Northlight

His wet brown eyes were turned on me again, this time for longer. 'That's all I want, yes. That's all I want.'

'Of course. It's what I'm here for.' I got up and stretched my legs, keeping away from the corner. 'Has our friend got any kind of transport?'

'What?'

'Car? Has he got a car?'

'No.'

'Then we'll have to hang on here for a bit. My control's getting one through to us as soon as the roads are clearer.' I got the Lithuanian's papers out of my pocket and looked at the photograph and looked at Karasov and read the description but nothing matched; even if we could get the picture changed there was nothing we could do about the measurements: Karasov was five inches taller and looked heavier. 'How much do you weigh?'

'Seventy-one kilos.'

'Have you got any kind of scar across your left shoulder?'

'No.''

I dropped these papers too into the stove and watched the flames. Fane was going to get some good ones for him and until they were in my hands and we had a car to drive we couldn't make a move, but at least it would give me time to coax him out of his shell and find what was frightening him like this.

There was something I was missing or something I didn't know and would have to know before I could get rid of the feeling that there was more, much more, to the routine mission Control had given me, of taking a blown sleeper across.

'We're getting you some effective papers,' I told him. 'Then we can move. Once you're out of Russia you can start making a new life for yourself.'

'Yes.' His eyes hung on me like a grateful dog's.

There'd be people he'd miss, I supposed. His wife. His mistress. 'I phoned Tanya,' I said, 'to let her know you were all right. She was worried.'

'Tanya?'

'Your girlfriend.'

'I don't know anyone called Tanya.'

16 BRIEFING

One of the sailors threw his cards down onto the table and got up and hauled another man off his chair and pushed him into the door and the hinges broke and the door swung down with the man on top of it. A bottle hit the floor by his head with a crash and I put my hand up to protect my eyes from flying splinters of glass.

'Cheating son of a whore!'

The sailor began kicking the man on the floor and some other people stopped him and dragged him away to the bar.

'What's that?' Fane asked me.

'Chap arguing.'

'Where are you speaking from?'

'A workers' club.' It was nearer than the post office.

The man on the floor began crawling outside, leaving a trail of blood. Two or three of his friends went out to help him.

'Debrief,' Fane told me.

'I've located the objective.' We couldn't afford to mention his name; even on an unbugged line there could be an operator with a sharp ear, and Karasov was being hunted throughout {Western Russia. 'He's lost his nerve, as you suspected. Volodarskiy is first class, for your information. Also for your information, the woman Tanya Kiselev is either a KGB swallow or she's with the Rinker cell or some other opposition group.'

I waited. It was a long pause. 'How do you know?'

'The objective denies any knowledge of her, and there'd be no point in his lying.'

'Did he mention his wife?'

'No. But he knows I'm getting him out of the country and if he sees her again it'll be in the West. There was nothing to stop him admitting he had a mistress: I wasn't likely to tell anyone.'

Another pause. 'Have you been in touch with her since your first meeting in Murmansk?'

'Yes. I phoned her to say he was safe and well.'

'You didn't say where he was?'

'Not really. He's the objective.'

'Did she ask where he was?'

'Of course.'

There was silence for another few seconds. 'It's not going to be an easy run for you.'

'Croder wouldn't have sent me otherwise.'

Glass smashed again at the far end of the room where the bar was. I couldn't see what was happening because the place was thick with tobacco smoke. I think they were having trouble with the sailor. The other man hadn't come back. There was a freezing draught coming in and two men were trying to put the door back but the hinges had been torn right out of the moulding.

'I'll signal London,' Fane said on the line. He meant about Tanya.

'Don't let anyone go near her.'

'Of course not.'

She had to go on thinking she hadn't been blown.

'I've got some transport for you,' Fane said. 'It's a black Moscwicz pickup truck loaded with grain. Where do you want it left?'

'Is it available now?'

'Yes.'

'Have it left outside the public reading room behind the main post office. There's a car park there. What's the number?'

He read it to me and I memorized it. 'I'll also need some papers for the objective. His were no good: I burned them.'

'There are some new ones on the way from Moscow by plane tonight. Unless there's any kind of hitch the courier will arrive in Kandalaksha on the 11:15 train tomorrow morning, snow conditions permitting.'

'Where do I make contact?'

'Immediately below the iron footbridge across the freight-yard at the station. There's only one bridge and one freight-yard. The rendezvous is for 11:30. If the train is delayed you'll rendezvous again at twelve noon and every hour after that, on the hour.'

'Parole?'

'He'll ask you if you're waiting for the geese. You'll tell him they were sent yesterday on the market train.'

'Roger.'

They were taking the sailor out now, singing drunk. Two other men had found a carpet from somewhere and were nailing one end across the top of the door to keep the draught out.

'As soon as you've got the papers,' Fane said, 'drive to Severomorsk, just north of Murmansk on the Kola River, the east bank. I'm going to try getting you both out by ship.'

I felt sudden hope. Fane was working more efficiently than I'd expected: he'd already found some transport and was getting the papers through and working on a plan to ship us out. There was no reason for the KGB to stop us on the drive north, and the Rinker cell hadn't picked up my scent. It looked as if we were actually going to be taking the objective to the West. End of mission, so forth.

'What's my cover story?'

'I'll leave that to you.'

'There was a thousand-to-one chance the two KGB men who'd questioned me on the train might now be helping in' the search for Karasov along the roads, so I would say that I couldn't get the job I'd hoped for at the foundry and I was earning a few rubles carting the grain to a chicken farm in the north.

'All right.'

'Do you need anything else?'

'No. Will you be in touch with the courier before tomorrow morning?'

'Yes.'

'Synchronize watches.'

'15:21.'

'That's right."

There was a short silence, then Fane said, 'Good luck.'

'Thank you.'

I hung up the receiver and pulled the carpet aside and went out under the dark afternoon sky, and heard the faint distant singing of the drunk.

'I don't see how we can get through,' Karasov said.

I'd been expecting this. He'd hardly slept during the night: he'd woken me a dozen times, turning on the straw mattress alongside mine.

Volodarskiy spat, turning away. I already knew his contempt for Karasov's lack of courage.

'Everything is arranged,' I told Karasov. 'We're going to make a short run to the coast, and there's a ship waiting.' I turned to the heavy screen of cowhides and pulled it aside, and heard the dog voice, low in its throat. The dog too had been awake in the night, disturbed by something outside.

'I would rather wait for a time,' Karasov told me, standing there with his hands hanging by his sides and his head down. 'In another week they will have stopped hunting for me.'

Volodarskiy came back from the shadows, his eyes as bright as the dog's.