"Let's face it, Alex: you were the KGB's top assassin, and they paid you off. Just as we might. A cushy lieutenant-colonelcy in Tokyo, riding pour le sport , a yacht, your pick of Eurasian dolls … Like? We can do you better in the USA, Alex—come on over, and bring your secrets with you." That was FACE's pitch to the would-be defector, and it got results. Witness one hell of a nice courier slashed and dumped in a Tokyo alley. Maybe Agent Pete Brook could make jolly Alex's dream come true. Except what did Krylov really long for in America: wine, women, and song—or a dramatic return to the murderer's trade?