A thin, far away voice said finally, "O.K. Paul. I'm receiving."
Paul Koslov took a deep breath and said, "All right, this is it. In just a few days we're all set to kick off. Understand?"
"I understand, Paul."
"Is it possible that anybody else can be receiving this?"
"Absolutely impossible."
"All right, then this is it. The boys here are going to start their revolution going by knocking off not only Number One, but also Two, Three, Four, Six and Seven of the hierarchy. Number Five is one of theirs."
The thin voice said, "You know I don't want details. They're up to you."
Paul grimaced. "This is why I called. You've got to make—or someone's got to make—one hell of an important decision in the next couple of days. It's not up to me. For once I'm not to be brushed off with that 'don't bother me with details,' routine."
"Decision? What decision? You said everything was all ready to go, didn't you?"
"Look," Paul Koslov said, "remember when you gave me this assignment. When you told me about the Germans sending Lenin up to Petrograd in hopes he'd start a revolution and the British sending Somerset Maugham to try and prevent it?"