Red Star Falling: A Thriller (40 page)

The woman regarded him steadily for several moments. ‘What’s he said about me?’

Goody shook his head in refusal again. ‘What I can tell you is that Maxim Mikhailovich Radtsic … is not a colleague upon whom you can rely for loyalty. But as I don’t believe I’m brave enough to do what you and Radtsic—’

‘Demin,’ burst in Irena. ‘The bastard’s name is Yuri Georgevich Demin and I argued against his inclusion from the very beginning!’

‘I give you my word that I’ll do all I can to prevent everything being laid at your door,’ promised Goody.

He managed to reach Aubrey Smith on a secure line from the West Sussex safe house just before the Director-General went into the Foreign Office meeting.

*   *   *

On a day of surprises the further unexpected was the inclusion of Mort Bering and Barry Elliott in the hurriedly assembled group. Both Americans were already in the room when Aubrey Smith and Jane entered. Elliott was prepared but Jane wasn’t and Smith admired her totally unruffled composure, easily reciprocating Elliott’s smiled nod, suspecting as he watched the exchange that Rebecca Street, also already there, was the more disconcerted of the two women. Rebecca sat apart from the two newcomers, her blotter already assembled with jotter and pens as it always had been when she accompanied Monsford. There was a large-screen television positioned conveniently for everyone to see, to the woman’s left a security-cleared technician in readiness.

Sir Archibald Bland opened the session without any explanation of the FBI presence, called the preceding twelve hours bewildering, and with a nod to Rebecca said the established chronological presentation would be maintained.

Rebecca began hesitantly, unsettled not just by the Americans but by Bland’s apparent urgency. She’d requested the meeting because of the international implications of disclosures promised earlier that morning by Maxim Radtsic. There was a filmed record but in summary Radtsic was promising to detail the exacerbating FSB intrusion into 2008’s near-total global financial collapse, an operation from which Moscow had profited by billions and which had established Russia’s future intended intelligence target to be the destabilization of world economies.

‘I’d like now…’ she tried to continue, turning to the waiting technician, but Aubrey Smith said, ‘I think I should intervene here. There’s no point in watching any more film or listening to anything more of what Maxim Radtsic wants to tell us. He’s a planted impostor, a phoney, like his name and everything he’s ever told us.’

It took almost three hours for Jane to play and replay the Belmarsh CCTV ahead of that morning’s film of Natalia Fedova identifying the hand-signal cryptograph. Jane studiously avoided directing her attention towards Elliott, although she savoured the thought of his upon her, but early in the presentation became aware of Rebecca’s stone-faced concentration at being so cursorily dismissed by Aubrey Smith.

‘So what’s it say, this code!’ demanded Rebecca, the moment the transmission finished.

‘We don’t know, not yet,’ admitted Aubrey Smith, taking over from Jane. ‘But GCHQ are confident enough that it
is
a code. They’ve had less than twenty-four hours to decipher it.’

‘So it’s not positively confirmed to
be
one, not yet?’ persisted Rebecca.

‘Not by GCHQ,’ conceded Smith, recognizing the woman’s irritation. Allowing the condescension, he went on, ‘But we definitely know it is a code. Irena Novikov’s interrogator, Joe Goody, copied some of the movements and bluffed her after watching what you’ve just seen: conned her into thinking Radtsic had somehow been caught out or made a mistake and broken down. Radtsic’s real name, according to Irena, is Yuri Georgevich Demin.’

Rebecca eased back into her seat, totally rebuffed. Jane was surprised at Smith’s ruthlessness, another newly emerged trait she wished he hadn’t chosen that moment to demonstrate.

Mort Bering said, ‘You guys have done damned well in the time you’ve had. I’d like to bring some of our cryptologists in on the decoding.’

‘You’re welcome,’ accepted Smith, without consulting either co-chairman.

‘Yes, of course. There’s no objection at this late stage to it becoming a joint operation,’ hurriedly agreed Palmer. ‘But what’s your interpretation of it all?’

Smith only just held back the sigh. ‘I don’t have an interpretation. I know the people we knew as Maxim Radtsic and Irena Novikov are not the genuine defectors we took them to be and I know that Radtsic communicated with other Russians. That’s as far as I’ve got.’

‘What about the other gal, Natalia?’ insisted Bering. ‘What’s her part in all this?’

