Author Note: This probably isn't a real fan-fiction, because I'm not an avid watcher of shows who knows all the important details and character relationships - I enjoyed The Americans but I can't say I really understood all the storylines. Nevertheless, I've been thinking about writing this particular story for a while, for some pair of anti-American agents, and thought that Elizabeth and Philip would be nice characters to do it with. I also don't know anything about Washington (I've never even been to America :P) so the street names and the companies are all made up.

Elizabeth received only very short notice of their latest assignment.

"The Americans have been copying and storing Soviet documents and photographs for years," the handler said. "Anything they can get their hands on. The majority of it is unimportant, but if they figure out how to use the rest the entire north-eastern network would be compromised."

It was raining outside, water streaming down the windows of the car.

"We have been watching a company called the Amondsen Telephone Company," the handler continued, "based here in Washington."

"Never heard of it," said Elizabeth.

"That's because it doesn't exist. The company headquarters," the handler carried on in one breath as if she were disclosing information as trivial and inconsequential as the weather on the other side of the country, "is located on Ramsey Street in the west end. The ground floor is taken up by a museum of sorts, a self-guided display covering the elaborate and fictional history of Gregory Amondsen and his enterprise," she said the word with a barely disguised expression of distaste, "and this is where you will be concentrating your efforts for the foreseeable future. I have arranged a visit for you through your company – you will be discussing the possibility of opening a contract for telephone services to your offices. Arrive half an hour earlier than the appointed time. Say you had to take the early bus. You are to become thoroughly acquainted with the layout of the museum and security measures in and around the building."

"Why is that?" asked Elizabeth, who was not used to taking such direct and detailed orders. Moscow must be very worried.

"Because," said the handler without a hint of a smile, "you're going to blow it up."