Quiller Meridian

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Quiller Meridian Page 22

by Adam Hall


  ‘These deaths,’ I said. ‘Who’s doing the killing?’

  ‘You cannot guess?’

  “The Podpolia?’

  ‘But of course the Podpolia.’ He lowered his voice. “There are the two factions at my barracks, just as there are in the streets — those who are ready to tighten their belts and support Yeltsin and his programme, and the core of die — hard Communists who want the old order back.’

  ‘How strong are they?’

  ‘They are not strong in numbers, but they are there, working in secrecy.’

  I’d got enough background, and broke some bread and started on the gruel. It was still hot, salty and had a flavour I didn’t recognize, didn’t particularly like. Dogs were at a premium this winter in Novosibirsk, if they had any flesh on them; I avoided the lumps of meat. ‘Vadim, ‘I said, ‘your sister told the militia only that she came to Novosibirsk to see you, as she always does when she gets leave. They can’t ask her any more questions now, but they’ll be pushing on with their enquiries, especially in Moscow. They hadn’t known, when she was at their headquarters, that her father — and your father — was ordered shot by General Velichko four years ago, or they certainly wouldn’t have released her at my request. As soon as —’

  ‘At your request…’ he said slowly, his eyes boring into me. ‘You have the power to “request” such a thing from the militia?’

  I broke more bread, leaving the gruel. ‘I haven’t the power to request anything of anyone, but I wanted your sister out of there, so I had to devise the means. My next concern is yourself. As soon as they dig up the information that you and Tanya bore a grudge against General Velichko, they’ll ask the army to arrest you and hand you over. This could happen when you go back to your unit; the military police may well be waiting for you outside your quarters.’

  His eyes deepened, hardened. ‘I see.’ then he said, ‘And Tanya?’ I liked him for that.

  ‘she’s in the safest possible hands, don’t let it worry you.’

  I assumed I could say that, for the moment. But someone had killed Roach, the support man, and Roach might have gone too close to the Hotel Karasevo, nerve — centre for Meridian, and at any given time Ferris himself, its director in the field, could need a safe — house, and urgently. It might have happened before in the annals of the Bureau, that the DIF of some mission had got blown, but it’s never happened when I’ve been in the field. The DIF is sacrosanct, untouchable, he has to be. He holds the lifeline for his executive.

  ‘You are in,’ Rusakov was saying, ‘some kind of —’ he spread his hand — ‘intelligence branch? The MPS?’

  ‘Not the MPS. I operate pretty well on my own, and you should know that. If you find yourself in trouble, I’ve no authority of any kind to pull you out of it.’ I looked across at the door of the bar as a man came in.’ You should also know, Vadim, that at this moment I’m the subject of an intense manhunt by the militia, the police and the KGB — or the MPS, as we’re now meant to call them.’

  His eyes deepened again; I’d seen the same thing in Tanya.

  ‘So,’ he said with a brief nod.

  The man looked all right, merchant seaman’s rig and cap, bundling across to the bar, freezing, desperate for a rum grog. I looked at Rusakov again. ‘I think I told you, didn’t I, that I saw your action of last night as a matter of summary justice, when Tanya told me what Velichko had done to you both.’ I was kneading a small piece of the dark, heavy bread, moulding it into a disc with a point on each side, like a spinning top. ‘Your quarrel,’ I said, ‘was with General Velichko, and not — can I assume? — with the other two, Generals Chudin and Kovalenko. But do you happen to know if they’re still here in Novosibirsk?’

  I felt time slowing down.

  How long have we got? I’d asked Ferris in that rat — infested shed where we’d made our rendezvous. Have I got any kind of a deadline?

  He’d thought it out, taken his time. Yes, we have a deadline. It’s zero.

  The generals had been Zymyanin’s target for information. That was what he’d told me before he was killed. They’d arrived in Novosibirsk and gone to ground and we had to find them, take up from where Zymyanin had left off. That was still the focus of Meridian: Zymyanin had believed that the generals had information of a kind that would trigger the alarm bells throughout the intelligence organizations of both hemispheres. We needed that information.