‘She hasn’t got one, not in the deception,’ came in Jane, defensively. ‘It was Natalia who told us it wasn’t the real Radtsic, not Irena. And it was Natalia who spotted the hand code: it’s FSB tradecraft, apparently.’

‘I think, at last, that we might be ahead in this mess,’ said Bland, briskly. ‘How do you propose we take it forward?’

‘By letting Joe Goody loose on Radtsic—I suggest we stay with the name we’re familiar with, for the sake of easy understanding—knowing now that the man’s a phoney,’ said Smith.

‘I’m debriefing Radtsic,’ broke in Rebecca, too quickly.

‘No you’re not,’ rejected Smith, at once. ‘You’re being conned—until now we’ve all been conned—by the man. Joe’s a professional interrogator, the best my service has got. You’re not: he’d go on trying to use you and we haven’t got time for that. I want to play one off against the other. Their treating us like fools has ended. Now it’s our turn and that’s what’s going to happen to them: they’re going to be turned like pigs on a spit when we decipher the tictac sleight of hand. It also means, Ms Street, that you can return to MI6 and my deputy can come back to her position in my service.’

‘Obviously sensible, all the way round,’ decreed Bland, bustling on. ‘What else?’

‘I can’t see any way Radtsic could have learned the location of his safe house, nor that of the Novikov woman, but I’ve already drafted in additional personnel to guard against their disclosure in that code we still can’t read—’

‘Do you seriously believe the Russians might physically attempt to get to both of them … take them back to Russia?’ stopped Palmer.

‘I seriously believe if they knew where either were—and believed their covers blown—that the Russians would attempt their assassination to prevent the deception being understood or becoming public,’ said Smith. ‘Consider for a moment how well their deaths would fit the propaganda they’ve managed so far.’

‘Why don’t you move them?’ asked Bering.

‘I intend to if the code isn’t broken quickly,’ said Smith.

‘I believe Radtsic is officially MI6’s responsibility,’ reminded Rebecca, tightly.

‘You are part of this group,’ reminded Smith. ‘No decisions are taken without your being involved in the consultation. I moved extra protection in as a matter of urgency when I failed to make contact with you. I was told you’d already left for this meeting.’

‘For the forethought and quickness of which I think we’re all grateful,’ said Bland, as Rebecca subsided again in her seat, a flush of anger for the first time visible.

‘And in view of today’s involvement of our FBI partners, I think they should be included in our subsequent sessions until this is concluded,’ continued Smith. ‘Which will be on our terms: for the first time ours is the strongest position.’

26

‘Who are you!’

‘The person you and your wife are going to be talking to from now on, sir.’

‘I decide who we talk to,’ insisted Radtsic, the arrogance perfectly pitched. ‘Get the woman back. You can go.’

Goody smiled, shaking his head. ‘I want you to believe that I admire very much how you’ve handled your assignment, sir: you too, ma’am. I genuinely respect professionalism, which is what you’ve both shown. I’m looking forward to our association.’

The Russian turned the flush of uncertainty into feigned anger, eyes bulging as he came forward in his chair. ‘Get out and do what I told you, get the woman back! I want to talk to someone in authority: someone I can trust and understand. You’re a madman and I don’t talk to madmen.’

Beside Radtsic, Elena remained totally unmoving, arms outstretched along the sides of her chair, hands cupped tightly over each edge, looking fixedly at Goody.

‘Trust! That’s the touchstone, isn’t it, sir? When you’re working with a partner, no matter how long you prepare—and to be fair to Irena Yakulova, neither of you could have had long to prepare for an assignment like this—there has to be trust, a reliance, upon your partner not to collapse as Irena Yakulova has collapsed. It’s all over once that happens, isn’t it, sir?’

‘I won’t talk to you, deal with anyone except the woman. Get out!’

‘I didn’t expect you to, not as quickly as this, Yuri Georgevich: didn’t even come prepared for you to do so. I suppose you’d call this a courtesy visit, to let you both know how things are going to be from now on. You’ll both remain here for the time being, but you’re technically under arrest now: the helicopter you obviously saw arrive this morning has doubled the security here, so don’t think of escape or anything silly like that. It really would be stupid and I don’t believe either of you are stupid.…’ Goody snapped his fingers, making Elena visibly jump. ‘I’ve forgotten the code, haven’t I! Now that’s something I really do admire, Yuri Georgevich. I think that’s all for the moment. I’m not sure when I’ll be back: Irena Yakulova is going to take up a lot of our time for the moment but if—’

‘I want contact with my embassy,’ stopped Elena.

