At 10:30pm, Robert knocked on Eva's door-three short knocks, three long ones, and three short ones-SOS.
"Come in," she said.
She was watching TV while lying on her stomach on the bed, her bare feet in the air.
"American TV is a lot more interesting than Russian TV."
He smiled. "I'm sure it is!" Then he grew serious. "I'm going to need you at 11:00; there is going to be a numbers broadcast on the shortwave, and I'd like to see if you can translate it."
"Ah, numbers broadcasts! OK, I will be there, Robert."
He closed the door and left.
At 10:55, there was a knock on John's door-the same SOS patter. He opened it. She was there-still barefooted.
The shortwave was on, otherworldly sounds emanating from it. A notepad and pencil were beside it.
She sat by the radio. At 11:00, a woman began reading numbers in Russian. She wrote on the notepad. He stood and watched her, but she gave him a silent signal that she wanted him to leave.
So, he left. He went into the living room and watched TV.
At 12:00, she met him. She presented him with a torn-out page from the notebook.
VODKA SENT TO LONDON. . . FISH ACTIVATED IN FRN. . . KILL EVA TESLOV
He read it, then looked at her. "I will protect you, Eva-I give you my word"
She nodded. "And I will protect you too, Robert."
"By the way, I know that voice."
This perked his interest. "You do?"
"A girl named Tatyana Ludmilla. We went to high school together."
"Well, I'm going to bed."
"I guess I should, too. Thanks, Eva."
"No problem, Robert."
She left. He cleaned up a bit and also left.