Prologue Read Online Free Page B

panties and a loose T-shirt the heat pouring in her open bedroom window from the Dorchester street below immobilized her. She sat splayed on her bed, her laptop and IM3 decoder opened in front of her. For a moment she wondered if closing the window might provide relief, but rejected the idea.
The locals remarked that this was becoming one of Boston ’s hottest Julys in years. Yesterday, at the quaint Independence Day celebration and concert along the Charles River, the heat had been oppressive. She had asked Nigel to take her home even before the Boston Pops had performed their legendary rendition of the 1812 Overture to cascading fireworks, and the Overture was one of her favorite pieces-even though it had been co-opted by Americans in the Northeast District as some sort of stirring nostalgic reminiscence of past glory.
Natasha readjusted the search mode on the IM3 and continued hacking into Paul deVere’s computer files. The IM3 was the latest in Soviet computer intrusion technology, and it was making quick work of the clumsy passwords and trips that deVere, or more likely Lewis Ginter, had set. Despite the ease of intrusion, Natasha consistently came up as empty in her hacking efforts as she had in searching deVere’s office. In the eight weeks she had been in Boston she had gleaned zilch on deVere and his activities.
Computer hacking was not limited to Boston-heck, any agency operative could have hacked into most files from a cubicle in Yeltsengrad-but MIT had a closed circuit on-line file sharing system which required MIT access. The defense system wasn’t perfect but it did require an agent to be physically in the campus loop to achieve penetration. For Natasha, the MIT closed circuit on-line file system was not distressing. It had, after all, required her to be stationed in the Northeast District. Natasha sometimes found it hard to believe that only eight weeks ago she had hurried across the headquarters of the Central Agency in Yeltsengrad. Winner of a plum assignment in the Northeast District, she had had to report to Igor Rostov, now her handler.
She had found his building, his floor and his office and knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again. No answer. “Comrade Rostov?”
“Come in.”
She opened the door cautiously, peering around the frame into the dimly lit interior. Igor Rostov sat behind the desk staring at a computer screen. He didn’t look up when Natasha entered.
“Close the door.”
Natasha did, and walked toward the lone empty chair. The office surprised her; she had expected something more impressive. Even her own office was nicer.
“Sit.” Igor still had not taken his eyes off the screen.
Natasha sat. Igor typed something in the computer, closed the screen, then turned to face Natasha. “Tomorrow you leave for your new posting in Boston ,” he said.
“Yes sir.”
“First time in the Northeast District?”
“That’s right.”
Igor nodded. “MIT lab intern.”
“That’s right.”
“Excited, are you?”
“I’m happy to have the chance to serve my country.”
Igor snorted. “Oh, no doubt. You aren’t even thinking about the bars and nightclubs, cars, restaurants, clothing boutiques or the much higher standard of living than we have here in Yeltsengrad.”
“I’ve done my homework,” Natasha said simply.
“Of course,” Igor said, clasping his hands behind his head and leaning back. “I expect nothing less, considering how many agents apply for Northeast postings and how fierce the competition is for them. No doubt you’ve done your homework, and probably a few other things to get this posting.” He let his gaze move down to her chest.
“I believe I was chosen based on my qualifications,” she said, readjusting in her seat and hunching forward.
“That and the fact that you’re the best-looking agent we have.”
She glanced away.
“Best-looking smart agent, put it that way. Both assets will come in handy in the performance of your duty, Comrade Nikitin.”
“I