Radtsic turned sharply to look at her but didn’t speak.

‘They’ll be informed of your detention, of course, but it’s far too early for talk of consular access.’ Goody smiled again. ‘And when—if—it comes, you’ll be able to talk openly, not bother with those juggling gestures, won’t you?’

‘I demand to know what charges we are being held upon!’ declared Radtsic.

‘Your not being in a position to demand anything is probably the most difficult adjustment you’ll have to make now that it’s all over, Yuri Georgevich. That’s who you are now, Yuri Georgevich Demin, no longer play-acting the part of one of the most important men in the Russian Federation. From now on, for as long as we choose for you to remain here, you’ll be told what to do.’

‘What does that mean, for as long as we remain here?’ asked Elena.

‘You surely don’t imagine you’re going to stay here, in surroundings like this! As soon as we’re ready you’ll be moved to another secure establishment which I’m afraid will be much inferior to this. Split up, I’d expect, between different secure establishments.’

‘A prison, you mean!’ demanded the woman, her voice flickering apprehensively.

‘That’s what I would expect,’ agreed Goody, affably. ‘After all, one of the most likely reactions from Moscow learning their scheme has gone wrong will be to try to eliminate the embarrassment of your being here, which would make prison the safest place for you to be.’

‘You cannot hold us without charge, nor prevent our having consular access,’ insisted the man, dropping the arrogant Radtsic persona.

‘Yuri Georgevich! As far as Moscow is concerned, you and Elena have buried yourselves deeply into our confidence, telling us all your carefully rehearsed stories. You even told them so, at the prison meeting. They believe the same about Irena and will go on believing it until we choose to tell them otherwise. Which we’ve no intention of doing for a long time yet. And do, please, drop the nonsense about there needing to be specific charges and the rights of consular access. We don’t operate within the law, giving ourselves those rights. We accord them if it suits us and if it doesn’t, we don’t bother.…’ Goody gestured broadly around the conservatory. ‘Enjoy all this for a couple of days, until I get back. Although I’m not—’

‘I want to discuss things,’ declared Elena.

‘I really don’t have time, not today.’

‘When…? Tomorrow…?’

‘Look, why don’t you talk things through, the two of you, and when you decide what—and how much—you want to tell me, you let the guards know. And that’s what they are, from now on. Your guards. Get used to it because whatever happens, guards are going to become a very positive feature of your lives for some time to come yet.’

*   *   *

It required positive willpower for Rebecca to suppress the easily aroused frustration, despite realistically acknowledging that Thames House was the obvious venue for her to be summoned under the revised circumstances, in which she was now very much the junior participant. Aubrey Smith and Jane Ambersom were already in the conference room when Rebecca arrived. The only other person she recognized was Joe Goody, intent upon a selection of illustrated wall charts still in the process of being hung by three strangers. A lectern separated the charts from two wide-screen television sets placed side by side in readiness. The Director-General nodded in greeting to Rebecca but didn’t speak, also more occupied with the charts. Jane smiled and said it had to be good to at last be back at Vauxhall Cross, resettling herself, and Rebecca smiled back and agreed that it was, concealing her impression of the other woman’s gloating satisfaction at her relegation to the periphery of what they were now confronting. The two newly seconded Americans were the last to arrive, with apologies for their lateness. Mort Bering extended that apology with the admission that neither the FBI, the CIA, nor the National Security Agency code breakers had so far penetrated the finger-and-arm exchanges beyond agreeing with Britain’s GCHQ that it unquestionably had been a coded exchange between Radtsic and the Russian delegation.

‘Which is scarcely surprising, considering how little time your experts have had to work on it,’ took up Aubrey Smith, introducing a plump, pink-faced man he beckoned towards the lectern as head of GCHQ’s linguistic division. ‘What have we learned from having had more time?’

‘Not as much as we would have liked,’ conceded the unidentified man, putting himself between the wall charts and the inactive televisions and accepting a marker light from one of his waiting companions. ‘It’s very clever encryption that’s going to be very difficult satisfactorily to break. We’ve made some preliminary progress but not enough. We think we’ve got close, in places, but so far we’re beaten by what we believe to be the deciphering being open to different, even contradictory, interpretations.…’