MAY. UNEXPECTEDLY AND unseasonably， the tem-<br > perature soared. Suddenly the earth was flooded with soft<br > shoots and walls came alive in a patchwork of yellows， blues，<br > pinks， and greens.<br > As summe~ cascaded briefly， Moscow became a swelter-<br > ing island in a ~sea of torrid air. KGB Headquarters， which<br > could talk to sat~lites， had no air conditioning. In the Emer-<br > gency Center， Captain Yuri Raikin， recently involuntarily<br > repatriated to Moscow and compulsorily assigned to the Sec-<br > ond Chlof Directorate s Political Security Service--the Sluzbha<br > ---sat before a flagged map of Moscow and sweated.<br > Red flags for arrests， green for surveillance， yellow for<br > patrols， purple for reserves. That afternoon Moscow looked as<br > ff it were inundated with greeratly.<br > Yuri Raikin was twenty-six years old， with a high-<br > cheekboned Russian face and narrow， close-set eyes that he<br > thought made him look like a bandit. His body was uncharac-<br > teristically lean， fined down not underfed， the leanness em-<br >phasizing a swimmer s breadth of shoulder. Like the face， the<br >body tapered. It was clad in a gray Marks & Spencer suit.<br >From its lapel there dangled the ribbon of the Order of the<br >Red Banner.<br > He brushed a strand of damp hair from his eyes and<br >looked across the desk to where Sergeant Pavel Pashehenko<br >sat before banks of radio switches and a console that could be<br >used to reroute Moscow s traffic， direct fire brigade and army<br >antis， and contro! the airspace for forty miles around the city.<br > 1<br ><br >
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