  We don’t know — Ferris — that they might not have already finished what they came here to do. They could be leaving Novosibirsk tomorrow morning. Or tonight.

  They might have gone by now, and I waited to hear Rusakov say precisely that. He didn’t.

  ‘General Chudin and General Kovalenko are at present the guests of my commanding officer.’

  I span my little top, and watched Meridian start running again.

  ‘Oh really,’ I said.’ the official guests?’

  ‘No. Not official.’

  ‘But it’s known to all ranks that they’re at the camp?’

  ‘It would be difficult to conceal it. Rumours are the lifeblood of the barracks. But nothing official has been posted in Daily Routine Orders or anywhere else.’

  ‘You’ve seen them? The generals?’

  ‘Only once, and at a distance, crossing from a staff car to their quarters.’

  I picked up the little top again and span it. ‘Have you any plans to wipe those two out as well, Vadim?’

  His head came up in surprise. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘I wondered if they were party to Velichko’s orders to have your father shot.’

  ‘No. It was Velichko’s personal order. I know the facts.’

  Had been rooting for those facts for four years, perhaps, until he was sure. Then he’d asked Tanya to keep watch on Velichko as best she could, in Moscow. ‘Do you know,’ I asked him, ‘why those two generals are visiting your CO?’

  ‘He himself is in the Podpolia.’

  ‘Has he got any power?’

  In surprise — ‘He is the commanding officer.’

  ‘Put it this way — if he tried to bring the whole battalion into the Podpolia, what would happen?’

  ‘There would be mutiny. He is known to belong to the hardline Communists, but he daren’t come out into the open. That is why the visit of the two generals is not being publicized.’

  ‘There’s a security guard around their quarters?’

  ‘Yes. We doubled it, after a man was seen watching the area with field — glasses from a car outside the camp.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Soon after the generals arrived. The observer drove away before he could be challenged.’

  Did he really, now.

  I put some money onto the table. ‘Vadim, I’ve got to make a telephone call. You want to wait here?’

  ‘I will leave with you.’

  We pushed our chairs back and Rusakov said,’ thank you for the —’ he gestured towards the table. For the dog soup.

  ‘My pleasure.’

  He was at the door first, holding it open for me, and the black freezing air hit us in a wave as we went outside.

  ‘Where’s your car, Vadim?’

  ‘Over there, the army jeep. I will wait for you.’

  I felt a lift of relief when Ferris picked up the phone at his end, which wasn’t reassuring: if there’s one thing the executive in the field has to count on it’s that his director is always at the other end of the telephone, inviolate. But the Roach thing had changed that.

  ‘Bit of debriefing,’ I told him.

  ‘Good.’ He didn’t give it a cheerful tone, nothing hearty, I’d have .killed him for that and he knew it. He wasn’t expecting any kind of breakthrough at this stage of the mission: there was too much stacked up against us, with the executive on the run and a wreck on the river for a safe — house.

  But at least there was this:’ the two remaining generals, I said ‘are still in Novosibirsk. They’re guests of the CO of the Russian Army unit, unoff
icially and under special protection.’ I filled him in with the details.

  ‘This is quite good,’ Ferris said when I’d finished.

  In point of fact yes, we’d caught up with the objective for Meridian, which was the information buried in the heads of those two men. The problem was that they were behind the wire fence and the sentries of a fully — manned and equipped army battalion, no real case for dancing in the streets when London received Ferris’s signal.

  ‘Rusakov,’ I said, ‘is now an ally.’

  ‘I would think so.’

  ‘I’m going to get him to keep the generals under observation while they’re in camp. He’s got men he can trust. So I’ll need you to move your best support man into the immediate field, as close as you can to the safe — house.’

