My first job out of graduate school in the 1980s landed me in the middle of the Cold War, though I seemed blissfully unaware of it at the time. As a journalist living and working in Vienna, my job took me to Prague several times from 1986 to 1989 and straight into the clutches of my translator and friend Arnold, a local Czech "fixer" whose job (at least I thought) was to help me set up interviews and report on developments in Czechoslovakia. Apparently, he had a different assignment. Below is Part 2 of my story — and his — from those old days. The last section, Part 3, will follow in a future post. If you haven't read Part 1 yet, please start here.