The Foreign Hand Tie

From Istanbul, in Turkish Thrace, to Moscow, U.S.S.R., is only a couple of hours outing for a round trip in a fast jet plane--a shade less than eleven hundred miles in a beeline.

Raphael Poe blinked his eyes open. The moon was shining through the dirty windows of the dingy little room that was all he could call home--for a while, at least. Outside the wi...

Sonya Borisovna sat bolt upright in her chair, staring at the blank wall again. "Why am I thinking such nonsense?" she said aloud. "And why should I be thinking in English?" Whe...