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was a
pause, and then the man heard the bitterness in the caller's voice.
    "Send him to hell, Alex. Send the
butcher to hell."
    Soviet-Finnish border. October 23rd Just
after midnight the snow had stopped and she lay in the cottony silence of the
woods, listening to her heart beating in her ears like the flutter of wild
wings. She was cold.
    Her clothes were soaked through and her
hair was damp and she was aware of the icy sweat on her face. She was more
tired than she had ever been in her life, and suddenly she wanted it to be
over.
    For the past hour now she had watched the
sentry hut beside the narrow metal bridge that ran across the frozen river.
Every now and then she rubbed her limbs, trying to get warm, but it was no use,
she was chilled to her bones, and she longed for warmth and for a final end to
the exhaustion. Her uniform coat was covered in frost and snow, and as she lay
in the narrow gully behind the bank of fir trees she tried not to think of the
past, only the future that lay beyond the narrow metal bridge.
    She could see the two guards on the
Russian side, standing by the small wooden sentry hut, their breaths fogging in
the freezing air as they paced up and down. One of them had a rifle slung over
his shoulder; the other a machine-pistol draped across his chest. The two men
were talking but she couldn't hear their words, only a soft babble of voices.
    There was a wooden guardhouse off to the
left, forty meters away, a bank of fir trees beside it, the branches sugared
with snow. A light was on inside, a plume of wood smoke curling into the
freezing air. She knew that was where the other guards would be resting off
duty, but for over half an hour now no one had moved in or out of the warmth of
the guardhouse, only shadows flitting in and out of the yellow light behind the
frosted glass. OD the metal bridge, electric light blazed from arc lamps in the
trees overhead and the red-and-white barrier poles were down at both ends.
    She thought she could see the lights of
Finland through the trees but she wasn't sure, for there was a flood of light
on the Finnish side of the border, and more guards, but this time in gray
overcoats and uniforms.
    She saw a sudden movement and her eyes
went back to the Russian side. The guard with the rifle stepped into the tiny
sentry hut while the other moved into the trees, unbuttoning his fly to relieve
himself.
    Her body shivered now, knowing what she
had to do, knowing that if she didn't move soon she would freeze to death, the
icy cold gnawing deep into her bones. She rolled over in the snow and her
gloved hand searched in the leather holster and she found the cold butt of the Na
gant revolver.
    She rolled back slowly and looked over at
the guard urinating. She knew this was her moment and she took a deep breath.
She stood and her legs trembled with fear. As she came out from behind the
cover of the trees, she slipped the weapon into the pocket of her overcoat.
    She was down at the sentry hut before she
knew it and she saw the guard with the machine-pistol button his trousers and
turn abruptly. He stared at her as if she were a ghost.
    What he saw was a young woman coming
toward him. Her captain's overcoat with green epaulettes and her officer's
winter hat looked a size too big, her clothes covered in a rime of frost and
snow. Her dark eyes were sunk in their sockets and her lips were cracked from
the cold.
    For a moment he seemed unsure of himself,
as if sensing something was wrong, and then he said, "I'm sorry, Captain,
but this is a restricted area. Your papers, comrade."
    As the guard unslung his machine-gun, he
stared suspiciously at the young woman's face, but he didn't see the Na gant
revolver and that was his mistake.
    It exploded twice, hitting him in the
chest, sending him flying backward. The air came alive with the noise, and
birds shrieked as they flew from the forest branches. Moments later the second
guard came running out of the sentry hut.
    The woman fired,