The Scorpion Signal q-9

by Adam Hall

  Calling F-Freddie. Location Please.

  No answer. Croder went off the air. F-Freddie was Wilson and either his set was out or he'd skidded on the snow or the police had pulled him in for something.

  At 5.44 I saw a black limousine half a block ahead of me and the set was in my hand a couple of seconds later but I didn't signal yet: it could be a Chaika. I pulled out and got past some of the traffic in front of me with the front wheels shifting across the ruts of packed snow and the rear end breaking away and correcting and breaking away again until I had to start slowing for the lights, Chaika, finding a slot in the right-hand line of traffic and pulling over, it was a Chaika, not a Zil.

  B-Bertie… Proceeding south and west along Bolshaja just past the Gorkogo intersection, the Hotel Peking on my right. Did we lose F-Freddie?

  I checked the time at 5.45.

  A-Able to C–Charlie… This is the deadline.

  Croder came back straight away

  C–Charlie… We continue until further orders.

  The lights in front of me went green and I got going again. The deadline was 5.45 because Ignatov had said the Zil was to be handed over to the chief of state's personal chauffeur ten minutes before Brezhnev was to board the car outside the Grand Palace, and it was a five-minute run from the ring road to the Kremlin at this time of the evening. The pickup time was six o'clock. So this was zero and the seven of us were circling the target area and the radio was silent and I was beginning to sweat because Schrenk was a professional and had enough hate burning inside him to carry this thing through to the final blast and if he succeeded the headlines would carry the shock around the world.

  Because I had failed to carry out the instructions.

  5.46.

  Zero plus one and too late.

  E-Edward… going north on Ckalova and just crossing Karl Marx.

  The snow drifted out of the dark sky, eddying in the slipstream of the car ahead of me. It was becoming mesmeric, and I wound the window down and let the freezing air come in, taking deep breaths of it. I'd slept for nearly four hours after I'd got back from the warehouse but the blood loss was still a problem. In less than a minute the left shoulder was numbed by the draught and I put the window up again but went on breathing consciously until the haze went out of my head.

  5. 47.

  If I'd been given this information I would have eliminated Schrenk the minute I found him.

  But the instructions were already there.

  The snow swirled against the windscreen. There was of course a chance that Schrenk had made a mistake or the stuff hadn't arrived in time or the Zil had come unstuck in the snow but he was highly talented and they'd crippled him and he knew what he wanted to do and it wasn't particularly difficult with that amount of feverish dedication driving him: history was liberally punctuated with successful assassinations and he wasn't trying to do anything new.

  This was why I looked to my left at every intersection, sometimes seeing the glow of a golden dome through the snow haze. That was where we would see the column of smoke going up, a few minutes after six o'clock.

  The traffic was thinning now as the city's population flowed from the factories and offices to the apartment blocks in the suburbs.

  5.48.

  D-Donald… I've got a Zil.

  C–Charlie calling D-Donald — give your location.

  I'm heading north and coming up to Uljanovskaja. The police let him through on the red light. The Zil is moving west on Uljanovskaja now and going fast.

  Did you see the number plates?

  No. It was broadside on when it went past.

  Did it have any kind of escort?

  No. It went through the lights on its own.

  C–Charlie calling A-Able. Where are you?

  I hit the button. A-Able. I'm at Obucha and the lights are red. There's a left-turn arrow and I'm waiting for it now.

  Two seconds went by.

  From your present location, can you intercept the Zil before it reaches the Kremlin?

  The map had been open on the passenger's seat since we'd started patrolling and I looked at it now. It depends on what speed he makes. 1 can't go across the lights as he can. But I've got a chance of cutting him off at the Solanka intersection.

  The left-turn arrow went green and I gunned up and took the intersection in a controlled slide across the ruts and got the Pobeda straight and settled down.

  A-Able moving west towards the boulevard ring, light traffic. Orders?

  Stay on the air and report progress. C–Charlie calling all other stations… All other stations remain listening but do not signal unless emergency repeat do not signal unless emergency. Break pattern and head for A-Able with all speed.

  I was coming up on two taxis and a truck and pulled over to pass but the ruts were deep and I lost the rear end as the steering dug in and the momentum set up a swinging action, left to right, left to right until I changed down and put a lot of power on and broke the rhythm, one of the taxis using the horn because I'd swung too close.

  Croder dropped the call sign now: from this point there'd only be his voice and mine on the air.

  What is your direct route to the Kremlin?

  Due west by Podkolokol'nyj. Solanka, and Razina.

  Present location?

  Crossing the boulevard ring.

  The trees stood on either side, white with snow against the iron sky. The lights were changing to amber and I kept my speed constant and crossed over and gunned up a little because they'd put sand down here. The inner boulevard signal was at red and I switched my headlights full on and kept going and crossed the intersection and heard a whistle blow.

  I am now on Podkolokol'nyj. Traffic police alerted because I crossed on the red, but my rear plate is illegible.

  Acknowledged.

  I hadn't intended to take the intersections on the red because the police would use their radios and I'd be initiating a collision course with the nearest mobile patrol but the Zil would now be curving north-east across Ustjinskij prospekt and heading for the major fork at Solanka and it was the only chance of my cutting him off because if he got there first I wouldn't be able to catch him and there were no other oblique streets where I could gain on him by using angles.

