"But you just said your name was something else and that you studied with Glottwitz!"
"Sh-h-h," said Dugan.
"Sh-h-h," said the drunk. After a moment he added, "Why sh-h-hT
"That's the name I have to use in public. Orders from the N.K.A.R. itself."
"Oh. Orders," said Hundeshausen. "I know all about them. You don't have to tell me about orders. I've worked on all of them. Every single one of them." He named four Russian place names. Each was engraved on Dugan's memory forever.
This alone was enough to entitle him to turn around and head back to Tokyo that moment. But just as he trundled Hundeshausen into bed after buttoning his long woolen underwear for him, there was a shadow in the doorway.
The tall Cossack was there.
XIII. THE UTILIZATION CHAMBER
And in the Cossack's hand, its muzzle looking as big as a railway-tunnel mouth, there was a huge automatic pistol.
Dugan calmly put a finger to his lips for silence and finished putting Hundeshausen into bed. Doing this meant turning his back on the gun. It was ticklish, but he did it.