Charlie came from behind the car, waving his arms high for identification and yelling for them to stop, pointing to the hidden Russians, too deaf properly to hear his own voice. The warned Roh saw one of the ambushing Russians as the man rose to shoot and the burst from the German’s machine pistol sprawled the man, chest blown open, over a BMW bonnet. Sobelov turned at Charlie’s warning and levelled his gun and Charlie realized he was going to be shot and there was nowhere to hide and that he was too close for Sobelov to miss. There was an explosion but no pain and Sobelov’s head disintegrated. Charlie saw Schumann on the far side of the car, hunched in a marksman’s crouch, gun still outstretched after the shot.
And he saw Popov behind Schumann. The Russian was edging along the car, but snatching looks inside, and appeared to see the slumped Turkel and Charlie at the same time. For a moment the gun wavered and then he brought it back to the Iraqi and Charlie screamed ‘No!’ and heard himself well enough that time. Kestler reacted first, seeing what was happening and yelling ‘No!’ as well and throwing himself forward, so that he was directly between Popov and the tiny man when Popov fired, at point-blank range, directly into the American’s chest.
It was one of the concealed Russians who killed Popov. That was also virtually at point-blank range, from the other side of the car. The shot hit Popov full in the face, hurling him into Gusev, who stumbled backwards but still managed to hit Popov’s killer, high in the shoulder to knock him sideways and down. And Gusev’s gun kept moving, less undecided than Popov, but as it swung towards the cowering Turkel, Schumann put his pistol directly against the side of the Russian’s head and said, ‘Don’t,’ and Gusev didn’t.
To Charlie, Schumann said, ‘I had to stop Sobelov killing you. I was too slow here.’
‘You were quick enough,’ said Charlie, gratefully.
‘We lost Popov, so it wasn’t a good idea.’
‘One’s enough,’ said Charlie.
chapter 38
C harlie had known for a long time that for personal reasons it was going to be the worst resolve to anything in which he’d ever been professionally involved, except obviously what had happened to Edith, which was more personal than professional. There’d been vindictive satisfaction destroying the killers who’d shot Edith. There wasn’t satisfaction now, at Aleksai Popov’s killing, although neither was there the slightest regret at the man, who’d used Sasha like he had and Natalia like he had and who’d clearly intended killing him, being blasted faceless. That perfectly fitted Charlie Muffin’s eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth interpretation. Charlie’s compassion was for Natalia.
Like it was for James Kestler’s death. The young American had been brash and gauche and unthinking and at the very beginning a total pain in the ass who’d caused a lot of inconvenience and even been a professional encumbrance, but it had all been forgivable – even the encumbrance – and Charlie had long ago forgiven the man. He’d liked him. Kestler would never have been a brilliant agent, perhaps not even a good one, because at the bottom line he’d been too genuinely decent and nice and honest. Charlie still didn’t have a clear idea of what his FBI problem had been – just that he’d been the shuttlecock and that Rupert Dean had somehow taken the racquets away – but Kestler would have been a coerced player. He guessed Kestler would have considered his silver-spoon Washington connections an embarrassing disadvantage, not a benefit.
All of which were personal feelings. Charlie knew that publicly everything would all be massaged into an overwhelming success. The Germans would have their sensational trial – maybe more than one – after throwing diplomatic niceties out the window, and Iraq would be the pariah and the whole Middle East trade would be further disrupted by the trial evidence of Ivan Raina. Russia’s foremost Mafia Family was wrecked, although it would rebuild over time, like all established organized crime groups. They still didn’t know precisely how much nuclear material had been lost – although they might after the interrogation of Petr Gusev that was shortly to start – but it was nothing like the original estimate of two hundred and fifty kilos. And according to the telephone conversation Charlie had insisted upon with Rupert Dean in London, before agreeing to be medically checked by a doctor for the unfelt lacerations from shattered glass, the department’s FBI-functioning future – and his in it, in Moscow – was irrevocably established.
Charlie winced through the administration of antiseptic and refused the offered tranquillizer although shock was still shaking through him, because he needed to remain clear-headed.
‘It’s a mistake not to take them,’ insisted the doctor.
‘This one I can avoid,’ said Charlie. There were a lot he hadn’t, but then there usually were. One day, perhaps, he’d get everything right the first time.
He was certainly determined to get everything right – answer the outstanding questions – with Petr Tukhonovich Gusev. He’d been surprised the Germans had agreed to his leading this virtually instant interrogation, although after Dmitri Fomin’s official intercession they needed an immediate admission to keep the Militia colonel in custody. It had been Schumann who’d been Charlie’s advocate – like he’d pressed Charlie’s idea of supposedly involving the two Russians at Schonefeld, expecting them to make incriminating errors – arguing Charlie was the best person to achieve the necessarily quick confession, because of his complete knowledge of the investigation, in every country.
Dmitri Fomin had insisted on attending the interrogation as an observer, just as he had insisted upon talking to Gusev in his cell upon arriving thirty minutes earlier. Charlie had hoped the presidential aide would have watched through one of the mirrored screens but the tall, aloof man followed Gusev into the same interrogation cell in which Ivan Raina had been questioned, where the recording equipment was still installed. Because they hadn’t expected a fourth person there was a delay while another chair was brought in.
Even before he sat, the head of the Moscow Militia said, ‘I would like the recording equipment started,’ and when Charlie obliged, went on, ‘I want officially to protest my arrest and detention. It is totally without justification and I demand my immediate release.’
There’d been a lot of holding cell rehearsal between the two Russians, Charlie realized. He looked at Fomin and wondered if the investigation was going to be completely solved. Charlie said, ‘Working with Stanislav Georgevich Silin, the former boss of bosses of the Dolgopmdnaya Mafia Family, and with Aleksai Semenovich Popov, operational commander of the antinuclear smuggling division of the Russian Interior Ministry, you organized the robbery of a nuclear transport train at Pizhma and were responsible for the theft of approximately two hundred and fifty kilos of highly enriched, weapons-graded plutonium 239. You are also responsible for or involved in a number of murders. Just as you were prepared at Schonefeld today to kill a man known as Ari Turkel, believing he could identify you in connection with the Pizhma theft.’
Gusev spluttered an incredulous laugh. ‘That is total and absurd fabrication.’
Fomin shook his head. ‘I demand proof of these ridiculous accusations. Unless it’s produced immediately I demand the release of Colonel Petr Gusev.’
Unspeaking, Charlie offered the single sheet of paper to Gusev.
Fomin said, ‘What is that?’
‘The record of a deposit account at the main office of Credit Suisse, in Zurich, in the sum of $8,000,000,’ identified Schumann. ‘It’s a joint signatory account, in the names of Petr Tukhonovich Gusev and Aleksai Semenovich Popov. We have bank-guaranteed examples of the signatures of both. It was opened three weeks before the Pizhma robbery by Stanislav Silin, who held another account there, jointly in the names of himself and Ivan Raina, whom as you know we have in custody on charges of smuggling plutonium from that robbery. In accordance with Swiss banking practice for accounts held by overseas clients, the Popov-Gusev records also list passport numbers. We have already compared Popov’s passport, which we took two hours ago from his body at Schonefeld.’