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d a very direct way of dealing with people it didn't like。 CIA did not。 They hadn't actually killed anyone since the fifties； when President Eisenhower had used CIA…actually quite skillfully…as an alternative to employing uniformed troops in an overt fashion。 But that skill hadn't been conveyed to the Kennedy Administration； which had screwed up nearly everything it touched。 Too many James Bond books； probably。 Everything in fiction was simpler than the real world； even fiction written by a former field spook。 In the real world； zipping your zipper could be hard。
But he was planning a fairly plex operation and telling himself that it wasn't all that plex。 Was he making a mistake？ Foley's mind wandered while the rest of his consciousness slept。 Even asleep； he kept going over and over things。 In his dreams； he saw rabbits running around a green field while foxes and bears watched。 The predators didn't move on them； perhaps because they were too fast and/or too close to their rabbit holes for them to waste a chase。 But what happened when the rabbits got too far away from their holes？ Then the foxes could catch them； and the bears could move in to swallow them whole。。。 And his job was to protect the little bunnies； wasn't it？
Even so； in his dream the foxes and bears just watched while he； the eagle； circled high and looked down。 He； the eagle； had sworn off rabbits； though a fox might be a nice morsel to rip apart； if his talons got it properly； just behind the head to snap the neck； and leave him for the bear to eat； because bears didn't really care whom they ate。 No； Mr。 Bear didn't care one little bit。 He was just a big old bear； and his belly was always empty。 He'd even eat an eagle if he got the chance； but the eagle was too swift and too smart； wasn't he？ Only so long as he kept his eyes open； the noble eagle told himself； he had great abilities and fine sight； but even he had to be careful。 And so the eagle soared aloft； riding the thermals and watching。 He couldn't enter the fray； exactly。 At most； he could swoop down and warn the cute little bunnies that there was danger about； but the bunnies were proverbially dumb bunnies； munching their grass and not looking around as much as they ought to。 That was his job； the noble eagle told himself； to use his superb eyesight to make sure he knew everything he needed to know。 The bunny's job was to run when he needed to run； and with help from the eagle； to run to a different field； one without foxes and bears around it； so that he could be free to raise more cute little bunnies and live happily ever after； like Beatrix Potter's little Flopsy； Mopsy； and Cotton…tail。
Foley rolled over； and the dream ended； the eagle watching for danger； and the rabbits eating their grass； and the foxes and bears a good way off； just watching but not moving； because they didn't know which bunny would stray too far from its safe little hole。
The alarm clock's deliberately annoying buzz caused Foley's eyes to snap open； and he rolled over to switch it off。 Then he jerked himself out of bed and into the bathroom。 He suddenly missed his house in Virginia。 It had more than one bathroom…two and a half； in fact； which allowed some degree of flexibility should an emergency occur。 Little Eddie got up when summoned； then almost immediately sat on the floor in front of the TV set and called out 〃Worker…womannnn！〃 when the exercise show came on。 That generated a smile from his mom and dad。 Even the KGB guys on the other end of the bug wires probably had a little chuckle at that。
〃Anything important planned for the office today？〃 Mary Pat asked in the kitchen。
〃Well； ought to be the usual weekend traffic from Washington。 I have to run over to the Brit Embassy before lunch。〃
〃Oh？ What for？〃 his wife asked。
〃I want to stop over and see Nigel Haydock about a couple of things；〃 he told her； as she set the bacon frying。 Mary Pat always did bacon and eggs on the day of important spook work。 He wondered if their KGB listeners would ever tumble to that。 Probably not。 Nobody was that thorough； and American eating habits probably interested them only insofar as foreigners usually ate better than Russians。
〃Well； say hello for me。〃
〃Right。〃 He yawned and took a sip of coffee。
〃We need to have them over…maybe next weekend？〃
〃Works for me。 Roast beef and the usual？〃
〃Yeah； I'll try to get some frozen corn on the cob。〃 Russians grew corn you could buy in the open farmers' markets； and it was okay； but it wasn't the Silver Queen that they'd e to love in Virginia。 So they usually settled for the frozen corn the Air Force flew in from Rhein…Main； along with the Chicago Red hot dogs that they served in the embassy canteen and all the other tastes of home that became so important on a posting like this one。 It was probably just as true in Paris； Ed thought。 Breakfast went quickly； and half an hour later； he was almost dressed。
〃Which tie today； honey？〃
〃Well； in Russia； you should wear red once in a while；〃 she said； handing the tie over with a wink； along with the lucky silver tie bar。
〃Um…hmm；〃 he agreed； looking in the mirror to snug it into his collar。 〃Well； here is Edward Foley； Senior； foreign…service officer。〃
〃Works for me； honey。〃 She kissed him； a little loudly。
〃Bye； Daddy；〃 Junior said as his father headed for the door。 A high five instead of a kiss。 He'd gotten a little too old for the sissy stuff。
The rest of the trip was stultifyingly routine。 Walk to the metro。 Buy his paper at the kiosk and catch the exact same train for the same five…kopeck fare； because if he caught the same one going home； so as to be marked by KGB as a creature of strict routine； then he had to mirror…image morning and afternoon habits。 At the embassy； he entered his office and waited for Mike Russell to bring in the morning message traffic。 More than usual； he saw at once； flipping through the messages and checking the headers。
〃Anything about what we talked about？〃 the munications officer asked； lingering for a moment。
〃Doesn't look like it；〃 Foley replied。 〃Got you a little torqued？〃
〃Ed； getting secure stuff in and out is my only job； y'know？〃
〃Look at it from my side； Mike。 If they tumble to me； I'm as useless as tits on a boarhog。 Not to mention the guys who get killed because of it。〃
〃Yeah； I hear you。〃 Russell paused。 〃I just can't believe they can crack my systems； Ed。 Like you said； you'd be losing people left and right。〃
〃I want to agree with you； but we can't be too careful； can we？〃
〃Roger that； man。 I catch anybody dicking around in my shop； they won't live long enough to talk to the FBI；〃 he promised darkly。
〃Don't get too carried away。〃
〃Ed； when I was in Vietnam； nonsecure signals got soldiers killed。 That's as important as things get； y'know？〃
〃If I hear anything； I'll make sure you know about it； Mike。〃
〃Okay。〃 Russell headed out； not quite trailing smoke out of his ears。
Foley organized his message traffic…it was addressed to the Chief of Station； of course； not to anyone's name…and started reading through it。 There was still concern about KGB and the Pope； but； aside from the Rabbit； he had nothing new to report； and it was only hope that told him the Flopsy had anything to report on that subject。 A lot of interest in last week's Politburo meeting； but for that he'd have to wait for his sources to report in。 Questions about Leonid Brezhnev's health； but while they knew the names of his physicians…a whole team of them…none of them talked to CIA directly。 You could see the picture on TV and know that Leonid Ilyich wasn't going to be running the marathon in the next Olympics。 But people like that could linger for years； good news and bad news。 Brezhnev wasn't going to be doing anything new and different； but； as he became increasingly irrational； there was no telling what dumbass things he might try…damned sure he wasn't going to be pulling out of Afghanistan。 He didn't care a rap about the lives of young Russian soldiers； not when he heard Death's footsteps approaching his own door。 The succession was of interest to CIA； but it was fairly settled that Yuriy Vladimirovich Andropov would be the next guy at th