  I could see Rusakov through the grime of the glass panels, sitting at the wheel of his jeep. He could be useful to us, useful in the extreme, but he was a stranger, not of the Bureau, untrained and unpredictable. I was quite sure he’d do very nearly anything I asked him to do, because of Tanya, but simple gratitude doesn’t have the high — tensile strength that underlies our neurotic devotion to the Sacred Bull, and the more reliance I put on Captain Vadim Rusakov the more dangerous it would be.

  ‘How far can we trust your captain?’ I heard Ferris asking. It wasn’t telepathy; we both knew the risk of using strangers.

  ‘I don’t know him well enough to answer that. All I can do is be careful. How close can you get your support man to the safe — house?’

  ‘Five kilometres,’ Ferris said. He had the map in front of him.

  ‘With a secure telephone?’

  ‘Yes.’ He gave me the number.

  ‘All right, and I’ll need a mobile radio link.’

  ‘Noted.’

  ‘And a map showing the location of the army camp. When he approaches, he should whistle the Fifth.’ then I asked Ferris — hadn’t meant to — ‘How are things your end?’

  ‘You worry too much.’

  Right, you do not ask your director in the field how things are with him; he must be seen at all times to be as secure in his sanctum as is the Oracle in Delphi.

  I wouldn’t have asked him, perhaps, if Tanya weren’t also there. He would know that. Ferris knows everything.

  We shut down the signal and I forced the door of the booth back and went across to the jeep and got in.’ Vadim, would you be able to keep the generals under covert observation while they’re in camp? Use some of your men?’

  ‘That would be quite easy. Their quarters are in a separate building from the barracks.’

  ‘Then I want you to do that. Look, we need to write things down. Is there —’

  ‘Here.’ He reached across the seat and got a clipboard from the rear of the car and pulled the pencil out of its slot.

  I gave him the phone number I’d got from Ferris and told him to write it down. ‘Vadim, that number is classified. Understand that.’

  He looked at me in the glow of light from the dashboard. ‘I understand. You may trust me. Do you know that?’ He waited.

  ‘Of course. It’s just that if you found yourself forced at some time to answer questions, it might be difficult —’

  ‘You may trust me in any circumstances.’ His eyes held mine.

  ‘Fair enough. So look, if you find anything to report to me on the generals, phone that number and give your name. He’ll be our liaison. Your name is also classified, so don’t worry. I want to know whenever those people make a move. When they leave camp I want to know where they go. Can you have them tracked?’

  Rusakov thought about that, stroking a circle on the lined yellow clipboard sheet with his finger. Muster all ranks, ‘B’ Platoon, 18:00 hrs, for kit inspection had been written across the top, then crossed out. ‘It might be difficult,’ he said at last, ‘to send out a vehicle at short notice. I’d have to submit an order for it beforehand, and give the destination and purpose — except in an emergency, of course. But it would be difficult, again, to claim an emergency at a time when the generals were initiating transit.’

  ‘Yes, blow the whole thing. Then see what information you can get hold of before they leave camp. See if you can get their destination from the transport section.’

  ‘That would be easier, yes.’

  Two men came out of the Harbour Light, slamming the door behind them, one of them bent over, laughing, the other one taking a leak against the wall, steam clouding up in the lamplight. ‘All right,’ I said to Rusakov, ‘I’ll leave it to you. Anything you can do to get me information will be a blow against the Podpolia. But you’ll have to keep in mind the fact that sooner or later the militia’s going to ask the army for your arrest.’ I looked at him in the glow of the dashboard. ‘Have you any kind of bolt — hole you can go to in the town?’

  He thought about that too. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where?’

  He looked down.’ the house of a friend.’

  ‘she’d be ready to shelter you? Keep you hidden?’ He was silent. ‘I’ve got to know,’ I told him, ‘because I want to keep in contact.’

  He looked up again.’ she would help me, yes.’ He wrote on the pad and tore a strip of it off and gave it to me. ‘Her name is Raisa.’

