Philip, he got back to their apartment early. And why not. He was in a celebratory mood. If Elizabeth was there, he would tell her not to start dinner. It would be his 'treat' to walk her over to Pike Place Market, where they could get some of that fresh fish the fishmongers threw around.

The sound of the shower confirmed where Elizabeth was.

Of course, Pike Place would need to be surveilled for suspected 'Russians'. Other than that first time, there had been no sign of Rene Beeman…. Elizabeth had met her at that women's lounge. They'd made a date to reconnect….. which may or may not have been a good idea….

The attempt to track down Rene's specifics in Seattle had drawn a blank. The Centre, it was minimal help, which could have meant a number of things. Make no mistake, of all the dangers hanging over their heads on this, their second tour of duty in America, seeing Rene should have been a deal-breaker.

They should have bailed out and sped to SeaTac. The only thing Zotov had said from The Centre, was, 'we're handling it. You two, you continue. You're doing fine.'

It was just that Philip, he was happy in Seattle. He even preferred it's insipid rain to Moscow's Arctic climate or Fall Church's summer humid heat. He most certainly enjoyed how the opening of the new travel agency was going. He had told The Centre that it would be up and running within two weeks, with a skeleton crew of computer savvy employees already set to go. All that was needed was for the renovations and computer installation to complete, and training could start.

So it was, upon entering the apartment, he heard the shower running. Yet another reason to prefer America over Russia - even in this old west coast building, one could always have a hot shower! No shortage of water in a rain forest!

Any thought of stripping down and joining Elizabeth in the steam, those thoughts were stifled by a number of things. First, they were in their fifties. There was that. Second, the last time he'd tried to go all romantic with her in the shower, that was after they'd been officially married by 'the church', meaning by the Russian Orthodox priest, the one who'd eventually betrayed them.

But it was not the betrayal, and it had not been the surprise of sex… back in 1987 it was Philip surprising Elizabeth. Those had been the Operation Deadhand days, when Operation Harvest had gone askew, when both he and Elizabeth had been stretched to the limit…. suffice it to say that Elizabeth had been stressed and on edge - he'd taken off his clothes, and tried to surprise her in their Falls Church, en suite shower.

Bad idea.

That had not gone well. Let's leave it at that. Neither of their kids had been home, so they had not heard the ruckus.

So in 1992, when Philip heard the shower turn off, he called out prophylacticly, "honey, I have some good news!"

"Don't come in, Philip, I need my privacy. Give me a minute and I'll be out," came the reply. Each time Philip had been successful in a hunch, he noticed that the stress of it all was a little less intense, just a bit.

Now a fifty-year-old, he still couldn't get used to being embedded again, or working without a net like he had.

To add to it all, he was painfully aware that his skills were rusty. He was less than sharp. Knowing that she was now aware he was home, he absentmindedly simply opened the bathroom door, and only got a few words out, "….. I just want you to know that the agency will be opening next…."

But he stopped when he saw Elizabeth's naked frame as she was toweling herself off.

Instead of her throwing a bar of soap at him, he was the first to gasp, seeing the welts on her naked back, bum and upper back legs….

She turned and covered herself up. She then spat out sharply, "what the hell, Philip! I told you I needed my privacy!"

Undeterred, he equally sharply spat back, "I thought that all that shit was finished. That we weren't here for that. Who the fuck is he, Elizabeth? Give me his name….."

Deciding that it was now no use to cover up, she continued to towel herself as if nothing was going on. Nonchalantly she spoke words which originated from all those years 'in the field' when they hadn't been married.

"You're not my protector, Philip. Back off." She then winced when toweling off a bruised place, but managed a more ironic, "what makes you think it's a 'he'?"

He went out to the side table beside their bed and got his pistol. Returning he demanded, "Who and where, Elizabeth. Now! I don't care if it's an 'it'."

While toweling her hair, she turned to him, "is this why you came back, Philip? Huh? This is what we do." She then corrected herself, "this is what I do. You, you're pursuing the American dream, like always. Me, I'm working."

"Elizabeth," he said more softly while checking the pistol's ammunition, "you're my wife."

"This is what got us in trouble last time, Philip. We got married, that took our mind off of our missions. I couldn't handle it then, I can't handle it now. Just put the fucking gun away, and I'll be out. You need to know anyway. It's about Rene. No, no, no, she did not do this. It's about Microsoft and the American government."

Before he closed the bathroom door he said, "all I wanted to do was take you to Pike Place to celebrate. The agency."

".…. which is what we'll do," Elizabeth said. "We'll be a happily married American couple. I'll paste on my vacuous Falls Church smile… for you. For Mother Russia…. for our country, Philip. That used to mean something."

She closed the door between them, but he could still hear: "and we won't have to worry about her, Rene." She paused and put her towel all around herself, "now leave me be."

FIRST RENE, THEN ALEXANDER YURIOVICH PETROV

Elizabeth sat alone at Pike Place watching as the fishmongers threw their bounty to the amusement of customers and tourists. She thought sadly, 'THIS was what the old Soviet Union had lost to?'

The 1990s saw the nuclear threat abate somewhat, the need for on-the-ground-in-America illegals to monitor chemical weapons to abate - all of that was history. For Elizabeth and Philip at least.

Now it was Mother Russia standing alone, losing the fraternal network of Soviet Socialist Republics. With the possible exception of Belarus, all the others had gone for their own independence. Some were even talking about joining the European Union, or (horrors!) NATO. Ukraine had been the most sobering, Elizabeth had thought. She said to herself, 'Ukraine IS Russia!'

