The dacha of Leonid Shvernik was in the vicinity of Petrodvorets on the Gulf of Finland, about eighteen miles from Leningrad proper. It would have been called a summer bungalow in the States. On the rustic side. Three bedrooms, a moderately large living-dining room, kitchen, bath, even a car port. Paul Koslov took a mild satisfaction in deciding that an American in Shvernik's equivalent job could have afforded more of a place than this. Shvernik was saying, "I hope it never gets to the point where you have to go on the run. If it does, this house is a center of our activities. At any time you can find clothing here, weapons, money, food. Even a small boat on the waterfront. It would be possible, though difficult, to reach Finland." "Right," Paul said. "Let's hope there'll never be occasion." Inside, they sat around a small table, over the inevitable bottle of vodka and cigarettes, and later coffee. Shvernik said, "Thus far we've rambled around hurriedly on a dozen subjects but now we must become definite." Paul nodded. "You come to us and say you represent the West and that you wish to help overthrow the Soviets. Fine. How do we know you do not actually represent the KGB or possibly the MVD?" Paul said, "I'll have to prove otherwise by actions." He came to his feet and, ignoring Ana, pulled out his shirt tail, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pants and unbuckled the money belt beneath. He said, "We have no idea what items you'll be wanting from us in the way of equipment, but as you said earlier all revolutions need money. So here's the equivalent of a hundred thousand American dollars--in rubles, of course." He added apologetically, "The smallness of the amount is due to bulk. Your Soviet money doesn't come in sufficiently high denominations for a single person to carry really large amounts." He tossed the money belt to the table, rearranged his clothing and returned to his chair. Shvernik said, "A beginning, but I am still of the opinion that we should not introduce you to any other members of the organization until we have more definite proof of your background." "That's reasonable," Paul agreed. "Now what else?" Shvernik scowled at him. "You claim you are an American but you speak as good Russian as I do." "I was raised in America," Paul said, "but I never became a citizen because of some minor technicality while I was a boy. After I reached adulthood and first began working for the government, it was decided that it might be better, due to my type of specialization, that I continue to remain legally not an American." "But actually you are Russian?" "I was born here in Leningrad," Paul said evenly. Ana leaned forward, "Why then, actually, you're a traitor to Russia." Paul laughed. "Look who's talking. A leader of the underground." Ana wasn't amused. "But there is a difference in motivation. I fight to improve my country. You fight for the United States and the West."