‘I fixed the Pizhma robbery my way,’ said Sobelov. ‘I even started the war between the Chechen and the Ostankino just the way you planned, to send everyone around in circles. So there’s only one thing I want…’
Silin shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He was very frightened, knowing he’d totally lost.
‘I want the Moscow contacts, to the nuclear material.’
‘Go to hell,’ managed Silin.
‘That’s where you’re going. But not until I’ve had my fun. You’re going to tell me what I want, you know. You won’t be able to stop yourself.’
He wouldn’t, determined Silin. Whatever they did to him he’d beat the bastards over that.
chapter 23
C harlie was first alerted at Lesnaya by the night duty officer at the British embassy, relaying a message from the London Watch Room. He and Kestier both jammed their phones trying to reach the other until Charlie realized what was happening and left his line free, for the American’s call. Charlie said, philosophically, it had been inevitable and that he was surprised it hadn’t broken sooner. The more subdued Kestier hoped it wouldn’t screw the Russian cooperation and promised to be in touch the following day. Which he was, by nine, already at the embassy.
‘It’s incredible,’ Kestier insisted. ‘I had a round-up sent overnight. There isn’t a newspaper or a media outlet in the West that hasn’t made it their major story. The comparison with Chernobyl was inevitable, I suppose. Like the death tolls in Japan in 1945. Washington’s going to make some announcement during the day; maybe the President himself.’
Kestier was as quiet-voiced as he had been the previous night, which Charlie supposed was natural if the usually ebullient younger man believed things had reached presidential level. ‘Where did the story origininate from?’
‘Reuter. Under a Moscow dateline.’
Which wasn’t really the answer to his question but Charlie accepted, philosophical still, it wouldn’t ever be answered because the source would be impossible to trace. If the American reaction was anything like Kestier was suggesting, it would be mirrored in London with more soggy cornflakes. Despite the time difference, he should be at the embassy. ‘You tried contacting Popov?’
There was a pause from the other end of the line. ‘Still too early.’
Forcing the thought, Charlie wondered if the Russian would still be with Natalia at Leninskaya. The apartment didn’t give any indication even of overnight stays but he hadn’t seen enough of it properly to judge. ‘I’ll try him from the embassy: let you know what happens.’
‘Likewise.’
Rupert Dean’s call came thirty minutes after Charlie got to Morisa Toreza, while he was still collating the coverage from the news agency services monitored at the embassy; as well as breaking the original story Reuter had assembled a media round-up which showed Kestler had not exaggerated the worldwide reaction. Chernobyl was invoked in practically every story. So was Japan.
‘This going to create a problem for us?’ demanded the Director-General.
‘They could make it into one,’ assessed Charlie, realistically.
‘What’s their advantage?’
‘Externally, nil. Internally we’ve still got a lot of buck-passing and the resentment of that earlier business at our inclusion.’
‘What about the damned investigation?’
‘Secondary, to keeping jobs at the top. This will be used, somehow, by anyone wanting to cover themselves.’ He had to reach Natalia somehow, to find if it was being used against her.
‘This is too serious for buck passing, for God’s sake!’
‘It’s because it’s so serious that everyone’s trying to get out of the firing line.’ Dean wasn’t accustomed to bureaucracy, Charlie remembered.
‘You spoken to the Americans?’
‘Briefly. There could be a statement from Washington later, maybe by the President himself.’
‘There’s going to be a parliamentary announcement here. I need guidance, for the Foreign Office briefing.’
The uncertainty about job security wasn’t confined to Moscow, remembered Charlie. ‘Anything going to be disclosed about my being here?’
‘I don’t see any reason for there to be,’ said the Director-General.
‘Was there any voice transmission picked up at GCHQ from the American satellite?’ demanded Charlie, abruptly.
There was a silence from London. ‘What’s that got to do with what we’re talking about?’
‘Maybe a lot if I’ve got to have a reason to go on being included by the Russians.’
‘There was some audio pick-up. I don’t think it was complete; it’s being translated and analyzed now. You’ll get it before the day’s out: original text and translation.’
