“Crap!” gasped Karl, as he fell to the floor.
With a loud “hork” sound, Max shoots a wad of salt and mucous from his nose directly into the face of Karl’s assailant.
“Gasp!” gasped Karl’s assailant as he stumbled back.
“Hundreds of KGB agents,” thought Karl as his mind begin to clear of the drug, “and they send a comedian after me.”
Karl rifled through the agent’s pockets, looking for any intelligence that might prove useful.
However, all he found were photos of nekkid women.
“Godless Commies,” muttered Karl as he gathered his possessions and Iguana to leave.
Just before we walked out the door, he stopped and scooped up all the pictures of nekkid women.
As karl glanced at the photos he was startled by one that appeared to be his twin sister, Imogene.
Max knew that no good could come from this development.
The Iguana gave out a tiny omniscient groan at his master’s thoughts.
Karl used a pillow to finish off the recovering KGB agent, and moved off into the night, towards the safe house on Wagner Strasse, and his case officer.
Karl shuddered as he thought of his case officer and all her 240 pound, angry former East German Olympic volleyball champion.
Maybe reunification wasn’t such a good idea after all he thought.
Karl walked in a random direction, for he must lose any tails before heading for the safehouse.
He suddenly heard screaching tires and a twanging guitar in the background – somebody in a late 70’s muscle car was gunning to run him down.
“This shit never happened to Harry Palmer,” muttered Karl as he dodged out of the way.
Max wondered why Karl had randomly had chosen to walk straight towards the safe-house- it did not seem a wise move in hindsight.
Max obviously didn’t read post 75. 
Max did read Post 75; but sadly Karl did not realize that a random direction still included the possibility of going in the SAME direction, Max knew that he would have chosen a Random direction AWAY from the Safehouse. 