--It’s a beautiful evening. Want to sit on the patio? --You go ahead. --What’s wrong? --No, go on ahead, I’m fine. I just want to sit here. --Come on, fess up. What’s wrong? --“Fess up.” That’s an apt phrase. Eleven Russians were arrested for spying this week. The cold war ended twenty years ago, but they were ordered to maintain their deep-cover mole status anyway. --I read about it. They were all posing as suburbanites. --The FBI’s been tracking them for seven years. Seven years, Barbara. --So what? You thought the Russkies just Fed-Xed all their spycams and shotgun mics back to Moscow? Their wigs and fake beards? --Apparently, they never learned anything to pass along. --Well, isn’t that a good thing? --One of them tried to buy a cell phone. She gave her address as Fake Street. That’s how the crack FBI operatives nabbed her. The only reason the Bureau sprang into action is because one of the others bought a one-way ticket to Cyprus. You can’t invest seven years of taxpayers’ money o