"Has Kurt left already?" the old man asked."Yes," Eva replied, walking to the liquor cabinet and opening it. "I saw him off a few moments ago. Would y...u like a brandy?" That would be nice," Mozart agreed. "We can sit by the fire." That man in Prague," Eva said slowly, pouring two glasses while Mozart rose from his desk. "Did you know he was Russian cipher clerk? From the embassy?" Yes," Mozart answered. "Of course. Why?" I'm just curious." Eva looked over her shoulder. "What was it that he did. Unlike swimming, where my mind can wander, when I'm launching sharp projectiles at a target I have to both concentrate and relax, a combination it takes me time to assemble, given the mood I'm usually in. When I first start I'm a threat to everything in front of me, from low-flying planes to gophers under the grass. It doesn't really matter where the shots end up since each arrow carries some of the bad feelings down range where they're buried, usually in the grass at first. However, it's more. More

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