It wasn't that they weren't trustworthy. In fact, they seemed rather nice, in a commie sorta' way. I'm gonna have to stop thinkin' that way, Gregg raged. It was the fact that they were the enemy. What has this world come to? First, they tell him to go and fight the Russkies, then they want him to cooperate with 'em?!

This is nuts, The CIA field officer thought. No matter what happened with this damn war, his cover was blown. An entire identity was ruined, but that was the price you had to pay in this business.
Damn, he thought, why the hell couldn't I have stayed a dumass grunt? Oh well, he'd made this decision already, many a time, in fact. Black Hair, Brown Eyes, 6' 2", 180 pounds. His was the profile of about a fourth of every European man in the world. Gregg Henderson was the crème of the crop, or as some liked to put it, the best of the best of the best, sir!! He had started out as a young eager boy full of ideas and intrigue, then he was hit in the head with the proverbial brick.

It started as he entered basic training in the Army, to become one of those dumass grunts. His leadership talents were recognized immediately, which was perfectly fine with him, since he hated the life of the common soldier. He wanted to help his country, but not in that way. As he made his way through officers training, a recruiter of sorts noticed him, and well, he ended up at "The Farm", which is the training camp for field officers in the CIA. He was fast-tracked through, and given one of the hardest assignments available. Moscow. That one word could put fear into the heart of any respectable field officer, especially in this day and age. Gregg had handled it well. He thought.
That is precisely why he had been chosen for this assignment. Make contact with the Russian KGB, and begin cooperative ops against the Psychic Yuri. Well I'll be damned, he thought, not for the first time. There he was. Sergey Nikolayovich Romonov. Henderson knew him well, at least by reputation. He was the KGB's best counter intelligence officer since, well, ever. Does this man know what I've been up to for the last year? Henderson did not know the answer, nor would he ever.

There he was, Sergey thought. The man I've been trying to catch for the past eight months! He raged at himself for not having the ability to arrest him here and now. Maybe if Stalin were still in charge.....
But no, He was not, and Sergey had a mission. I actually have to cooperate with this Dog?! He thought. His next thought was that that dog probably was having the same thoughts as he. He wished, not for the first time, that he had been born a mind-reader. His job would be so much easier then. Oh well, if wishes were dimes.....