Meanwhile, even further away....

"Sir, although it was before your time, I want to review the fiasco --"

He was interrupted by a cold-eyed figure. "Which fiasco? Which of the eternal fiascos am I being asked to review??? I am surrounded by fiascos!!!"

"Afghanistan, Sir".

"Oh, god of all the Russias. Not more rebels in mountains, please."

"Sir, you recall that when you were in East Germany ---" "I remember. I remember that I was able to get a halfdecent suit, and weekends off."

"Well, Sir. You will recall how the man known as the Professor talked Gorbachev into undermining Honecker so as to solve the Hungarian border problem -- "

"Of course, idiot. We tried to tell Mikhail that it was a trap, but would he listen, no. Twenty four hours later, crash, the Berlin Wall comes down. Why are you telling me my own miserable history? Do you not want to be head of the KGB? Do you want to be transferred to Murmansk?"

"No, sir. And we no longer call it the KGB. It is now the Democratic Information Resource Office. Well, some weeks ago, this shadowy figure called the Professor disappeared from his university, on a temporary sabbatical."

"You see, weekends off. I try and get a few days off in midAugust and what does it get me?"

"Sir, we believe that he went to Afghanistan. His sabbatical plan, which we were able to obtain by various means, speaks of research on a paper called: "Kim's Game: Early Environmental Landscape Narratives on the Northwest Frontier in the 19th Century Struggles between Russia and Britain". We believe that he linked up with an old friend of his, Ali Ali Inkomfree, ruler of the transAfghan heights, and has gone undercover as an unmade bedouin".

"Amusing in a quiet sort of way, Dmitri, but as we say in Moscow, we are not on Siberian time, yet."

"Ali Inkomfree is both immensely powerful and also romantically insatiable. We believe that he has fallen in love with an entire platoon of women who are battling the Taliban."

Vladimir Putin froze. "Do you -- do you -- do you mean?"

"Yes, Sir. Sgt. Kat and her Howling Mudcat Commandos."

He rose, his face red, screaming: "Why did no one tell me they were in Afghanistan!!!!"

The aides scurried around. Dmitri held his position.

"They have been captured by the Taliban, but we believe that the Taliban in turn have been infiltrated by Ali Incomfree and the Professor, as well as advance members of Colonel Rick Fury's M.U.D.C.A.T. Tactical Group, who earlier infiltrated the Howling Commandos -- there is a suspicious woman called Big Michelle about whom little is known."

Vladimir's eyes softened. He sat back down. "What are we doing about this on our side, Dmitri?"

Dmitri launched into a discussion of their own crack group, but Vladimir was already far away. The tinkle of music filled his mind, and he was back in the snowbound mansion, grayblue in deepest winter. A fire crackled, and he could smell the magic whiff of her stogie, and once again he held his beloved Sgt. Kat in his arms. She smiled at him as he went to work, and every once in a while she would comment on the state of the cobwebs on the ceiling. Happy longlost days. The balailaikas tinkled on for a few more seconds....

"And that, Mr. Premier, is what we will do. It will involve the International Space Station, and deceiving the Americans, but we believe we have no choice if the pipeline is not to be destroyed." Vladimir came back to attention.

"Thank you, Dmitri, thank you. How long have we got?"

"The rest of M.U.D.C.A.T. is being assembled by their leader. Twenty-four hours at most. We believe that Ali Inkomfree is negotiating with the Taliban to buy all the women for his harem, while the Taliban are deciding whether to turn them all into moussaka."

"And will Clinton keep his promise?"

"No, Mr. Premier. They have persuaded the American President to let them use Catspaw."

Putin put his head down in his hands. "He promised me, he promised me, he promised me." He began to weep softly, unconsoleably. The days when a Russian could threaten an American president were over. It was crushing, humiliating. Catspaw. His beloved Sgt. Kat in Afghanistan. It was going to be a long 21st century.