  Location… Podkopajevskij on my right. I'm passing the junction now.

  Acknowledged.

  He would want to say more than that, but he left the air clear for my signals. He would want to say that I should make every conceivable effort to reach the Solanka fork before the Zil because that was the only hope we had left. He would want to say that there was a red lamp burning at the top left corner of the board for Scorpion in London and that the lamp must go out when the mission had succeeded, not because it had failed.

  A taxi was pulling away from the kerb and doing it too wide and I touched the brakes and got nothing so I used the wheel and angled the front end out of the ruts and straightened again, overcorrecting and hooking the rear bumper of the taxi: I watched it in the mirror, sliding against the kerb and bouncing and coming to a stop with the front wheels locked hard over.

  Location… Passing Ivanovskij on my right and approaching the fork at Solanka.

  Acknowledged. C–Charlie to all other stations. Keep heading for A-Able at the Solanka fork as fast as you can. If necessary ignore traffic lights.

  The nearest to me would be E-Edward, last locating south of me on the ring road at Uljanovskaja, and he would have made an illegal U-turn and come back to the intersection and turned right to follow the Zil. D-Donald had been farther to the north and would have turned west and south and would reach the Solanka fork soon after E-Edward. Bracken had last signalled from the other side of the ring road and would be coming east and rounding the walls of the Kremlin, but he had more distance to cover. In five minutes from now the Zil could be in the centre of three or four converging cars and it wouldn't be heading for the Kremlin at this time unless it had the explosive on board and that could be dangerous: Composition C-3
was relatively insensitive to impact but if the Zil crashed it could false-trigger the detonation device. If I sighted the Zil I'd need to make a signal.

  Location… Solanka fork, approaching fast, lights at red.

  I could hear a siren somewhere. I'd run the red at the boulevard intersection and hit the taxi soon afterwards and the policeman who'd blown the whistle could have radioed the network to put a car on me; or it could be F-Freddie in trouble after his failure to acknowledge or it could be just an accident somewhere in the icy streets and nothing to do with us.

  The lights were still at red and I took the Solanka fork on the low side of fifty kph with the front end stable enough in the ruts to take me close along the nearside kerb with a chance of bringing the wheel over hard if I had to, putting the Pobeda into a front-wheel skid and breaking the ruts to slow the momentum if anything came through on the green from the main fork road to my left. I wasn't risking a broadside collision because the fork road had the only right of way and the traffic would merge at forty-five degrees, but I flicked the headlights to full again and started watching the left-hand outside mirror.

  Crossing Solanka, lights at red.

  The Zil wasn't there.

  We began hitting the cross-ruts and the front end lost its line and cocked over and wouldn't come back but the wheels had some resistance left and I waited and then hit the brakes as we ploughed into the loose sand alongside the kerb and the Pobeda shook itself straight as the nearside rear wheel hit and bounced and got traction as I gunned up and settled down again with a number 55 bus a hundred yards ahead of me and nothing this side of it but a taxi. It was no go.

  No sign of the Zil. I'm across the -

  Mirror.

  Zil.

  Correction, I've got the Zil now, I've got the Zil.

  It was behind me, crossing the fork on the green with its headlights full on and coming up fast.

  Croder's voice came faintly through bad static but with a lot of control.

  Repeat, Please. Repeat signal.

  I hit the button again. I've got the Zil behind me at fifty yards and closing up on me fast. Listen, I want the others to hold off, tell them to hold off, we can't risk crashing the Zil — it's a live bomb.

  I switched to listen and heard him acknowledge and then start telling all stations to support the scene but keep clear of the Zil. He repeated and asked for acknowledgement and the others began coming in as the siren started up again from somewhere in the immediate area, another one joining it: the network had been alerted to something and the patrols were closing in.

  The bus was moving slowly in the nearside lane and I checked the mirror and pulled out in the path of the limousine behind me. In this city the Zils and Chaikas normally drive on full headlights for the police to let them through the intersections but this one began using the horns when it saw me pull out. According to Ignatov it would have the Politburo chauffeur Morosov at the wheel and he wasn't used to other vehicles getting in his way and tonight he was running two minutes late and his rendezvous was ultra-priority.

  I began slowing.

  There was still a clear lane on my offside and I waited for him to take it. The Zil was massive and could break through the ruts of snow and keep its steering stable enough to make a lot of speed through streets like these and if I let him go past me I'd lose him without any chance at all of catching him again: this was strictly a one-time operation because he now had a straight run to the Kremlin and the police would let him through every light. Through the snow haze ahead of me I could see the bright gold domes of St Basil's church at the south end of Red Square: we were less than a mile from the Kremlin now and time was running out.

  The Zil was shaping to overtake, its dark mass filling the mirror. Its horns were still blaring and its headlights blinding and I had to use my left hand as a shield against the window glass while I kept on slowing and watched the shadow of my own car on the road ahead of me: if the Zil pulled to the left or right I'd see the angle change. When it stopped hooting I could hear the sirens again, their howl loudening as they neared the area. I hit the tit.

