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 “What the hell's the big idea of trying to kill me?” I  asked as he came up to me.

 “You are a traitor, a double agent,” he blustered.  “You thought you were smarter than I am, but now you  see that you aren't. Now you will pay for this mistake  with your life!"

 “You’re crazy, you Russian ape," I told him. “You've  killed God knows how many innocent people trying to  get me, and for what? Why do you want to kill me,  anyway? What makes you think I betrayed you?”

 “You deny it? American pig! For this insult to my  intelligence it will be a pleasure to kill you personally!”

 “Just what the devil am I supposed to have done?”

 “First, Yankee dog, you spent the night at the harem  of Sheikh Tajed el Atassi. Then you fled Damascus and  turn up in Baghdad with the chief henchman of Sheikh  el Atassi. Finally, you accompany him to a meeting at  which many dupes of the enemies of Russia are in attendance. Do you think I am such a fool as to believe  that you are not in league with them?”

 “Wait a minute! Wait a cotton-picking minute! Getting to see Sheikh el Atassi was part of the job I'm doing  for the Party."

 “Liar! Don't you think we know that Sheikh el Atassi  has been of great use to an Egyptian who is an agent of  the Peking regime?"

 Talk about double think! I had the dizzying sensation  of having fallen right smack into the middle of Orwell's  1984. “Of course I know you know what, you maniac!” I  shouted. "You told me back in Baghdad, remember?  That’s why I set out to ingratiate myself with the sheikh  in the first place. How else was I ever going to trace  Anna Kirkov?"

 “Yes, you fooled me for a little while," Potemchenko     said irrelevantly. “But looking back now I see it all  clearly. You used the information I gave you as a pretext  for making contact with the sheikh. He gave you information to be passed on to the Chinese from Baghdad.  You have been playing both sides of the game."

 "That’s ridiculous!" I told him.

 "Then how was it that you gained entrance to the  sheikh's harem? And how was it that you were allowed  to leave unscathed? No man is allowed inside there except at the express invitation of the sheikh. If you  hadn't known him before, you never would have gotten  out alive. And why did you flee Damascus? I'll tell you  why! You were trying to give me the slip before I caught  on to your double-game. That's why! And how is it that  you made contact with Ben-Kavir? You're not going to  tell me that was a coincidence. You must have pre-arranged the meeting."

 "It's all part of the same thing," I told him. “I got to  see the skeikh by returning a houri who had run away  from his harem. I left Damascus because I had a lead on  Anna Kirkov that pointed to Baghdad. I didn't stop to  tell you because I was in a hurry and I had no orders to  check with you before making any moves. And, yes, my  meeting with Ben-Kavir was sheer chance."

 "Really?" He looked at me like a man who had been  saving the choice part for last. “And I suppose you can  explain away the fact that the night before you contacted  me you left the Damascus police station with a representative of the American embassy and accompanied him to  that embassy. By Lenin, I believe you may well be a  triple agent."

 "I can't explain that to you," I told him quietly.  “You'll just have to take my word that it's all part of  the same mission."

 “I will take your word for nothing. You are a traitor  and now you are going to die." He took the tommygun  from one of his henchmen and raised it towards me.

 “Potemchenko," I said slowly, looking him straight in  the eye, "if you kill me, you're as good as dead yourself.  My orders come straight from the Kremlin. My mission  is extremely important to them. Anyone who botches it  by killing me will be eliminated as the incompetent    boob he is. Believe me, Potemchenko, if you don't contact Moscow before killing me, you'll be dead within a  week.”

 He hesitated. Conditioned to obey unquestioningly, he  was caught between his instinct that I was a traitor and  the fear that he might indeed be exceeding his authority.  “I don't believe you," he said finally, but there was a  shaky note in his voice.

 “You don't dare take the chance," I told him. “You  can kill me any time. I'm your prisoner. But if you're  smart you'll contact Moscow first."

 “All right, American pig. I will call Moscow. But if  you are leading me on as I'm sure that you are, rest  assured that your death shall be doubly unpleasant." He  turned to his henchmen. “Guard him carefully,” he instructed. “I will only be a few minutes." He started for  the car and I guessed correctly that there was a short-wave transmitter in it.

 About twenty minutes later he returned, obviously  chagrined. “Release him," he instructed the guards with  obvious reluctance.

 “So I was right, Potemchenko.“ I couldn't resist rubbing it in.

 “Moscow says that you are to be trusted," he admitted  stiffly.

 “And so four or five men are dead because you chose  to shoot first and ask questions later."

 “'They were all working hand-in-hand with the Chinese.

 “What about him?" I pointed to Basra's body, "He  wasn't working for the Chinese. He was just a poor cab  driver, an innocent bystander.”

 “An Arab pimp!" Potemchenko blew a mouthful of  saliva and contempt at the corpse. “What difference does  one piece of dung like that make? It is only the ultimate  good for all that is important.”

 I choked back my rage. "Give me a lift back to town,"  I said .

 “Yes. I have some information to pass on to you from  Moscow. I will tell you as we ride. One thing." He  stopped in his tracks. “I am still not convinced that you  are a loyal agent."

"After Moscow vouched for me? Why, Potemchenko,  questioning the Kremlin’s judgment! That could make  you a traitor!"

 “We shall see who is the traitor!” he said ominously  and started for the car again. “I still do not understand  what you were doing at the American embassy."

 “Why didn't you ask your Egyptian stooge, the Damascus police chief?" I suggested.

 “That puppet? He knows only what we choose to tell  him, nothing more. He only knew you went there, not  why .”

 So I'd guessed right. It had been the oily Egyptian  who tipped off Potemchenko about my visit to the embassy. I made a mental note to tell Charles Putnam -- if I  ever saw him again—that the police chief was not to be  trusted.

 I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as Potemchenko began relaying the information from Moscow. It seemed that a Dr. Suno Wong, Red China's foremost atomic research scientist, had left Peking by plane  that afternoon. The N.K.V.D.'s information was that he  was bound for Kabul, Afghanistan. Their feeling was  that the purpose of his trip might be a meeting with  Anna Kirkov.

 I didn't tell Potemchenko how right I thought that  guess might be. I didn't tell him that Ben-Kavir had  hinted to me that Mustafa Ben Narouz might also be in  Kabul. I didn't tell him just how likely I thought it that  Anna Kirkov might be there herself.

 "I leave for Kabul myself tonight," Potemchenko concluded. “Will you go there?"

 “Tonight I go to sleep," I told him. “I'll see how I  feel about it in the morning."

 “If you came with me tonight, the plane I have arranged for would have you there before morning."

 "No thanks," I told him flatly.

 “Al1 right." His easy agreement told me that Moscow  must have straightened him out as to any authority he  might have thought he had over me. I was glad of that. I  didn’t want him tripping me up again. The more distance between us, the better I liked it.

 He dropped me at my hotel. I went straight up to my    room. I opened the door, closed it behind me, and turned  on the 1ight. I found myself looking down the muzzle of  a .45 with a silencer attachment.