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Once more Hewlitt nodded.

“So when Gregor, as you so picturesquely say, bought the farm, I forgot my pain long enough to call the premier and tell him for God’s sake not to lose the chance to save his own neck. This is not to be repeated, yes?”

“If you say not, no.”

“You will keep your word on that, I am aware, although it is not all that important; others will figure it out.”

“I suspect that they already have.”

Zalinsky shrugged his shoulders and finished his beer. “I regret that I did not meet the man who defeated Gregor Rostovitch; he must be a giant.”

Hewlitt shook his head this time. “Not really, although he is very powerful, there is no denying that. Most of all, he was angry and with a just cause — that helped.”

“You have him where he is safe?”

“He’s fine, thank you.”

“It is amazing that you rescued him so easily; you must have had some help.”

Hewlitt looked him in the eye. “I believe we did,” he said.

“Now, anyhow, I am going home. I will be glad to get back. After a little rest and a chance to see my family, I will probably be given another factory to run. There are times when I am tired of factories.”

That gave Hewlitt an opening he had been waiting for. “Mr. Zalinsky, I don’t think that you should go home. We talked once about suspicion — this time I am suspicious, they will want someone to blame besides Colonel Rostovitch and you will be the obvious choice. You have given me advice, I now have some for you: ask for political asylum and stay here. It will be granted, I have already asked. Your family will like it here. We are a funny people, but as soon as you ask for asylum they will accept you and you know now that this is a nice place to live. You speak English and you won’t have to run a factory — you can teach political science.”

Zalinsky smiled grimly for a moment. “It is a temptation, but the premier wants me to come back so I will, and if there is punishment for me, I will accept it. But I do not think so; you see the political climate in my country changes as the seasons do; it is spring at the moment and sins are being forgiven. I like it here, but it is not my own country — you understand that.”

“Yes, of course. But if you arrive and find that there is a blizzard, come back.”

Zalinsky changed the subject. “You were a good helper even if you were a bad spy. But that is forgivable; you had no experience and no training — dangerous for an amateur.”

“I tried hard,” Hewlitt said.

“Too hard, I could see that. But I did not tell Gregor because I do not like messy scenes myself and he did not appreciate any help. I missed only one entertainment — the night you were driven into bed with the Barbara girl.”

“It was not too difficult to accomplish.”

“This I can believe, but I would liked to have seen it. One complaint I had with this job was lack of amusement. Would you like some more beer?”

“No thank you, Mr. Zalinsky.”

“Then I give you a present as I leave — I will state that I was completely fooled and never suspected what you were doing. They will believe it and it will be all right.” He got to his feet. “You do speak my language very well.”

Hewlitt shook hands with him for the first time. “I’ll be down to see you off,” he promised.

Andrews Air Force Base was shrouded by a thick low overcast which hung in the air like a pall over the whole area and gave to everything a monotonous gray appearance. The wintry gloom penetrated all of the installations. It was the kind of a day when people had found it difficult to get out of bed and looked forward with more than average anticipation to being free to go home again and enjoy whatever creature comforts awaited them there.

Hewlitt tried hard to keep the mood from affecting him. An episode was ending, but to him it had seemed more like an era. He had gone into it as a White House functionary, accepted for his particular skill and well established in the minor role he had been assigned. Because his work had entailed a few minor and impersonal contacts with the President, he had enjoyed a very limited amount of prestige which had been ladled out according to the strict and stifling protocol which had regulated the government structure. He had worked in the White House, but he had still been classified far down the totem pole as one of those who did not matter.

He mattered now. In the morning papers one of the most important national columnists had given him a major write-up and had printed some of the facts relative to his service with the Thomas Jefferson project during the tenure of Feodor Zalinsky. It was not the first such publicity that he had received. Furthermore, the writer, who was noted for doing such things, had concluded with the firm recommendation that here was a man who was needed in a far more imgprtant level of government. He had already had a number of phone calls, one from the majority leader in the Senate, who had seriously proposed that he consent to fill out an unexpired term in that august body that had fallen vacant. The appointment, he had been firmly assured, was his if he wanted it; he was suddenly a popular hero.

He had no particular desire to become Senator Hewlitt, but he had agreed to think it over. One thing recommended it: he had a lot of ideas now and the opportunity to put some of them to work appealed to him. And he was certainly old enough to hold the job even though the bulk of the Senate was made up of more senior men.

He was touched on the shoulder and turned around to find Percival there. He had been expecting him and held out his hand. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“All right. There’s been a great deal to do.”

“I believe that. When you’re through, are you going to continue in the business?”

“I’m not sure, Hew. It’s been quite a tour of duty, I’ll say that, but

I’d like to get back to my family, for a little while anyway, if I can.”

“I didn’t know you had one.”

“Three kids, and I don’t want them to grow up without knowing who their father is.”

Hewlitt opened his mouth to speak, then he saw Barbara coming. He waited for her and then put his arm around her in protective greeting for a moment when she stood beside him. “Where is he?” she asked.

“He’s not here yet. They’re bringing him in through the back way to forestall any last-minute problems that might come up.”

He looked at the familiar sleek lines of the four-engined jet transport that was fueled and waiting for its scheduled transatlantic flight. By order of the President, which in this instance probably meant that Admiral Haymarket had been responsible, Feodor Zalinsky and his immediate staff were being sent home in one of the official aircraft as though he had been an honored visitor. It was a bit of stage setting to support the “negotiations” between the premier and the senior American senator who was already overseas.

Hewlitt turned to Percival. “You’re sure that this won’t blow you — put you in any danger?”

Percival shook his head. “Under the circumstances — no. I’ve had advice on it.”

“I would expect so.” He left it at that; his conscience was clear. Before he could take up the next topic in his mind he saw a car coming, a single vehicle that was flying a flag on its front fender that gave it permission to be on the flight line. He watched as it pulled up, and the two secret service men who had been in his small White House cell got out. A few moments later Zalinsky appeared, wrapped in an overcoat which added little to his appearance. Hewlitt noted that; it was good stage setting for his return home, marking him as the humble people’s representative who still chose to wear the nondescript garments which had been his when he had left. Once more he realized that Feodor Zalinsky was not dumb.