“The uncertainty is getting them both out, which it is imperative we do,” insisted Charlie, content to use the moment. “Natalia Fedova’s cooperation depends entirely upon the safety and protection of the child.”
“You’ve indicated that I’m the finance officer,” said Briddle, addressing Passmore. “It might be in my briefing pack but if it isn’t, is there a budget within which I have to work?”
There were isolated sniggers among the other five at the bureaucratic demand, which increased when Passmore replied: “None. But we expect receipts,”
“Are these two detained in any way?” asked Robert Denning, a tall but stooped man whose card identified him as an MI6 officer.
“There’s no indication of that,” avoided Charlie. “It is something to be established when we get to Moscow.”
“Does any field instruction need London confirmation?” demanded Peter Warren, disclosing his MI6 allegiance by directing the question to Straughan.
“No,” replied Straughan, without hesitation. “Charlie has full operational authority. There’ll need to be liaison with us here, which I don’t think is covered in your Moscow packs, so I’ll make you, Peter, responsible for that, particularly relaying anything that Charlie wants sent, okay?”
“I’m finding this difficult to follow,” Preston continued to protest. “Has she approached us, to defect?”
“There are sufficient indications,” said Charlie, acknowledging the importance of separate back-channel arrangements with his known fellow officers.
“Who’s her Control in Moscow, through whom these indications have come?” asked Wilkinson, coming into the discussion.
Again the other two men on the stage looked to Charlie, who hesitated, anxious to get the answer right. “There isn’t one, not in Moscow. That’s what I am going there to become. I’ve had some prior contact.”
“Sufficient to justify an operation of this size at this early stage?” frowned Preston.
They were professionals, Charlie judged hopefully. But then so was he. Or supposed to be. “There isn’t time for lengthy ground planning, only what I can set up. Which is why there is to be the separation between us. Until the actual moment of extraction, I’m the only one at risk.”
“What about that extraction?” questioned Wilkinson, whom Passmore had designated a logistics officer, along with Denning. “There’s surely been advanced planning put into that?”
Straughan indicated the enlarged photographs behind him. “Already at the embassy there are Polish and English passports carrying those pictures. You and Denning have to pay locally for all transport, obviously including airline tickets. This is an in-and-out job, which is why we’re manning it as we are.”
“Mother and daughter,” itemized Jeremy Beckindale, who completed the MI6 secondment. “What about the father?”
“There isn’t one,” replied Charlie, prepared before the question concluded.
“What’s the likelihood of either personal or protective resistance?” persisted the most obviously doubtful Preston.
“None,” insisted Charlie, as quickly as before. “They’re not being kidnapped. No extraction will be contemplated if there’s the slightest possibility of violent opposition.”
“What guarantee is there of that being avoided?”
“Me,” said Charlie, shortly. “Nothing and no one moves until I press the button.”
The room became silent. Passmore said: “All through?”
Preston said: “I’d like a much better idea of what we’re getting involved in.”
So would I, thought Charlie.
“We saw it all on the television relay,” pre-empted Monsford, as Straughan entered the Director’s office suite.
“I thought it went well,” offered Harry Jacobson, tentatively. As with Stephen Briddle earlier, it was Jacobson’s first personal encounter with Monsford, which was unsettling in itself, and he now believed he’d made a bad mistake. The London recall, to witness the televised briefing and reinforce the physical identification of Charlie Muffin by flying back to Moscow on the same plane, had been waiting when Jacobson returned to the embassy after the failed meeting with Radtsic and on impulse Jacobson hadn’t told the Director or Straughan of the Russian’s nonappearance. Now it was too late and there was no guarantee Radtsic would keep the automatically prearranged catch-up meeting to be activated on his return.
“The majority of the others feel like Preston,” balanced Straughan.
“I’d be disappointed if our people didn’t. But they’re not going to be involved, so their uncertainties don’t matter.” Monsford shrugged. He once more hadn’t switched on his personal recording apparatus.
“What about Charlie himself?” queried Jacobson. “Hasn’t he wanted more?”
“His sole interest is getting there,” dismissed Straughan.
“I’ve read his file,” said Jacobson, tapping his dossier. “He’s unpredictable.”
“Not this time,” insisted Monsford. “His reasoning is knocked to hell by his one, single priority: getting to Moscow.”
“Why don’t we tell Radtsic the protective diversion that’ll doubly guarantee his extraction?” unexpectedly suggested Straughan.
“Is that a good idea?” wondered Monsford, with his customary reluctance to respond to an idea without first getting the opinions of everyone else.
“It might calm Radtsic down,” said Jacobson, uncomfortably. “I’m surprised every time he turns up for a meeting.”
With no knowledge of the Director’s earlier encounter with Stephen Briddle, the operations director wondered what Jacobson’s personal feelings must be, sitting as Jacobson was sitting, discussing an assassination, a murder, that he had to commit. Straughan had always hoped never to be personally associated with a sanctioned killing, particularly one predicated upon such tenuous reasoning as this. He wished he had the courage officially to object, for which there was provision in the statutory regulations. “Natalia’s under surveillance by the FSB. If we told Radtsic, he could guarantee Natalia-and therefore Charlie-being precisely where we want them to be for the distraction operation.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?” reflected Monsford. “Everything would be gift wrapped.”
“So we’ll do it?” pressed Straughan, determined against being sacrificed as Jane Ambersom had been. He’d liked the woman, refusing the sniping of others at her sexual uncertainty, and felt guilty that his own asexuality had prevented his doing more to protect her, although knowing that if she’d survived, he would have been the victim instead.
“Not in precise detail,” qualified Monsford. “Tell Radtsic we’re setting up a failsafe extraction: that he’s got no reason to worry about anything going wrong. And tell him I’m looking forward personally to welcoming him here, in London.” It was a good feeling, knowing everything was perfectly arranged, with no possibility of error.
Charlie held back in the departure lounge, waiting to let the other passengers not just board ahead of him but actually get into their seats, giving him the opportunity to study the faces of those traveling with him, which he prolonged while finding a space in the already stuffed overhead lockers for his minimally packed suit carrier before finally sitting in his personally selected aisle seat just two rows back from the business-class separation.
Only when Charlie completely settled did Jacobson properly look up from the in-flight shopping brochure. For additional concealment as well as for his assigned purpose, Jacobson had secured a window seat only three rows behind Charlie’s but on the opposite side of the cabin to give him an uninterrupted view of his intended target. Which prompted the immediate reflection of how ideal it would also be to get this close when the moment came to pull the trigger of the already skipped Russian Makarov in his embassy safe. Away from the MI6 building, Jacobson’s concern at having said nothing about Radtsic’s failed meeting had lessened. No one in London or Moscow, apart from Radtsic, had known of the appointment, so he couldn’t be caught out on that omission. Jacobson’s hope was that the Russian wouldn’t appear at the failsafe meeting, sparing him from the assassination order.