“You’ve something on your mind,” he was told.
“That’s not the only reason I come to see you.”
This was dismissed for the irrelevance it was.
“It’s Lamb.”
“Jackson Lamb. What about him?”
“I think he’s lost his mind.”
The O.B. liked that, River could tell. Liked anything that offered the opportunity for psychological spelunking. And especially liked it when River bowled him a full toss: “An insight based on your rigorous medical training.”
“He’s turning paranoid.”
“If he’s only just done that, he’d not have survived this long. But you’re saying he’s surpassed himself. How’s this particular paranoia manifesting?”
“He seems to think there’s a KGB wet squad at large.”
The O.B. said, “Well, on the one hand, the KGB doesn’t exist any more. And the Cold War’s over. We won, if you’re keeping score.”
“I know. I Googled it.”
“But on the other, Russia’s President used to run the KGB, who are now the FSB by the way, and they may have changed the letterheads but they wear the same old boots.
— Dead Lions (Mick Herron), Loc. 1010–20
Same old boots indeed.