‘I called the Watch Room last night,’ embarked Charlie, cautiously.
‘Why?’
‘To find out if there was a voice transcript on its way,’ He allowed a silence. ‘The Watch Room said there was a Red Alert but that my control was Peter Johnson. I thought you were supervising everything personally?’
Now the silence, much longer, came from the Director-General. ‘I don’t know anything about this. It was a mistake, obviously.’
By whom and for what reason, wondered Charlie, recalling the appointment antipathy rumours and familiar enough with internal politics to know the personal danger of getting his balls caught between a rock and a hard place. ‘I’m worried about mistakes with two hundred and fifty kilos of atomic material running around loose.’
‘So am I,’ sighed Dean. ‘I’ll look into it.’
‘I am to continue to report to you?’ Was he choosing the right side, if internal battles were being fought? Upon whose side was the industrious Thomas Bowyer?
‘ Solely to me.’
The stress was sufficient for a man as nuance-conscious as Charlie. It had been a comforting impression imagining a similarity between Sir Archibald Willoughby and Rupert Dean. But at the same time there’d been some things which hadn’t settled quite so well in his mind and now Charlie didn’t feel as comforted any more. He was suddenly aware of Bowyer lingering at the cubicle door. ‘I know, sir, it’s clearly inappropriate at this moment but I think we should have a detailed discussion about various aspects of my position here.’
‘I think we probably should,’ accepted the man. ‘Let’s talk first about what guidance I’m going to give the Foreign Office.’
‘How much time do I have before your briefing? And the parliamentary statement?’ asked Charlie, pitching the entire exchange as much for his hovering observer as for Rupert Dean.
‘Six hours, maximum. I’d like to hear earlier.’
The station head hurried into the room the moment Charlie replaced the secure telephone. ‘That the DG?’
‘Morning!’ greeted Charlie, brightly.
‘Was that the DG you were talking to?’ repeated Bowyer.
Charlie was a man of many dislikes: high on the list was calling things or people by acronyms or initials. ‘Who?’
‘Dean!’ capitulated Bowyer at last, exasperated. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Yes,’ said Charlie, replying in sequence. ‘Reuter broke the news of the robbery.’
‘It seemed serious,’ said Bowyer, actually nodding towards the telephone.
Which is what I wanted you to imagine, you snide little bugger, thought Charlie. ‘They’ll probably try to pin the leak on us: us or the Americans. Or both.’ He guessed Bowyer would go through the tiny office with a toothcomb and vacuum at the first opportunity.
‘What are you going to do?’
The perennial question, identified Charlie. Which naturally led to thoughts of rea ction and pro action and from there to the idea which had come to him at the previous day’s briefing, adjusted and refined to Charlie Muffin rules. ‘Wait to see what the Russians do,’ he said, reluctantly.
Charlie tried to get it by telephoning Popov, but the personal number rang out unanswered on the first two occasions and on the third the woman whose voice he recognized insisted Popov was not available and she did not know when he would be. Charlie left his name. With nothing else practical to do, Charlie called the American embassy and was told James Kestler was momentarily out of his office and wasn’t responding to his bleeper. Neither was Barry Lyneham, who was also absent from his office. Briefly Charlie considered asking for Hillary Jamieson but didn’t. Instead he retrieved the original Reuter message to dissect with a surgeon’s care. Here, as so often elsewhere, Chernobyl and Japan were mentioned but Charlie ignored the reference, expertly recognizing the cuttings library additions to expand a major story to its maximum. He also scored through the other background material and speculation about the size of the Russian nuclear stockpile, the agreements and difficulties of recovering it from former satellite republics and the smuggling trade that had followed the end of the Cold War. He was left with the barest details of the failed attempt at Kirs, with the number of arrests and the identification of the Families to which the arrested men belonged, and an equally sparse account of the successful robbery at Pizhma of a special Kirov to Murom nuclear cargo train, with the loss of nineteen containers of plutonium 239. An unknown scientific source was quoted insisting no serious or long-lasting danger had been created at Pizhma by the abandoned containers being breached.