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By contrast, Smiths house looked vacant, brooding. It was, Beria thought, the house of a man who lives alone and prefers it that way, whose work demands solitude and secrecy. Such a house would have a far more sophisticated--- and deadly--- warning system than anything Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes advertised by the security company patches fig preserves recipes

the doors of the other homes. I have seen enough, he told the driver. We will come back tomorrow morning. Now, a few minutes after nine oclock in the next morning, Beria was in the backseat of the Lincoln as it Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes idled at the far corner of Smiths street. The driver was standing free drink recipes

smoking. To passing joggers and dog walkers, he appeared to be waiting for a client. In the cool stillness of the interior, Beria reviewed all the information on Smith. His principal wanted the American Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes doctor out of the way quickly. But there were obstacles. Smith did not go to an office. His healthy hamburger recipes

appeared to have good security. Therefore, the execution would have to be done out in the open, wherever an opportunity presented itself. Another problem was the unpredictability Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes of Smiths movements once he was outside his home. He had no set schedule, so the principal could not say where he would be smoking beef brisket recipes

any given time. This meant that Beria had to follow Smith as closely as possible and look for an opening. Working Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes in his favor was the fact that the American did not have an escort, did not--- as far as the principal knew--- carry a weapon. Most important, he had no fig preserves recipes

that he was in any kind of danger. Beria checked his watch; forty-five minutes had Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes elapsed since hed arrived. The Lincoln listed as the driver got back behind the wheel. Smiths coming out. Beria looked through the windshield down the street where a navy blue sedan was backing out of a garage. According easy fish recipes

the principal, this was Smiths vehicle. And we begin, Beria Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes said softly. As Smith drove into the city, he constantly checked his mirrors. After a few miles he tagged the black Lincoln that changed lanes whenever he did. He called Kirov on the cell. Its the Lincoln from the airport. On my tail. I fig preserves recipes

Berias nibbling. Im ready, Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes Kirov assured him. Breaking for a light, Smith checked his rearview. The Lincoln was still three cars back. Once in the city, Smith drove as fast as traffic permitted, changing lanes, leaning on his horn. He hoped Beria would buy the image of a man late for Buttermilk Bar Cookie Recipes an important appointment, a cold summer appetizer recipes

preoccupied, his guard down, easy prey. He wanted the assassin to focus on him to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. That way, he would never see Kirov coming. Hes in a hu.

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