"T-Directorate. Like I said, no one knows for sure, but that's what we've heard."
"Impossible." He halted and turned back, frowning.
"That's just it, Yuri Andreevich," he sighed. "Those KGB bastards are not supposed to even know about this project.
That was everybody's strict understanding. We were to be free of them here. But now . . ." He caught the sleeve of Androv's flight jacket and pulled him aside, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic in the hallway. "My men were wondering. Maybe you could find a way to check her out? You have better access. Everybody wants to know what's going on."
"KGB? It doesn't make any sense."
"If she's really . . . I just talked to the project kurirovat, Ivan Semenovich, and he told me Karanova's now number three in T-Directorate."
"Well, there's nothing we can do now, so the hell with her." He waved his hand and tried to move on. "We've both got better things to worry about."
"Just keep your antenna tuned, my friend, that's all. Let me know if you can find out anything. Is she really Karanova? Because if she is, we damned well need to know the inside story."
"Nikolai, if I see her, I'll be sure and ask." He winked. "And if she's the hot number you say, maybe I'll find time to warm her up a little. Get her to drop her . . . guard."
"If you succeed in that, moi droog," he said as his heavy eyebrows lifted with a sly grin, "you'll be the envy of the facility. You've got to see her."