Croder looked at her. 'Are you a doctor?' 'Yes. There are two bullets, and a third wound. He needs to rest. He came out of a general anaesthesia an hour ago.' 'Can he handle protein yet?' 'Perhaps, in liquid form. But you are taking risks. He has lost blood, quite a lot, and so he is weak. The conditions were sterile but I cannot guarantee there will be no infection.' 'Have you any liquid protein?' Croder was into fast fluent Russian. 'I have chicken broth, yes.' 'Give him some, if you will.' I sat down on the crate again, sliding my back against the wall and feeling the left shoulder gradually coming to life. The room span slowly for a while and then Croder came back into focus, perched on the end of the bed. Zoya went out and he asked Bracken: 'What's security like in this place?' 'As good as you'll get,' he said, 'in Moscow. She even keeps weapons here.' 'We don't want those.' Croder looked back at me. 'I don't wish to press you, but I'd like your report on Schrenk. Just give me the salient points if you feel up to it.' There was still some fog in my head but I thought I could work out a summary. I took a minute and then said: 'He's gone half out of his mind. They roughed him up too much in Lubyanka. And he's Jewish. He's made some friends among the dissidents. He's out for revenge and he's rationalizing it, thinks he's crusading for the cause. Just my impressions.' I had to wait for a bit because I was out of breath. Croder watched me, still as a reptile, his black eyes brooding. 'Don't hurry,' he said. 'He blew me off the street. He said he had to get me out of his way, didn't want anyone to know where he was, wants to be left alone.' I tried to remember what else Schrenk had said, with the cigarette smoke curling past his narrowed bloodshot eyes and his body twisted to face me. 'He said there's only one thing the bastards will listen to, by which he meant it was no good just protesting against oppression. I'd say there's something he wants to do, and very badly. I'd say he's become a dangerous fanatic.' I stopped again to get my breath. 'Something else. He said "Moscow needs me." I was trying to talk him into pulling out with us, and that was his answer. Degree of megalomania, I suppose.' 'Do you think so?' asked Croder. I thought about it. 'It's hard to say. I mean he's still a very capable operator. He could do a lot of damage if he wanted to.' 'Quite so.' Then the door opened and we all looked round. It was Zoya. 'Bracken,' I said. 'Does Schrenk know this address?' 'No. Don't worry.' All very well. Schrenk had just blown Gorsky's safe-house and if he knew about this one he'd send in the KGB and there'd be nothing we could do: they'd get the London director, the director in the field and the executive all in one bag. It didn't bear thinking about. Zoya had brough me a can of self-heating soup, US Army issue, God knew where she'd got it from. She poured it into a thick white cup and gave it to me. 'Would you say,' Croder asked in his cold thin tones, 'that Schrenk has got a cell together?' 'Possibly. There's this man Ignatov, and he mentioned two other people, Boris and Dmitriy. It's either a cell or some kind of wildcat group of revolutionary dissidents.' Croder said nothing for a moment, then began speaking in formal Russian to Zoya. 'You did a splendid job with this man's injuries - I should have mentioned it before. I'm most indebted to you, Doctor.' 'It was good to work again.' He gave a slight bow. 'Now if you'll excuse us, we have to debrief him.' 'I understand.' She looked at me critically as she turned to leave. 'Take care of him, please. He is still weak.' She took away the self-heating can and quietly closed the door. Croder sat with his head half-turned, listening to her footsteps growing fainter along the passage. Then he swung round to look at me. 'I want to get a picture of Schrenk in my mind, as clearly as you can give it. Would you say he's totally unbalanced by his experiences in Lubyanka? Do you feel his imagination has run wild and that he sees