Vassily nodded at Dimitri, who started the car again and followed the younger Russian’s directions. They entered Beaconsfield and came to a roundabout. The base was the last turning off this.
The drove up to the housing estate, turning right into a cul-de-sac of houses.
“One is approaching in a car!”
Hans got out and stared at a Vauxhall Viva car as it drove past him. A girl was driving; she was dark and wore glasses. He shook his head.
“She was one of the minor receptors. No threat to us, as she had no idea we are here,” Ivan reported.
They sat there for another hour. Vassily was getting frustrated and bored. At last Ivan smiled.
“Two more, walking!”
This time Hans felt the shivers of excitement. Two young women were walking out of the base. He watched as the taller one laughed and said something to the policeman on the gate. There was no doubt in his mind, for here was the girl he’d seen in Berlin and the same one who haunted his dreams.
More attractive in the flesh, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as the pair walked past, seemingly oblivious to the four men. He got back into the car.
“That’s her!”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Follow them, see where they go.”
Dimitri turned the car round and followed at a discreet distance. The girls reached the end of the lane, where the sorter one turned right and the taller one went straight on, along the main street.
“Which one?”
“The blonde!”
She was on the right hand pavement, heading east, so the Russians had to drive on the other side of the road. Hans admired the typical English scene, with wide a street. He could imagine the old coaches and horses clattering along here a couple of hundred years ago.
She turned off the road, down a small alley. Cursing, Dimitri was forced to continue up to the next roundabout and head back again. He turned down the same little lane.
There was no sign of her.
“Damn! Ivan?”
“She’s close, in one of these buildings.”
“Right, stop here. We’ll go on foot, try to identify the building. Dimitri stay with the car.”
The three men got out of the car and followed Ivan up to a junction. He seemed to hesitate.
“What’s up?” Vassily asked.
At that moment, Hans saw the girl walking down the next road.
“There she is!” he said, and set off after her.
The other two men could see a girl, but it wasn’t the one they’d been chasing.
“Hans, get back here!”
“I’ll get her,” the German said, and started to run.
“Shit! Ivan?”
“That’s not her.”
“I can see that, fool, where the hell is she?”
Ivan pointed to a block of flats.
“There, in the top apartment.”
“So what’s he chasing?”
Ivan shrugged. He and Vassily entered the lobby of the flats.
Hans caught up with the girl only to find it wasn’t her. The woman was almost forty and nothing like the girl he’d seen. He muttered an apology and started walking back to where he’d left the others.
Vassily pressed the lift call button.
“Is she alone?”
“Yes.”
The lift arrived and Vassily entered. Suddenly, Ivan turned and stared in horror at the girl as she stood looking at him just out of Vassily’s vision. The lift door closed and started up, despite Vassily pressing all the buttons. It stopped between third and fourth. No matter what he did, the doors wouldn’t budge.
Ivan instantly realised that she was in a different league to him. He tried to read her, but was powerfully rejected. It dawned on him that they’d played them for suckers. She walked over to him.
<Hello Ivan, how are you?> she thought at him.
To hear someone in such perfect clarity almost made him cry. He was not alone any more.
<What do I call you?>
<Call me Amber, if you like.>
<You are like me?>
<I guess so. We have to leave here. Come with me.>
He followed her without question. He stopped, for the German was walking resolutely towards them. The girl stopped and with a slight smile on her face, signalled him to stop and say nothing. He complied out of curiosity.
Hans walked past as if they weren’t there. Ivan could have reached out and touched him, so close did he pass.
The girl started walking once more, so he accompanied her.
<How long have you known we were here?> he asked.
<Since you landed.>
She waked round the corner and to a small car that was parked by the kerb. It was a little English sports car with a soft top.
<Get in.>
He did so.
She drove away from Beaconsfield, to a large country house. It had a long drive and when the house came into view, Ivan smiled, as this was what he imagined everyone in England lived in. He didn’t feel afraid, but he wondered if she was making him feel like this.
<Yes,> she told him, laughing.
<Can you read everything?>
<Yes.>
She parked the car on the gravel and got out. He simply followed. They walked up the steps and through the large ornate front door in the cavernous hall. Many austere descendents of the one of the keepers of this house gazed myopically at them from the many portraits that festooned the walls.
<In here.>
He followed her into a large drawing room, tastefully decorated in a wealthy style.
<Please sit and relax. Would you like a drink?>
<May I?>
<Of course, Vodka and fresh orange?>
He smiled, nodding. <Please.>
She walked over to an ornate corner cupboard and opened it. Inside was a well appointed bar. She made the drinks and returned, handing him the vodka. He sipped it cautiously, but it was perfect.
Sitting down, he looked at his surroundings.
“You don’t need to be afraid, you know?” she said, in fluent Russian.
“I’m not.”
She sat next to him, taking his hand. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
“My God, you are so like me!” she said, in English.
His frown told her that he didn’t understand, so she repeated in Russian.
“Why?”
“We both had a tough decision to make. Do you miss Alena?”
He was surprised, but didn’t show it. To be read by someone else was disconcerting. He failed to get anything from her.
“No.”
“I don’t miss Andrew, either.”
He frowned, so she allowed him in to see just a little. He gasped at the similarities.
<Why am I here?> he thought at her.
<We are unique, you and I, amongst all these supposedly normal people. We are so few and so alone. We should not be enemies.>
He digested her words.
“What do you propose?”
<Our people and your people are trying to find people like us to use as weapons against each other. If the human race is evolving into something better, why should we, the next step up, be used by them?>
<Go on?>
<You find special people, you turn them over to the KGB and what happens to them? They get send to strange places and become spies. Why can’t we work together to build a peace instead of perpetuating the nearest thing to a war without fighting?>
<What do you mean?>
She let him in again, just enough to see her vision for the future - a vision of a world without boundaries, without armies and without fear. A world where those with gifts could use them for the greater good without fear or ignorance hindering their every move - a better place for everyone.
Without knowing he was being coerced, he felt that finally he belonged. He belonged to this woman, and all those like her, no matter how few there might be. They had risen above their pathetic notions of nation or state, to a higher level. Suddenly, his life and meaning and purpose, all his desperate seeking had come to an end.