“Every complaint and every warning about this man has been justified by what’s happened,” insisted Williams. “It’s no pleasure for me to have been proven right.”
“You haven’t been,” said Simpson. “Not yet.”
“When’s our first chance to speak to him properly?” asked Hamilton.
“Tomorrow morning,” said Dean.
“Every conceivable thing that could have gone wrong has gone wrong,” insisted Gerald Williams, desperate for the last convincing word.
At that moment Natalia was entering the Russian analysis meeting thinking exactly the same thing. She also suspected her personal survival could be at risk. She hoped she hadn’t miscalculated as she believed her opposition had. It wouldn’t take her long to find out.
“Outrageous!” declared Dmitri Nikulin. “Internationally we have been made to look ridiculous by a tinpot quasi republic still living in the Stone Age. How? Tell me how!”
The head of the presidential secretariat talked directly to Natalia, who in turn looked to Petr Travin beside her. She said, “My deputyhas had all the operational dealings today. Unfortunately, there hasn’t apparently been time for him to advise me.”
Travin had three times claimed he was too occupied talking direct to Yakutsk to give her an account of what was happening, an open challenge to her authority. She knew the man wouldn’t have attempted that without the backing of the deputy interior minister, Viktor Viskov, who sat opposite, fixed-faced, studiously avoiding the man he’d personally appointed to be her deputy and his spy. If this was their chosen moment for a coup, they’d mistimed it.
This afternoon’s meeting had initially been scheduled for the following day, which would possibly have given them the opportunity to complete whatever they were manipulating. But Nikulin’s unexpected decision to bring it forward gave her the most influential audience in front of which to fight, turning Travin’s evasion back upon the man by insisting-in memoranda to the president’s chief of staff-that Travin attend to explain his lack of contact. And bringing the meeting so abruptly and unexpectedly forward hinted the intervention of the president himself, which she guessed to be the main reason for Viskov’s discomfort. From his implacable silence she decided presidential pressure was also the inference drawn by the deputy foreign minister, Mikhail Suslov, the fifth person in Nikulin’s office.
Nikulin frowned between Natalia and her deputy and then said to Travin, “What’s going on here?”
“It’s been very difficult … bad communications,” stumbled Travin, losing his usual smooth-mannered control. “From what I understand, there was no warning, no agreement, to meet the press. The Westerners imagined they were only going to see the chief minister, possibly the Executive Council. We were specifically excluded.”
Charlie had looked trapped, Natalia remembered. Why hadn’t he called? She would have been so much better prepared if they’d talked. It was like trying to walk blindfolded in the dark, but she was sure there was some high ground she could gain if war had been openly declared. She said, “Colonel Lestov was my choice and I think he’s proved to be a good one. He made the whole episode, which I accept we still have properly to have explained, appear the mistake-the stupidity-of the Yakutsk authorities ….” She looked directly atTravin again. “He talked on television of our demanding an explanation. What did he say to you about that?”
“We didn’t go into that,” said her deputy, uneasily. “At the moment there’s some difficulty about the release of the body they believe to be that of a Russian woman. The Americans and the English are on their way back with their nationals.”
Natalia avoided any surprised reaction to the news of Charlie’s return. “Our pathologist has conducted her own autopsy, hasn’t she?” she persisted, not allowing Travin any relief.
“As far as I understand it, yes,” said the man.
“Don’t you know?” demanded Nikulin, exasperated.
“Yes,” blurted Travin.
“What about everything else? Is there anything more for them to do there?” demanded Natalia.
“I don’t … I thought they should wait, to bring the body back. To avoid it appearing that they weren’t in control. The media are still there. You’ve seen the headlines in our own press. I gather it’s much more in the West.”
“I don’t think they should wait at all!’ said Natalia, looking more fully around the chief of staffs office.”Let’s use the media and the Yakutsk stupidity. Recall our people, having completed their investigation, and let them announce their regret at the body being held and prevented from a civilized burial. Match it with a statement from here, formally asking why that proper burial is being prevented of someone obviously the victim of a terrible crime. Yakutsk will be caught, whichever way they respond. If they return the body, they’ll be complying with our demand. If they don’t, a proper burial there will also be what we demanded ….” She looked at the deputy interior minister.”Don’t you agree that publicly we would appear to be in control either way?”
“I suppose so. Perhaps,” conceded Viskov, reluctantly.
“It sounds good to me,” said Mikhail Suslov.
“I can’t see a problem with it, either,” said Nikulin. “In fact, I think it’s something we should do ….” Pointedly addressing her, the presidential aide said. “And I think it is something that you should do personally, Natalia Nikandrova. Brief Colonel Lestov and prepare our announcement from here.”
Travin was white-faced, staring accusingly at Viskov, who still refused to answer the look.
Carefully trying to judge a safe contribution to the discussion, the deputy foreign minister said, “What do we know about this Englishman’s story of wartime mysteries?”
Travin shifted, the attention back upon him. “Colonel Lestov was only with him and the American woman for about two hours before they flew out. It was the woman who gave them a resume of what he’d said but not any explanation-any facts-to support it.”
“So we are dependent upon cooperation?” said Nikulin.
As I have been from the beginning, acknowledged Natalia, finally. Charlie would tell her all she needed to know, to answer all the questions, but most importantly to defend herself-themselves-from any internal attack, within the ministry. Refusing to give up on Travin, she said, “You brought them officially together, as a group. Will there be sufficient cooperation?”
Imagining an escape, Travin said, “I don’t believe there’s been a lot of exchange so far. I found the Englishman belligerent: obstructive. The impression in Yakutsk has been that he’s ineffective.”
Charlie’s favorite chameleon color, Natalia recognized. “Let’s hope you’re wrong.”
“What do we know about him?” asked Nikulin, abruptly.
Natalia felt the first jump of concern. Quickly she said, “He was posted here by agreement, about a year after the official assignment of FBI representation, to cooperate on organized crime-”
“And was largely responsible for the breaking up of a nuclear smuggling incident involving Natalia Nikandrova’s previous deputy,” came in Viskov, accusingly.
“And other government officials,” fought back Natalia.
“He’s here by our permission, like the FBI?” queried Nikulin.
“Yes,” agreed Viskov.
“Then I don’t see that we have a problem,” said the presidential adviser, going to the deputy foreign minister. “If there isn’t a full exchange, we tell his government to withdraw him.”
How much more impossible was it all going to get? Natalia wondered.
The man traveling on the State Department plane with Kenton Peters lay Charlie Muffin’s file aside and said, “Ornery son-of-a-bitch.” There was a strong Texan accent.
“Who did the Agency a lot of harm in the past,” reminded Peters.
“You want it to be an accident? Or obvious?” The operational name on the passport was Henry Packer. It was his own idea of a joke to describe himself as a pipeline specialist on his visa.