Yet Natalie Holt, a staffer of some sort in the State Department, had agreed to go out with him. He had first seen her at a party at the Russian embassy and watched from a discreet distance as a small horde of real military and diplomatic types had fawned and fussed over her. And why not? She was tall, dark-haired, lithe, intelligent, wide-eyed, lovely, educated, and doubtless unattainable.

He had managed an introduction and struck up a brief conversation. That one talk led to a longer one and, in ensuing weeks, a number of casual dutch treat lunches that she seemed to enjoy. Her apparent pleasure made him ecstatic. He realized he had a crush on her. They had found common ground in their mutual expertise on Russia, and he was delighted to realize that someone as lovely as she could be so intelligent and educated.

The lunches were followed by an offer to take her out on a real date, which, to Steve’s astonishment, she accepted. So why the hell did she want to see a Laurel and Hardy film? Because, she had answered, it made her happy and these times were so gloomy that she sometimes needed something silly to lift her spirits. Silly like going out with him, he wondered, and banished the idea. He was slipping off his tie when the phone rang.

“Lieutenant Colonel Burke,” he answered, still uncomfortable with the title the army had conferred on him. A mature woman’s voice asked if he could confirm that he was indeed the Lieutenant Colonel Steven Burke of the Russian Section of the War Plans department, and he assured her he was. She then informed him that General Marshall would like to see him immediately.

“Which General Marshall would that be?” he asked innocently. There were a lot of generals in Washington, D.C.