Johnson rose again and walked over to the window in back of the Soviet agent. On this bright, sunny day the conversation seemed unreal to him. Staring out of the window he tried to keep his composure intact. The solid look of the buildings helped. They were real. The azure blue color of the sea surrounding Helsinki reminded him of the Texas gulf in the spring. They were on the second floor. He could see people below, walking rap¬idly, hurrying about their business. He envied them. He, the Vice President of the United States, would have changed placed with the poorest of them. Instinctively, Lyndon Johnson knew the purpose of the meeting. He hunched his huge shoulders, turned around and walked back to his chair. "You're right. Bob Kennedy would get me if I gave him a chance. They both hate me. Give them the information you have, and they will destroy me."

"Much more than destroy you politically, Mr. Johnson. You know, of course, of Mr. Kennedy's investigation into the affairs of a Robert Baker?"

"I know. He'll never make it there."

"You are wrong. He is going to succeed in opening up that affair. We know this, Mr. Johnson, because we're part of the process. When that happens, you not only will be destroyed politically, you will go to prison, which is exactly what Robert Kennedy and the President,, want. There is no escape, sir, if John Kennedy remains President of your country."

Johnson leaned forward, no longer nervous but hard, tough, a fighter. "What do you propose?"

Tsymbal poured tea then pinned the Vice President with his dark eyes. "I propose, sir, to assassinate President dent John F. Kennedy, thereby making you the President. That fact will solve your problems and many of ours."

Johnson never blinked an eye. "Where do I fit in?" The question represented complete surrender to the Russian.

"Your part is simple. The action is planned in every detail. You will not want to know those plans. We understand that the President will be in Dallas, Texas. You must give us the details of that trip. After the assassination we will expect you to arrange an investigation that keeps our government in the clear. For these small things, Mr. Johnson, we offer you the Presidency of the United States and your reputation."

Johnson's voice lowered in resignation. "Who gets that information?" "A Mr. Albert Osborne," the Russian answered triumphantly. "He will be at the Hilton Hotel in Dallas. Send it in a plain envelope so if it falls into the wrong hands, no one can trace it. On the upper left corner of the envelope write the name `Mason,' just that single word. After the action, call us on a secure line at the first possible moment, and we will have a plan for the coverup investigation. At that time, my friend, you will be the President of the United States."

Johnson nodded and stood up. "Mr. Tsymbal, it has been an important and useful meeting."

The Russian walked him to the door and held it open, speaking so that those in the outer office could hear. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Vice President. Please tell President Kennedy that Premier Khrushchev sends his best wishes."