"Let's face it, Alex: you were the KGB's top assassin, and they paid you off. Just as we might. A cushy lieutenant-colonelcy in Tokyo, riding pour le sport, a yacht, your pick of Eurasian dolls ... Like? We can do you better in the USA, Alex—come on over, and bring your secrets with you."

That was FACE's pitch to the would-be defector, and it got results. Witness one hell of a nice courier slashed and dumped in a Tokyo alley.

Maybe Agent Pete Brook could make jolly Alex's dream come true. Except what did Krylov really long for in America: wine, women, and song—or a dramatic return to the murderer's trade?