Why couldn’t he be issued a cellular phone, like everybody else? His cousin had a cell phone. A lovely hi tech model that could connect with the internet and even allow him to watch videos and listen to music. But then, cousin Vassily worked in the Black Market, and besides always having sufficient money to have a nice apartment in one of the better buildings, not too far from the Kremlin, he also was driving a nice car, some sleek, shiny thing from Germany. Anton still had to rely on the subway, which was getting more and more problematical with each passing day. And he still had this black lump of a telephone. With the department functioning on such a ridiculously small budget, that cellphone didn’t seem ever likely to happen.I should have gone into business with Vassily, he told himself again as he reached for the heavy, awkward handset and lifted it from its cradle.“License Department,” he said flatly, already irritated by whatever new load of work was about to be dumped on him.“Anton Palyakoff, please,”
