Starlitz twisted in his seat to stare at the slumbering terrorist. He envied theguy's deep sense of peace. It was hard to tell through the Ray-Bans, but thesmear of sweat on his balding forehead gave Raf a look of unfeigned ease.
Starlitz pondered the girl's latest remark. He had no idea why a college-agefemale Finn would claim to be commanding a 51-year-old veteran urban guerrilla.
"Why do you say that?" he said at last. This was usually a safe and usefulquestion.
The girl glanced in the rear-view. They were passing a sunstruck green park,with bronze statues of swaggering Finnish poets and mood-stricken Finnishdramatists. She took a comer with a squeak of tires. "Since you need a name,call me Aino."
"Okay. I'm Leggy... . Or Lekhi... . Or Keggae." He'd been getting a lot of"Reggae" lately. "The safe-house is in Ypsallina. You know that neighborhood?"Starlitz plucked a laminated tourist map from his shirt pocket. "TakeMannerheimintie up past the railway station."
"You're not Russian," Aino concluded.
"Nyet."
"Are you Organizatsiya?"
"I forget what you have to do to officially join the Russian mafia, butbasically, no."
"Why are you involved in the Alands operation? You don't look political."
Leggy found the lever beneath the passenger seat and leaned back a little,careful not to jostle the slumbering terrorist. "You're sure you want to hearabout that?"
"Of course I want to hear. Since we are working together."
"Okay. Have it your way. It's like this," Starlitz said. "I've been in Tokyoworking for an all-girl Japanese metal band. These girls made it pretty big andthey bought this disco downtown in Roppongi. I was managing the place... .