"Then we go to Moscow," said Tedor, "as Russians, of course. We must discredit Malenkov where possible, disprove the Stalin re-birth theory—"
"And incite the people to revolt," Laniq finished for him.
"Well," said Tedor, and smiled.
"It isn't as difficult as it looks, although I think I'd rather go hunting for lions with my bare hands. You see, I've been to Russia before, several times, and for the same reason. I have a fictitious identity there, which I assume on arrival. I've managed to snag a few top men as—uh, admirers. That includes Vladimir Chenkov, by the way."
"Sounds better already. You stay with your father," said Tedor, "for a while. I'm taking a trip up to New York to get some information from our Century Agent there. Then I'll return, pick up one female intriguer out here in Nevada, and we'll be on our way. Take care of yourselves." And Tedor left.
"Nice chap," Hadrien told his daughter.
She smiled at him. "You know something Dad? I'm just beginning to realize that. Very nice."
The office was on the twenty-third floor of a big office building in mid-town New York, room 2307. It came with all the standard equipment, desks, filing cabinets, chairs, phones, an attractive secretary.
"I'd like to see Mr. Sertant," Tedor told the secretary, who was leafing through one magazine with half a dozen others waiting their turn.