I turned around, went out into the kitchen, wrenched open the door to the basement and headed down the stairs without turning on the lights.Cool moist...air greeted me at the bottom. I rummaged thru the tall wine racks that lined the near wall until I located the one I was after, one I'd stashed there almost two years before. A gift from a previous Russian ambassador. One hundred and twenty proof peppered vodka from Kiev.I broke the sealing wax from around the neck, pulled the cork using the. "Butby golly, I'm going to find out who did this to me and why."Although she had some practice walking with measured, chained steps- every night her boyfriend would watch admiringly as she walked about thebedroom, down the hallway, into the kitchen or bathroom and back -- by thetime she had taken three steps to the driver-side front fender she was pantingwith fright and excitement. These new chains felt different from those she wore every night to bed andduring her off-duty weekends. They just. More

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