It was going to be distinctly tricky because there wouldn't be much traffic to afford cover; there'd be nothing on the streets at this hour except for police, military, or Foreign Aid Service transport. There were some lights crossing the intersection at 136 Street now, but I couldn't see what kind of vehicle they belonged to.

The agent was armed. I'd seen him adjust the holster strap under his jacket when he'd got up from his table in the restaurant.

The Chevrolet was in motion now, pulling away from the kerb. The Zhiguli started up but didn't move until the target vehicle was nearing the intersection; then it made its U-turn and took up the tag. I waited ten seconds and fell in behind at a distance of fifty yards with the lights off, turning at the intersection and rounding the Central Market and taking a side street parallel with theirs, gunning up quite a lot to come abreast until I could see their lights and keep station.

There was a problem after a minute or two because the streets converged and I was directly behind the Zhiguli again and none too distant. I'd switched on my lights when some other vehicles had shown up — two military jeeps and a van with Catholic Mission on the side — but they were out again now. The Chevrolet had taken a couple of side streets as a matter of routine and come back to the main thoroughfare — a government driver would know the rudiments of evasive action and this one might even suspect the Zhiguli by this time — and we were keeping station roughly two intersections apart, and it was now that I saw the gun.