‘I don’t understand.’
‘You should.’ Krasnov spoke with sudden vehemence. ‘You and your friends. You made me betray my country’s secrets.’ He faltered and for a moment they thought he might break down, but he recovered his composure. ‘It’s impossible for me to go back. I’m finished.’
Liang Hui looked at him in astonishment. ‘I think you’re dramatizing the situation,’ he said. ‘Think about it calmly. Of course you must go back. Tell them the truth. You were forcibly abducted. Taken against your will to a Chinese ship. Tell them all you know. From your visit to the kafeteria onwards. Explain how you were interrogated. The techniques used and so on. All that will be true.’
‘Yes,’ said Krasnov bitterly. ‘And then?’
‘You do what any normal human being would do. You protect yourself. You are not responsible for what has happened. It is not your wish. Why should you accept guilt? So you tell your people that you gave us nothing of importance. That you knew from our questions that our technology was far behind yours. That it was therefore easy to give us misleading information.’
Krasnov managed a hollow laugh. ‘I know the truth to be different. Your technology may be behind ours in certain respects, but your questions showed you know a great deal. Don’t forget, we know what you’ve got. We, too, have intelligence services.’
Liang Hui ignored these remarks. ‘You tell them,’ he continued, ‘that after the interrogation we landed you on Norwegian soil because it was not necessary or practical to take you back with us.’
From under the hood there came a snort of derision. ‘Rubbish. I’m finished as far as my own people are concerned. If I go back they will want to know everything, down to the last detail. My country knows a great deal about interrogation. They would soon break down an untrue story.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘They would make me confess what I told you. And then…’ He spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness.
‘What do you want us to do?’ asked Tanya gently.
‘Land me on British soil as a defector. I can claim political asylum.’
‘You can do that in Norway,’ she said.
‘Maybe. And if they grant it the KGB will find me in a few days… a few weeks. It makes no difference. They will find me. It must be Britain if I am to have a chance.’
‘Why especially Britain?’ she said.
‘The British have a tradition of granting political asylum. It is one of their remarkable qualities. They will understand my problem. There are none so fiery as the converted.’
Liang Hui said, ‘What do you mean by that, Krasnov?’
‘Britain is like an alcoholic or a criminal reformed. Now that her empire has collapsed the attitude of her people has changed. Especially that of the younger ones. There is a new spirit of socialism abroad. The British are trying to salve their social conscience. They do this by making propaganda for the underprivileged, particularly the coloured races. Yet no country exploited these people more than Britain. Now she wishes to make amends. To be seen by the world to have reformed. So she attacks those who behave as she did. This includes my country. We, too, are building an empire. But in a different way and with different objectives. We wish to see equality and social justice for all.’
Krasnov took a long breath, and Tanya patted his shoulder for no other reason than that she was sorry for him. He was to her like a child in trouble. But he didn’t like the gesture and shook her hand away. ‘As a defector from the Soviet Union I will be welcome in Britain. They will make propaganda from the defection of a Soviet naval officer. So I’ve no option now. It must be Britain.’
Liang Hui scratched at invisible cobwebs on his forehead. ‘Your views are very muddled, Lieutenant, not well informed,’ he said, ‘In China we regard the Soviet Union as an imperialist power. That is why she makes détente with the other super-imperialist power, the USA. As for Britain.’ Lian Hui shrugged his shoulders, ‘she is nothing — a satellite of the United States. America’s most important off-shore nuclear platform. Europe is nothing, too fragmented. NATO is growing weaker not stronger. The French started that. The balance of power will shift slowly but surely to the East.’ Liang Hui’s tone changed suddenly. He became impatient. ‘But I have no time for these discussions. It is not part of my duties to become involved in such things.’
Krasnov’s manner changed too. He became less challenging as if he felt he’d possibly gone too far. ‘So what are you going to do?’ he said quietly.
Liang Hui gave the hooded man a long hard look. ‘Tell my superiors that you don’t want to be landed on Norwegian soil. That you believe Britain is the only safe country for you. But I warn you. There’ll be difficulties. Certain arrangements have already been made. It may be too late to change them.’ His eyes narrowed and his tone conveyed that he hadn’t much liked Krasnov’s attempt to change carefully-laid plans. ‘And remember. For all your speech making, you’re in no position to lay down terms.’
Krasnov was silent then, weighing what had been said. ‘Tell them,’ he said at last, ‘that if I am landed on Norwegian soil I’m afraid the Press there may get the whole story from me.’
‘What story?’
‘The true story.’
Liang Hui stood up, pushed his chair back. ‘If that’s a threat forget it. It won’t impress my people. What you tell the Western press is immaterial to them.’
Krasnov thought about that, hesitated, then blurted out what was in his mind. ‘Tell them I know this is a British warship. HMS Aries. I think that may help.’
‘I’m afraid there’s been rather a serious snag with Daisy Chain, sir.’ Briggs handed the signal to the Commodore (Intelligence) as if it were a very hot plate. ‘Just in from Aries.’
The commodore took it, gathering his eyebrows in a bushy frown and regarding his assistant with a mixture of suspicion and disapproval. He began to read:
Immediate: In some way unknown to us our passenger has learnt that this is a British warship and knows her name. Stop. He insists on being landed on British soil, treated as a defector and given political asylum. Stop. He threatens that if landed in Norway he will give his story to the Norwegian press. Stop. Request immediate instructions. McGhee.
The commodore looked at Briggs as if he’d like to wring his neck. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said. ‘Some flaming idiot’s boobed.’
‘It’s incredible, sir.’ Briggs executed a series of anxious shifts from one foot to the other, like a child with a full bladder.
‘Incredible be damned. It’s happened, man.’ The commodore leant forward in his chair, head bowed in hands, elbows on desk.
‘I mean, sir. If only…’
‘If only you would keep quiet, Briggs, I might be able to think.’
‘Sorry, sir.’
The commodore resumed his grief-like posture which the lieutenant-commander knew from experience denoted intense concentration. He’ll come up with something, reflected Briggs, any moment now. Sure enough it was not long before the little man rose to his feet and began a fast quarterdeck pacing of the office. Briggs meanwhile tussled unsuccessfully with the problem. How on earth could one guess what had happened? he reflected. How could such a carefully planned operation have gone astray? His imagination boggled and he gave up. For want of something better to do he went over his last round of golf. Finding that equally distasteful he looked out of the window and thought no more.
The commodore stopped pacing, gave his assistant’s back a baleful look. ‘I suppose you recall that on the strength of your undertakings I gave VCNS the assurance that neither British nor Norwegian interests would be put at risk by Daisy Chain.’