“And I’m intrigued by whatever it is Radtsic was talking about at the very end,” added Palmer.
“All of which you were supposed to be,” warned Smith.
“What the hell are you suggesting!” demanded Monsford.
Again Smith confronted question with question: “Do you normally allow encounters like that to be completely unsupervised?”
“I don’t have a precedent,” Monsford quickly came back. “Neither my service nor yours has had someone from such an echelon of Russian intelligence cross over to us. Nor, after managing such a defection, succeeding in getting released from at least nominal Russian detention a wife with whom to be reunited.”
“Indeed, neither of us has,” agreed Smith, smiling in return. “You’ve very definitely established the precedent. But how did that unsupervised reunion come about? Did you offer it? Or did Radtsic insist upon meeting his wife alone?”
Monsford hesitated. “He didn’t insist: he asked. And it was hardly an unsupervised encounter. We’ve just watched and listened to everything that took place.”
“With no debriefing intermediary to direct or guide it,” Smith pointed out.
“In the intrusive absence of whom, caught up in their emotion, we’ve already got a lead to something Radtsic expected to be the culmination of a thirty-year intelligence career but instead, because of an internal power struggle…” Monsford stopped, his mouth physically distorting to avoid the intended singular boast, “we’ve got the coup.”
“Let’s not keep credit from where credit is due,” enthused Smith, layering the condescension. “The coup is yours and yours alone. Which was how it was initiated and carried out, without the participation of anyone else. Just you, alone.”
“We’re becoming increasingly irritated at this perpetual antipathy,” declared Bland. “As well as becoming increasingly concerned that it’s endangering the matter at hand. True, we’ve got our coup. But externally it’s greatly mitigated by a number of unresolved issues. We want-as others more important want-this constant bickering to stop for the concentration to instead be upon tidying up those issues.”
“I reiterate that to resolve those issues I am offering every assistance asked of me and my service to help the Director-General, whose officer created them,” said Monsford.
“That offer would best be achieved by the immediate withdrawing from Moscow the three MI6 officers seconded to the original extraction for which I am responsible but for whom there is no further need,” responded Aubrey Smith, at once. “MI6 has succeeded with their extraction and achieved its coup, but upon which there would appear to be a need for much more work.”
The only sound in the room for several minutes was that of differing seat and chair shifting prompted by differing reasons. The first-to-speak concentration settled upon Bland, the nominal chairman, who avoided the conflict with a matador’s deftness by inviting Monsford’s contribution.
“Unfortunate and public embarrassments aside, I am not aware of any changes in circumstance-in which, of course, I do not include the reemergence of Charlie Muffin-justifying the Director-General’s astonishing demand.”
“Are there any changes of circumstances?” Palmer asked Aubrey Smith.
“I believe there are considerable changes, none of which I intend discussing here,” said the MI5 Director-General. “I shall, of course, discuss them in full and complete detail when the extraction of Natalia Fedova becomes a wholly independent MI5 matter.”
“Not only is it outrageous to impugn my service, as I believe the Director-General is doing, it is arrogant for him to imagine that the separation of our two services is for him to decide,” said Monsford.
“It is for the Director to make whatever interpretation he chooses,” dismissed Smith. “In making your decision, which I was in no way taking from you, it’s important I make totally clear that I am not prepared to continue the extraction of Natalia Fedova in partnership with MI6.”
“And I must make it equally clear, as I have already done, that I am prepared completely to take over the extraction as an MI6 operation,” declared Monsford.
“You took it over the edge,” accused Jane Ambersom, objectively. “You didn’t have a fallback if the ruling had gone against you.”
“I’d have done what I know Monsford’s going to do, ignore it,” said Aubrey Smith, unoffended at her directness. “The whole intention was to get Monsford and MI6 officially out of our operation. Which is what I’m determined to do: get Monsford out, not just from this extraction but out of Vauxhall Cross. He’s the paranoid megalomaniac to MI6 that J. Edgar Hoover was to the FBI. Monsford’s dangerous: out of control.”
“After today he’ll be even more determined to destroy you,” cautioned the woman. “And now he’s excluded we’ve no way of second-guessing what he’ll do.”
“We know what Monsford’s going to do: or try to do,” repeated the MI5 Director. “What we’ve got to do is wrap up Moscow, get everyone safely back here.” He turned to Passmore. “So when’s that going to be?”
“As of fifteen minutes ago Charlie hadn’t contacted Wilkinson,” said the operations director. “I’ve authorized the money Charlie wants, as well as the Russian passports for Natalia and the child. As soon as we’ve finished, I’ll add the decision officially to cut MI6 adrift and tell Wilkinson to make that clear to Monsford’s people-”
“Do that,” broke in Smith. “Once Wilkinson’s completed the handover, he and the other two are out, too. Their only function from now on is to take Monsford’s people all over Moscow on wild goose chases. Wilkinson is to tell Charlie we’re sending in independent backup. Who’ll head the new group?”
“Ian Flood,” responded Passmore, without hesitation. “He’s one of four on standby, all with valid visas,”
“Charlie likes the Savoy, near Red Square,” remembered Smith. “That’s where he lived during the Lvov investigation. Flood’s to book in there and Charlie’s to be told that’s where his contact is. But don’t tell Wilkinson the hotel name. I don’t want any more mistakes. Charlie will identify it by being told it’s his favorite.” Smith looked between the other two. “What else do we need to do?”
“Once Charlie’s got his travel money and the passports there’s no reason why he can’t move at once,” picked up Passmore. “I can get our second team in today, with Flood going in first. All we’d need from Charlie is routes and arrival day.”
“I wasn’t exaggerating Monsford’s paranoia,” said Smith. “I also believe he’s capable of paranoid orders, dressed up with whatever justification. Tell Flood’s team, upon my authority, to confront like with like if necessary.”
“You’re surely not imagining a gunfight at the O.K. Corral?” asked Passmore.
“Those are the orders, in my name,” said Smith.
“I’ve got an idea,” announced Jane. “First I need to know if anything was said this morning about Straughan?”
Smith shook his head. “It was mentioned. Monsford denied knowing any details, apart from it not being a security problem and that Rebecca was handling it.”
“Ducking and weaving again,” Jane recognized. “How’d it be if there was an alert that MI6 has been penetrated, particularly after the suicide of its operations director? A security purge might even find Rebecca Street’s copy of what Straughan made.”
“I think it might cause Monsford a very big problem.” Smith smiled.
“Not if the internal search is controlled by Monsford,” Passmore pointed out.
“It can’t be,” insisted Jane. “The regulations are that it would have to be independent of currently serving officers.”
Gerald Monsford’s purple-faced fury, accompanied by seemingly uncontrollable facial twitching, was greater than Rebecca had witnessed before, although the irrational pacing was familiar. For a long time after his stormed entry it was impossible for the man to speak comprehensibly: even attempted words burst out incomplete or slurred.