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there, as well as four women. He racked his brain now trying to match the voice with those he had seen in the lecture, but he drew a blank.
    â€œWe talked about his work,” Swanson said. “I was interested in his recent research with pesticides. I figured if it worked so well on Ukrainian bugs, why not Oregon bugs?”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd what?” Swanson started to turn but was stopped by a stiff object against the side of his face. It could have been a cane or an umbrella, or maybe even a gun. “What are you doing?”
    â€œI told you not to turn.”
    Swanson swiveled his head back and took another sip of his drink. “Listen, I don’t know what in the hell you want.”
    â€œYou got the money?”
    â€œYes, of course. But I thought that was for what we had discussed earlier. Showing favoritism is one thing...”
    â€œShut up. Not so loud.”
    Swanson hadn’t realized his voice had risen. “All right,” he whispered. “What can I do for you.”
    â€œThat’s more like it.” The man paused for a moment. “You have a man working for you. A Jake Adams. What does he know of all this?”
    Swanson was wondering what “all this” was. “Adams knows Odessa. We had heard that the Ukraine was going through growing pains. Was a little wild. When we got our Visas the state department had warned us that businessmen had been murdered. He’s here for security.”
    The man was silent, thinking about it. “What kind of background does he have?”
    What was with this man’s interest in Jake? What the hell difference did it make. He and Jake had been at each other’s throats since they met. “Air Force intelligence, I guess. He used to work here.”
    â€œThat’s it?”
    Swanson finished his drink. “Yes. As far as I know.”
    â€œWhy isn’t he here tonight with you? Protecting you.”
    Swanson laughed. “I thought it was stupid to hire him in the first place. A waste of money.”
    â€œCan I talk with him?” the man asked.
    â€œGo right ahead.”
    â€œWhere’s he staying?”
    â€œSame hotel as us. Across the hall. But—”
    â€œI’ll get back with you.” The man stood up. “As I pass you, turn and head to the bathroom. Don’t come out for two minutes. Don’t try to look at me. Do you understand?”
    â€œYes, but...” Swanson felt something across his back, so he rose quickly and went into the bathroom. He waited there for a good five minutes. When he came out, he talked with the bartender. Asked him what the man had looked like sitting next to him. The bartender thought he was nuts, but he described him carefully, as if he would never forget the man. Swanson felt good about that. He had outsmarted the man at his own game.

9
    Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Yuri Tvchenko collapsed into Jake’s arms, yet the Odessa police, who had ordered an immediate autopsy, had given no indication of the results of that examination. The problem was, there was no legitimate reason Jake should know the results and he knew it.
    He had tried to rest, tossing and turning in his hotel bed, uncertain what to do next. On one hand, he couldn’t help thinking about Tvchenko. What had he been up to? More importantly, perhaps, were his guilty feelings about MacCarty and Swanson. They were paying him to protect them, and he had been off all day looking into Tvchenko’s death. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to help the two men. On the plane trip over, he had briefed them on ways to keep from becoming targets. But once the three of them had actually landed, and the two of them had seen that the city wasn’t infested with ten-foot beasts, they figured they would be safe enough on their own. Jake had protested, relenting when he realized that the two men were adults; old enough to decide some things for themselves.
    It