‘Because their National Council will order them to do so. And because they won’t be alone.
‘The Allies, you mean.’
‘Better than that. We’ve got Kolchak. The Supreme Allied War Council has decided that Admiral Kolchak is the man most likely to save Russia. We are to give him our backing.’
Paul wondered how he planned to achieve that. What was he going to do, bombard Petersburg from the Baltic? He’d have to get past the German blockade first.
‘Does he have any ships?’
Cumming cleared his throat. ‘It will be a land-based campaign.’
‘But he’s an admiral… does he have an army?’
‘Not yet,’ Browning said. ‘He’s in Tokyo at the moment.’
‘Tokyo? What’s he doing there?’
‘The Japanese have occupied Manchuria. The admiral is attempting to secure their co-operation.’
‘In assisting the Legion.’
‘Precisely,’ Cumming said. ‘We envisage the admiral returning to Russia through Vladivostok and travelling west, garnering support along the way. So, as you can see, this puts you in a unique position.’
‘Does it?’
‘Naturally. The French have their liaison officers with the Legion and the War Office believe we need a man there, too. Otherwise the frogs are likely to march all over us. Your unique background makes you the man for the job.’
‘But I told you—’
‘Yes, we know, the man we thought you were is dead. But that can’t be helped. We just have to make the best we can of it. We may have missed the bull’s eye, but at least we’ve scored a couple of outers. Your connection with Mikhail Rostov and with Kolchak.’
‘But I don’t have a connection with Kolchak!’
‘He has expressed a hope to your mother,’ Cumming said, ‘that he might have the opportunity to meet you. Being your father’s son and all that.’
‘You’ve spoken to my mother?’
‘No need. She’s mentioned the fact to several people. It’s no secret.’
Yes, he could believe that. She’d bore anyone who’d stand still long enough to listen. Odd how she had never told him. Or perhaps she had. Sitting by his bedside those first weeks in hospital she had prattled on about many things. He’d slept through most of it. When he could.
‘We’re putting you with the Legion’s rearguard in the Chelyabinsk region. In place for when Kolchak arrives. By then, of course, we expect it to be the front line. If all goes to plan you’ll have contacted your cousin and sounded out the strength of the anti-Bolshevik factions in Petrograd and Moscow. If he’s the man he’s cracked up to be he’ll be able to organise some sort of co-ordinated rising in the cities. Failing that, he can liaise with Deniken in the south. By the time our troops in Murmansk have linked up with Archangel, we’ll be pressuring Petrograd.’
Paul wiped a hand across his brow.
‘Excuse me…’
He was sweating. The office was hot, sun streaming through the window. The air had become stuffy.
‘What?
‘I don’t want to sound—’
‘Sound what?’
‘Look, sir,’ he said. ‘It’s not that…’
‘You’re not sure you’re up to the job,’ Cumming suggested. ‘Is that it?’
That certainly was it. Wasn’t up to it and didn’t want it. There had been times in the last two years when he had doubted he’d been up to the job of a mere subaltern. He’d even suspected his promotion — first to full lieutenant then to captain — had been the result of some army foul-up and that, sooner or later, someone would realise their mistake. But now he was expected to return to a country he had last seen when he was a child, a country that had just gone through two revolutions, and become a Russian version of that chap in Arabia who had been all over the newspapers recently. At least Colonel Lawrence had known something about the Arabs. What was he supposed to know about Slavs?
Cumming’s Chou face had unexpectedly softened.
‘We don’t expect miracles, Rostov. No plan runs as smoothly as it looks on paper. This isn’t the kind of work that you’ve been trained for and we’re perfectly aware that you have your limitations. But you won’t be on your own. You’ll be there to make the introductions, so to speak. Hart’s the brains. This sort of thing is right up his street, eh Browning?’
‘I should say so,’ Browning agreed.
Hart will do the organising. All you’ll need to do is open the doors for us.’
‘But who’s Hart?’
‘You know Hart.’ Cumming shot an enquiring glance at Browning. ‘This is Hart’s show. We understood he’d made contact. You’re here, after all.’
‘I’m here because of the note,’ Paul said.
‘Yes, but Hart arranged that.’
‘Good man, Hart,’ Browning said again. ‘He’s the one who brought you to our attention.’
‘But I don’t know anyone named Hart.’
‘It was his idea by all accounts,’ Browning said. ‘He’s been keeping an eye on you.’
‘He has?’ Then he remembered the man in the cap who had been following him. ‘Stocky fellow, wears a cap and carries an umbrella? Looks like a bailiff?’
‘Does Hart look like a bailiff, Browning?’
‘I’ve not given it any thought, Cumming.’
‘Round face, moustache,’ Paul said. ‘He’s been following me all day.’
‘Always been one for a disguise has Hart,’ said Browning.
‘I saw him on the street before I came up.’
Browning wandered to the window and looked down as if he might catch sight of him. ‘Waiting for you, is he?’
‘I don’t know. I thought he was after money.’
The mention of money reminded Paul of why he had come there in the first place. He put a hand in his pocket for the note until he remembered the girl with the bun had taken it.
‘That letter of yours,’ he said to Cumming. ‘It sort of alluded to some difficulties I might be having at the moment?’
‘You’re broke,’ Cumming said flatly. ‘Owe money, or so Hart tells us. Isn’t that right, Browning?’
Browning merely nodded without passing comment for once.
Paul ignored the question as to how this fellow Hart knew about his financial position and went straight to the nub of the matter.
‘Then I’m assuming you’re offering to pay me to undertake this mission — beyond my army pay, that is?’
‘We’ll clear your debts and provide you with a generous sum on top,’ Cumming replied.
Paul found himself caught between a feeling of relief and a sense of being insulted. The money would be welcome, of course. A God-send in fact. But why hadn’t they assumed he would do the job out of patriotic duty? After all, he’d volunteered for the western front for no more than army pay. Was it because he was half-Russian? Because they didn’t entirely trust his patriotism?
‘And then there’s that other matter,’ said Cumming.
‘What other matter?’
‘We can have the accusations struck from your army record. There will be no court martial.’
‘Court martial? What do you mean?’
Cumming’s nose wrinkled again.
‘Remind him, will you Browning. Like much else it seems to have slipped his mind.’
Browning glared at Paul like a witness for the prosecution.
‘Cardsharping in the mess, wasn’t it, Rostov? Gypping fellow officers on their way to the front?’
7
Unsurprisingly, given all that had gone before, it was the other Ross who proved to be the cardsharp. What did surprise Paul, despite all that had gone before, was that he still didn’t find it easy to accept.