  I've still got the Zil behind me and I'm blocking it. We're approaching Razina ulica. Several sirens going, they've been getting nearer.

  The Zil began using its horns again and I saw the angle of the Pobeda's shadow change, shifting to the left as the limousine started pulling out to the right lane in another attempt to get past. I pulled out too, blocking him again and bringing the speed down to less than forty kph. We were past the bus now but there were two taxis and a truck ahead of us on the far side of Razina ulica, the major street that ran at right angles across our path. At this point I was moving into a situation that looked strictly shut-ended: if I kept on across Razina the Zil would turn left and head directly for the Kremlin; but if I turned left on to Razina it would keep straight on and use the left turn at Kujbyseva and reach the Kremlin that way.

  Whichever I did, the Zil could peel off and get dear.

  Morosov was an experienced driver and would know every minor turning if I tried to cut him off. The Zil could go through every light and the instant its image was seen by the guards at Spassky Gate they would change the signals to green and let him through. So I would have to stop him in the next thirty seconds and I'd have to do it without making him crash because there was enough explosive on board to wreck half the block.

  Location Solanka and Razina intersection. I'm going to try stopping the Zil.

  Its massive shape was right behind me with its horns strident and its lights dazzling as I made three rapid feints to the left, right and left as we reached the intersection. Morosov reacted instantly, swerving to the right, left and right to overtake, and as he swung to the right for the last time I gunned up and went for him, nosing across his front end and forcing him to slow and then throttling into a rear-wheel slide and coming back across him and feeling the Pobeda tilt suddenly as the weight of the limousine made oblique contact. The horns had stopped now because he was having to use both hands on the wheel, and I heard the sirens again.

  There was sand on the surface here but the snow had packed into ice underneath it and for a moment I lost the Pobeda as it reacted to the impact and swung full circle and hit the kerb and came off again still swinging; but I was still on the right side of the limousine and got enough traction back to nose across its path and this time Morosov braked too hard and started sliding, the black polished bodywork veering across my windscreen as it corrected and slid again with its huge momentum taking it in a series of swings that sent it glancing against the Pobeda three times before it lost the surface and swung full circle, its speed gone and its rear wheels spinning as Morosov tried to find traction and failed.

  The Pobeda was down to crawling speed and I hit the door open and got out and began running, pitching down once on the gritty ice before I got to the Zil and wrenched at the driver's door. The sirens were coming in and a dazzle of light flooded the street as the heavy door swung open and Morosov brought a revolver into the aim and began firing too late and too high: the explosions hammered against my eardrums as I used my right hand in a rising fork strike and got the gun clear and hooked him off balance on to the roadway. He tried to get up and I chopped twice and dropped him and climbed into the Zil. The engine was still running and I slammed the door and found the throttle and teased the rear wheels into motion as a black patrol car came in from Solanka with its siren going.

  The Zil was on the move but the surface was tricky and I had to keep tapping the throttle to use the power of the huge engine to take me in a series of swings before I could straighten up and give it the gun. I'd rammed the radio into the pocket of my coat when I'd abandoned the Pobeda but there wasn't time to use it as the limousine got up speed and I swung left at the first intersection and brought the power on and settled down. The mirror grew bright but I'd got a hundred-yard lead and swung left again to work my way back to the ring road and away from the Kremlin.

  Time check: 6.07.


  1 began thinking about Schrenk. He couldn't be far away.

  I tugged the radio out of my pocket and hit the button.

  A-Able to C–Charlie… Location approaching Solanka fork road from south. I am now on board the Zil. Has anyone seen Schrenk? Has anyone seen Schrenk?

  The lights were still in the mirror but there was no siren going.

  Calling A-Able. You have three of us in your immediate area. Anyone identifying Schrenk report immediately.

  I watched the mirror. The car behind me wasn't trying to close up. It was probably D-Donald or E-Edward but it could be Schrenk.

  Who is behind me? Who is behind me?

  Schrenk had planned to radio-detonate the charge and the only way he could do that was to join the Zil on its way in to the Kremlin and then peel off and circle the area and wait for the Zil to come back through Spassky Gate. But Schrenk was a man to cover his risks and he would have done that.

  D-Donald calling… I'm following the Zil.

  I acknowledged and turned right and headed for the boulevard ring. Sirens were loudening from the left and a flood of light came into the limousine as I crossed the intersection.

  Schrenk would have covered his risks and made sure the Zil would blow, even if something stopped him doing it by radio beam. I knew that. I knew him well.

  The ruts of the snow were sending the big front wheels too far to the nearside and I brought them out and felt the rear end go and had to throttle up and break the ruts to get any bite from the treads; my speed was a rising sixty kph and there were two vehicles ahead of me in the nearside lane. A patrol car came in from the left and its lights filled the interior again; its siren was wailing and I throttled up to clear it as the driver tried to cross my bows near the Solanka fork road.

  There was no time to think but I'd have to. Schrenk would have covered his risks and the only way to be quite sure the Zil would blow would be to time the charge. And he would have timed it for five or ten minutes after six o'clock, when the Soviet chief of state would be on board. Time check: 6.o8.