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tell you
the truth, the report has me scared. More scared than I've been in a long time.
And you're looking at a man who's come through two world wars, like yourself.
But this ..." Truman broke off and shook his head. ""Hell, this
worries me even more than the Germans or the Japs did."
    There was a look of surprise on
Eisenhower's face. "You mean the source of the report is a Russian?"
    "An immigrant Russian, to be
precise."
    "Who?"
    "Ike, even I can't tell you that.
That's a matter for the CIA. But you'll know the first day you're sitting in
the Oval Office."
    "Then why let me read this report
now?"
    Truman took a deep breath, then stood up
slowly.
    "Because, Ike, I'd like you to be
prepared before you come into office. What you're going to be privy to doesn't
make for pleasant reading. There are some pretty disturbing things in there,
like I said, that scare the pants off me. And whether you like it or not, the
contents of the report are going to determine not only your presidency but a
hell of a lot else besides. Certainly the future course of this country, maybe
even the future course of the whole damned world."
    Eisenhower frowned. "It's that
serious?"
    "Ike, believe me, it's that
serious."
    The two men sat in the silence of the
Oval Office, Eisenhower reading from the manila-colored file, the cover and
each were marked in red lettering: "For President's Eyes Only." aged
Truman sat opposite, not in the President's chair, but on the small floral
couch by the window that faced the Washington Monument. His hands were resting
on his cane as he looked over at Eisenhower Is rubbery face. It was grave and
the generous wide lips were pursed.
    Finally, Eisenhower placed the report
gently on the coffee table. He stood and crossed restlessly to the window, hands
behind his back. In another five weeks he would inhabit the President's chair,
but suddenly the prospect seemed to hold less appeal for him. He put a hand to
his forehead and massaged his temples. Truman's voice brought him back.
    "Well, what do you think?"
    Eisenhower turned. Truman stared at him,
his glasses glinting in the strong light from the window.
    For a long time Eisenhower said nothing,
his face drawn. Then he shook his head. "Jesus, I don't know what to
think."
    He paused. "You trust the source of the
report?"
    Truman nodded firmly. "I damned well
do. No question. And I've had some independent experts brought in on this.
Non-CIA and all top-class people in their field. I wanted them to verify
everything you just read. They all agreed with the facts."
    Eisenhower took a deep breath. "Then
with respect, sir, the day I become President I'm walking into a goddamned mine
field."
    "I guess you are, Ike," Truman
replied, matter-of-factly. "And hell, I'm not being flippant. Just scared.
Damned scared.
    Truman stood and went over to the window.
There were dark rings under his eyes and his soft face looked troubled in the
harsh light, as if the strain of eight years in office was finally taking its
toll. Suddenly Harry Truman looked very old and very tired.
    "To tell the truth, maybe even more
scared than I was when I made the decision to drop the bombs on Hiroshima and
Nagasaki. This has even wider implications. Greater dangers."
    When he saw Eisenhower stare back at him,
Truman nodded gravely over toward the desk.
    "I really mean it, Ike. I'm glad
it's going to be a former five-star general sitting in that President's chair
and not me. Florida's going to be hot enough. Who the hell needs
Washington?"
    While the two men talked in the Oval
Office, four thousand miles away in Paris, France another man lay in the
darkened bedroom of a hotel on the boulevard Saint Germain.
    Rain drummed against the windows, a
downpour falling beyond the drawn curtains.
    The telephone rang beside the bed. He
picked it up. When he spoke he recognized the voice that answered.
    ' "It's Konstantine. It happens
Monday in Berlin. Everything's arranged, I want no mistakes."
    "There won't be." There