  The two men were lurching across the snow to a pick — up truck with a mast lying across the rear, a furled sail round it; the domed glass of the lamp at its head caught the light from the bar, a ruby eye in the fog creeping from the river.

  I put the strip of paper away. ‘Is there a fellow officer,’ I asked Rusakov, ‘or one of the men under you, who has your absolute trust?’

  ‘Yes.’ this time he hadn’t had to think about it. ‘A master — sergeant.’

  ‘All right. If you can’t avoid arrest, can he take your place? Make contact with me?’

  In a moment,’ I will ask him.’

  ‘You’re not sure he’ll —’

  ‘I will ask him as a formality. But he will do it.’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Bakatin.’

  ‘Master — sergeant Bakatin. Then —’

  ‘But I must tell you,’ Rusakov said, his eyes suddenly on mine, ‘I shall resist arrest. I shall resist very strongly.’

  ‘Of course. You put an apparatchik thug out of the way, no earthly reason to suffer for it.’ I took my glove off and offered my hand. ‘Keep in touch, then.’

  I put the Skoda in the same place as before, under the cover of the fallen roof of the shed, and walked the half mile to the river, taking time to check the environment and going aboard the hulk just after half — past eleven, with the moon floating above the dark skeletonic arm of a grain elevator downriver.

  The starboard bow of the Natasha had been stove in when she’d been wrecked, and I spent an hour shifting loose timber, stacking it against the bulkheads to form a tunnel that ran aft from the entrance to the cabin below deck and led to the smashed hatchway at the stern. Rats ran in the beam of the flashlight; they couldn’t get at the provisions but they’d scented them and moved in to reconnoitre.

  When the tunnel was finished I tested it out, checking for loose boards that might make a noise, leaving the flashlight in the cabin and feeling my way through the dark towards the hatch at the stern. I didn’t think I’d need an escape route to deck level because Ferris would have tightened the whole support network after Roach had been blown, but these were confined quarters and if anyone came down here with a gun I wouldn’t have any answer except to get out before he could use it.

  It’s just a touch of the usual paranoia, that’s all.

  Get out of my bloody life.

  I went through the escape tunnel half a dozen times in the dark to get used to it, the feel of the timbers and the lie of the ground, the smell of rope in the chain locker and the crack of light between the Boards just below the deck where a lamp on the shore made a gleam, establishing my bearings, making the journey twice as fast and in more silence the last time through.

  Heating some water a
nd washing, I tried to feel that Meridian had got back on track tonight: the generals were still hi Novosibirsk and I had their exact location and it looked as if we could rely on Rusakov at least to signal a warning when they made a move, and that was about as good as I could expect at this stage of the mission.

  I don’t know if I’d managed to convince myself about this but it didn’t really matter because it was less than an hour later when I heard the first four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony come whistling softly through the dark and the support man came below deck with the radio for me and said he couldn’t raise Ferris any more on the telephone, the night porter at the Hotel Karasevo said that room was empty now.

  Chapter 21

  ROGUE

  He stood there watching me, Frome, he’d said his name was, the wavering light of the candle moving the shadows across his face, its reflection in his eyes, two pale flames, his breath clouding on the air.

  Floating ice, colliding with the stem of the hulk, rang in the silence.

  ‘And the woman?’ I asked him. ‘Rusakova?’

  ‘she’s gone too.’

  He watched me, hands in bus — driver’s gauntlets hanging at his sides, moisture glistening on his fur hat where he’d caught it, I suppose, when he’d ducked down through the hole in the timbers up there, bringing away snow.

  ‘And all measures are being taken,’ I said, a statement, not a question, something to say while I thought things out, of course all measures were being taken to find the DIF, at least find his tracks.

  I felt like an astronaut — this is the nearest I can get to the idea of what it’s like — losing one end of his life — line when he’s out there on a spacewalk, floating away.

  ‘Did he leave anything in his room?’ I asked Frome.

 

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