Chapter Forty-Eight
Things were not going well for Colonel Kostchenko, and the last 24 hours had been some of his worst. First it was the bungled accident on the bridge, and then the incident at dinner with the truck driver.
Perhaps the police who talked with him after the shooting were correct in their theory that the shot was just a freak accident, but he didn’t think so. If it had been the work of a sniper, what if he had been the target, but the shooter hit the wrong person? If that were the case, why would someone want to execute him? The scathing message he received from Moscow after he reported the incidents had done nothing to ease his morose feeling. The words “stupid” and “possible recall to Moscow for consultation” had made his mood even gloomier. In all his years in the KGB,
