‘That’s a matter for you,’ said Charlie, disconcerted.
‘I think we should, in a moment,’ replied Kalenin. ‘I’ve worked out the crossing with great care and I don’t want anything to go wrong: it’s best he hears at the same time as you.’
‘We’ve also done a fair amount of planning,’ guaranteed Charlie.
Kalenin nodded again. He’s patronising me, thought Charlie.
‘The money will be in Austria?’ demanded Kalenin.
‘I’ve already lodged it at the embassy,’ said Charlie.
‘Good,’ praised Kalenin. ‘Good. You really do seem to have put some thought into it.’
The General turned, looking towards the American.
‘To avoid repetition, shall we join Mr Braley now?’
It would have been relatively easy to compare pictures taken in Austria and France against those of former personnel at the Moscow Embassy, supposed Charlie.
The American saw them approaching and moved against the parapet, gazing fixedly at the view.
‘Are there many pictures of our meeting, Mr Braley?’ greeted Kalenin.
Braley’s chest pumped uncertainly.
‘We were photographed as well as seen during the money-changing,’ enlightened Charlie, feeling sorry for the C.I.A. man.
Braley swallowed, trying to curb the nervous reaction.
‘Good day, sir,’ he said to the Russian, awkwardly.
It sounded a ridiculous greeting in the circumstances and Charlie wanted to laugh. Nerves, he thought.
Kalenin continued walking, without replying, leading them from the bridge. He appeared very confident, thought Charlie; too confident, even. The man could ruin the whole thing by conceit, thought the Englishman, worriedly.
‘There’s a very attractive horologue in the old town,’ lectured Kalenin, like a tourist guide, as they reached the covered pavement. ‘And some pleasant cafés.’
Charlie and Braley exchanged looks, but said nothing. The American was as uncertain as he was, saw Charlie.
Kalenin made a point of showing them the gilded timepiece before courteously seating them at a pavement table and ordering drinks. He and Braley had beer, but Charlie selected coffee.
‘I have been thinking very deeply about what is to happen,’ said Kalenin slowly. He was speaking, thought Charlie, as Cuthbertson would have addressed a class at staff college.
Kalenin looked directly at both before continuing.
‘I have become increasingly aware of the enormous value I have in the West,’ said the General. ‘Upon reflection a value far in excess of $500,000.’
Braley moved to speak, anticipating a change of mind in the Russian, but Kalenin raised his hand imperiously, stopping the interruption. From somewhere in the square, Charlie knew, there would be cameras recording every moment of the encounter: the admiration of the horologe and selection of the conveniently free café table was very rehearsed.
‘I am determined to be properly treated,’ continued Kalenin.
He was ill at ease with pomposity, thought Charlie.
‘I don’t think you need have any doubt about that,’ assured the Briton.
Kalenin looked at him, irritably.
‘Allow me to finish,’ he demanded. ‘As I have already indicated, I will cross over on the nineteenth. I’ve arranged a visit to the border area in such a way as to allay any suspicion. I have selected Jaroslavice as the crossing point …’
The General paused.
‘… don’t forget that,’ he instructed.
‘… Jaroslavice isn’t on the border,’ corrected Charlie, immediately.
Kalenin sighed. ‘I know,’ he accepted. ‘I mention the town for map reference. I shall cross at Laa an der Thaya. I preseume you will have people back at Stronsdorf, but that won’t be enough …’
Charlie smiled at the man’s behaviour. It wasn’t natural, he knew. But Kalenin was sustaining it well.
‘We won’t forget the crossing point,’ he promised.
Kalenin looked at him sharply, suspecting mockery.
‘I’ve not the slightest intention of crossing in the vague expectation of a reception committee in Stronsdorf,’ announced the General. ‘I must know the arrangements that have been made to receive me in the West. And be assured they will be followed.’
Braley looked questioningly at Charlie, who nodded.
‘You were quite right, sir,’ began the American at last, ‘in your assessment of your importance. If it will convince you of our awareness of it, let me say that both the British and American Directors are personally making the trip to Austria to greet you …’
Kalenin beamed.
‘Exactly,’ he said, apparently not surprised by the news. ‘That’s at exactly the sort of level I want to conduct the whole affair.’
Charlie began to feel better and waved for more drinks, ordering a beer for himself this time. He stared around the square, trying to identify the watchers. It was hopeless, he decided, abandoning the search.
‘What time do you intend to be at Laa?’ he asked the Russian.
‘Night will be best,’ said Kalenin, immediately. ‘According to my estimate, if we travel through Ernstbrunn and Korneuburg, we can reach Vienna in little over an hour …’
Charlie nodded, doubtfully. Longer, he would have thought.
‘… I want you waiting on the Austrian side of the border promptly at 10.30. But not before. I don’t want a caravan of cars attracting attention,’ ordered Kalenin.
‘It’ll hardly be dark,’ complained Braley.
‘Dark enough,’ insisted Kalenin.
‘Shouldn’t we arrange a contingency situation, in case there is any cause for your being delayed?’ asked Charlie.
Kalenin smiled sympathetically at the Englishman.
‘Instructing me on trade-craft?’ he mocked.
‘Trying to guarantee a successful operation, General,’ retorted Charlie, tightly.
‘Nothing will go wrong,’ said Kalenin, confidently. ‘Nothing at all.’
He raised his glass, theatrically.
‘To a perfect operation,’ he toasted.
Feeling uncomfortable, both Charlie and Braley drank.
‘And another thing,’ said Kalenin. ‘I want the money brought to the border. I want to see it …’
‘… But …’ Charlie began.
‘… I want to see it,’ cut off Kalenin, definitely.
He stared at Charlie, alert for any challenge.
Charlie shrugged. ‘As you wish,’ he said.
‘I wish,’ picked up Kalenin. ‘And please inform your people …’ he paused, ‘… on both sides of the Atlantic,’ he qualified, ‘of my insistence at being accorded the proper reception and continued treatment befitting my position.’
‘We’ll inform them,’ undertook Charlie. It would be interesting to see the reaction of both Directors when the tape was played in London, he thought.
‘There need be no further contact between us,’ said Kalenin, curtly. ‘You know the crossing point and my demands …’ he hesitated, looking at Charlie. ‘… be at Laa,’ he instructed the Englishman. ‘I shall remain in Czechoslovakia until I’m personally sure you hold the money and the Directors are somewhere in the capital.’
Charlie nodded, frowning.
‘You want me to make another crossing into communist territory?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ smiled Kalenin, easily. ‘What possible apprehension need you have? It’ll only be a few yards.’
Abruptly the tiny Russian stood up.
‘I will leave you,’ he said. He turned, then came back to them.
‘Until the nineteenth,’ he said.
Charlie and Braley watched the tiny figure bustle across the square and disappear along one of the covered pavements.
Braley extended his examination of the square, like Charlie aware they had been placed by design at the particular café table. They paid, rose and without talking, suspicious that listening devices might have been installed, walked into the open.