In a sense, these were more dangerous times than even during the old Cuban Missle Crisis, more properly called Карибский кризис, or Karibskiy krizis, or the Caribbean Crisis. That's how she'd been briefed during her Directorate S training three decades previous.

Elizabeth remained seated even after Rene Beeman had left for her own business. Rene was still cautious when in Elizabeth's company - indeed the first thing she had said upon arriving had been, 'I suppose if I'm still alive, Elizabeth, that means you still need information from me. About Falls Church, about Stan. About what I'm doing here on the west coast. About how I can stay ahead of Stan and his beloved FBI. Believe you me, Elizabeth, when I feel comfortable enough to tell you, you will not have to suspend disbelief, not about me.'

The following was one of Elizabeth's embedded-secure messages to The Centre and Arkady Ivanovich Zotov about Rene. As she typed it up, readied it for upload to the Usenet group, she was not even particularly upset that Zotov was probably keeping information FROM her.

She understood her illegal's role, even in this new era.

It's apparent that she has some relationship with Russia, back home. She's not former-KGB. She's not Claudia, Gabriel, Leanne or Emmett, that's for sure. More like Gregory Thomas, except that Thomas clearly worked with us. He'd been my own recruitment. As per protocol, I will not do any analysis about Rene's affiliation back home - I will wait for instructions from The Centre. But she's American, she's not SVR. I suspect the only foreign country she's ever been to is Canada, and only north of here into Canada - Vancouver and Whistler for skiing. Her passion for the outdoors was no invention.

Re: her and FBI Special Agent Stan Beeman. Her former husband, is still in The Bureau out in D.C. As she put it, 'that was my last information.' She's mentioned nothing of a divorce, but is concerned that he would use FBI resources to find her. In applying counter-surveillance protocols in meeting her, neither Philip nor I detect anything. The FBI is not watching her.

If The Centre wishes to compromise her, she does attend evening dinner and drinks at a well-known women's/lesbian lounge in the city. Lesbianism itself, per se, is fast becoming less of a method of compromise, though, especially given the cultural shift out here on the west coast.

Is Rene Beeman a lesbian? I do not know. But I will continue to meet with her because of her ties to Redmond and Microsoft. Philip, he is making good progress with a senior manager with D.E. Shaw and Co. in New York, a hedge fund guy doing computer modeling. The guy was a vice-president of that hedge fund before he was 30. Philip says that this 'Bezos-guy' is out in Seattle scoping out internet start-up opportunities, close to the Redmond offices of Microsoft. Things seem to be happening fast, all of which The Centre needs to keep on top of.

More later.

OKAY, NOW TO ALEXANDER YURIOVICH PETROV

Thirty minutes following Rene's departure from Pike Place, Elizabeth spotted a well dressed, and obviously Slavic young man looking a little lost.

Elizabeth, she repeated her counter-surveillance scan of the busy market. But 'rote' still was not good enough, every time she did something like that in this, her second tour of duty - it grated on her that it was now anything but automatic - as it had been in the late 80's in Falls Church.

Either her five years in Moscow had dulled her skills, or she was getting old.

Probably a bit of both. But seeing the man finally recognizing her, and seeing no reason not to - she gave him the signal that it was safe to come and join her.

The other thing which both compromised her tradecraft skills, as well as added to the stress…. this was Alexander Yuriovich Petrov…. no, not a relative of Philip's…

This was Gabriel's nephew.

AYP: Hello, I am Alexander Yuriovich, but please call me Alex.

EMJ: It's good to meet you. - pause - Welcome to America.

AYP: I've only been here for a week. - surveying Pike Place, seeing fish thrown around - Is this what America is like?

EMJ: Don't judge America by Seattle. Go to Mississippi or Texas. That's America. I spent some time in Kansas.

AYP: Weren't you and your partner in the D.C. area? That's what I'd been told.

EMJ: No one should be talking like that. I'd appreciate it if you forgot anything about either me or my work partner.

AYP: Why? Russia and America, we're not adversaries any more. Me, I'm here as an emissary of President Yeltsin, to explore a new, capitalistic relationship with America. Whether it is with President Bush, or with that young man from Arkansas - to be honest, Russia is here, cap in hand, to places like Redmond…. Seattle is a technological 'watering hole', a phrase that there's no Russian equivalent.

EMJ: Well, neither me nor my partner are here for that. Let's just say that our presence is to make sure that America doesn't 'tilt the playing field' in their favour.

AYP: Yeltsin does not want us to be unconnected to their advantages….. so here I am.

- silence -

EMJ: … I also know that you are Semyon Andreyovich Petrov's nephew, from Sverdlovsk. He talked fondly of you.

AYP: I thought you would have know him as Gabriel, Gabriel Petrovich Beloszosky.

EMJ: I did. I loved that man. He took care of us. - pause - A source here said she 'knew what happened to Gabriel', that that knowledge was her 'insurance'. - pause - I've been asking, but no one from back home will tell me.

AYP: So you don't know.

EMJ: Don't know what?

AYP: That the Americans, their CIA, they murdered him. Right in Moscow, although that was never his home.

- silence -

EMJ: - emotionlessly - How?

AYP: Someone got access to his apartment, right in the Kremlin district. Brazen. Murderers. These are the people we're now friends with. These are the people I'm tasked to do business with.

It never occurred to Elizabeth to ask, neither Alex nor Zotov back at The Centre. Were the CIA gunning for her and Philip there on American soil? Presidential pardon or no presidential pardon. George H.W. Bush, he was pure CIA even as president!