“The head of Cougar.”
“Yes.”
“They must have great pressure exerted on you for you to have told him that,” he said. “Is it just him? Him alone?”
“I believe that.”
“I see,” he said again. “The knot tightens.”
“He’s acting outside the CIA, according to him. Just his own intelligence company. He wants Cougar to have you, and Cougar alone.”
“Very wise of him. I don’t want the CIA.”
She was surprised. He was echoing Burt’s own position.
“I believe Miller has at least a chance of controlling a source,” Mikhail said. “But for how long?”
“I told him the deal, as far as I was concerned, was that all information should go to the CIA from now on.”
“Not a good idea. Including my name?”
“No. Excluding that.”
“What makes you think the CIA will go along with that? The failure in the Iraq War was due to secondary sources. That’s where the false information came from. Secondary sources of the British and Americans who had been reliable up to that point, but were wrong in their assessment of Iraq’s capabilities. The current directive at MI6 and, I believe, also at the CIA is that no more decisive information will be accepted from secondary sources.” He looked at her. “In this, you would be the secondary source, as far they’re concerned. They’ll want direct access to me.”
She didn’t answer.
“So no CIA,” he said.
“They’ll try to blackmail you if you don’t agree to work with them,” she said. “If they ever find your identity.”
“Maybe Burt Miller too. They will threaten kompromat against me, threaten to reveal my identity to the Kremlin. Of course they will have their threats. But I’m sure I will also convince the Kremlin that it is so much black propaganda, an attempt to sow seeds of suspicion on the Russian side. Their threats will not have any solidity. In the world of paranoia, paranoia itself can be your friend as well as your enemy.”
He sighed.
“One day I would like to see your son, Anna,” he said.
“I hope so,” she replied.
“So.” He clapped his hands on his knees and stood up from the pile of tarpaulins he’d been sitting on. He dusted the back of his coat with his hands.
“I’ll look for Icarus,” he said. “We’ll see how we do. The future will take care of itself.” He withdrew a piece of paper from the pocket of his coat, wrote something down, and gave it to her.
“Our next meeting,” he said.
They kissed each other on the cheeks in the Russian way. She was taken aback.
“Unlike me, you are ageing quite well.” He smiled at her. Then he held out an arm towards the door. “Until the next time,” he said.
She looked through two small grilles at either end of the hut, and when she was assured there was nobody to see her, she left too. She jogged for a few hundred yards, memorising the details he had given her. Then she screwed the paper into a ball and hurled it into the river.
Chapter 31
SHE DECIDED TO JOG. She was dressed for it; the hat and earmuffs covered enough of her face to make her sufficiently anonymous, and she guessed they would not be looking for a jogger, even if they should happen to be aware of her passing figure. And it was only fifty blocks.
She set off downtown, keeping under the West Side Highway in the protection of the concrete pillars, then cut back out to run along the river path to check in front and behind her. After ten blocks she cut in towards Eleventh Avenue and, turning right, continued in the same direction towards Chelsea. It took her less than half an hour to reach Twenty-third Street, and she paused at the end of the street and stood in the shadow of a newsstand to take in the block ahead of her to her left.
Then she ran on, pausing a block at a time, until she reached the block where the apartments were.
She checked the phone box and saw it was empty. Wherever they were, she didn’t expect there to be a heavy presence right under their own noses.
She entered the box, called the number, and imagined the flurry of activity in the rooms that stretched eight windows along the fourth floor. From the box she could see them on the far side of the street.
A boy took the call. She asked for Burt, and there was another pause so they could again gain time to zero on her location. Finally Burt came on the line.
“Well, good morning,” he said. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did. Are you going to let me in?”
“Where are you?”
“Looking at your window.”
She heard Burt chuckle. “I’ll send Larry down. He hasn’t had much sleep, I’m afraid, so be nice to him.”
She put the phone down and jogged across the street, up past the underground garage, and saw the door open and Larry standing there.
“Hello, Larry.”
“Hi, Anna.”
“I’m starving.”
“You’d better come in, then.”
They stepped into the elevator, Larry opening his arm to usher her inside.
On the way up she said, “I’m sorry for the trouble, Larry.”
He grinned at her, but she saw exhaustion in his eyes.
“I’ll tell you, we turned half of downtown over last night. I saw places I never dreamed existed.”
“Is Logan up there?”
Larry grinned again. “I saw your note. What are you planning to do to him?”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know what your gripe is.”
“The biggest.”
“I’ll break the little creep’s arms any time you say.”
“I’m sure I can manage that myself, thanks, Larry.”
“I’m sure you can.” He nodded.
Burt was waiting personally for them at the elevator. He took her alone to an empty room at the far end of the corridor, where there was no surveillance equipment, just two chairs. Dupont arrived then with a third chair and shut the door behind him.
“France… ,” Burt began.
“Never mind that,” she replied. “It’s the past.”
He looked at her with the admiration of someone meeting a true genius for the first time.
“I met with Mikhail,” she said.
“Good,” Burt answered, back to the present. “What’s the score?”
“We have another meeting. He will tell me then about Icarus.”
“Good. And Vladimir?”
“Work in progress. He knows what you want. I passed on the message.”
“And further contact?”
“Yes,” she said. She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t press her to.
Burt’s phone rang.
“Five minutes,” he said, and clicked it off. He looked at her. “Adrian’s arrived,” he said. “Another jackal in for the kill.”
“What does he want?”
“Same as everyone—Mikhail. But we have Mikhail, don’t we, Anna? Just us.”
“Maybe,” she said. “He committed to nothing beyond looking for Icarus.”
“Then the door is ajar.”
“Maybe,” she said again. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
Burt laughed, enjoying himself.
“Like I say, expectations are for dummies,” he said. “You’ll want to take a shower,” he said expansively. “Marcie has your clothes. How did you spend the night? Comfortably, I hope.”
“Very.”
Burt laughed hugely.
“I hope this is the beginning of a long friendship between us,” he said.
“Be careful, Burt, that’s a hope,” she replied. Then: “A shower would be good. I’ve had a long run. And I’d like to call Little Finn. I didn’t manage it yesterday.”
“Of course,” he said. “You’ll be seeing him very soon too.”
“And Logan?” she said. “I don’t trust myself if I see him.”