side. It was a good night though the clouds still scudded low. Canvas storm panels still closed in and protected the open part of the decks, but here where they were, the view was good and a fine sea-salt breeze came through one of the open windows.

"It is going to rain again?" she asked, breaking their comfortable silence.

"Oh yes. But I certainly hope the heavy stuff stays away till late tomorrow afternoon."

"You and your racesl Are they that important?"

"To all Hong Kong pan, oh yes. To me, yes and no."

"I'll put my entire fortune on your Noble Star."

"I wouldn't do that," he said. "You should always hedge a bet."

Casey glanced across at him. "Some bets you don't hedge."

"Some bets you can't hedge," he said, correcting her with a smile. Casually he lifted her arm and linked his with hers and settled his hand back in his lap. The contact pleased both of them. It was their first real touch. All during their stroll from the Mandarin Hotel to the ferry Casey had wanted to take his arm. Hut she had fought back the impulse and now she pretended not to notice their interlinking though, instinctively, she had moved a fraction closer.

"Casey, you never finished your story of George Toffer did you fire him?"

"No, no I never did, not as I thought I would. When we'd won control I went to his boardroom. Of course he was fit to be tied but by that time I'd found out he wasn't the hero he claimed to be and a few other things. He just waved one of my letters about the money he owed me in my face and shouted that I'd never get that back, never." She shrugged. "I never did, but I got his company."

"What happened to him?"

"He's still around, still cheating someone. Say, can we stop talking about him, it gives me indigestion."

He laughed. "Perish that thought! Terrific night, isn't it?"

"Yes." They had dined impeccably in the Dragon Room atop the skyscraper hotel. Chateaubriand, a few thread-thin French fries, salad and creme brulee. The wine was Chateau Lafite.

"Celebration?" she had asked.

"Just a thank you for the First Central New York."

"Oh, Ian! They agreed?"

"Murtagh agreed to try."

It had taken just a few seconds to fix the terms based on the bank's agreeing to the financing that Casey had laid out as possible: 120 percent of the cost of both ships, a 50 million revolving fund. "Everything covered by your personal guarantee?" Murtagh had asked.