A major factor in his success was his intelligence network. ‘Information is power’ was his favourite quote, and his network was legend. It was said, he had more contacts across the world than the CIA, especially in the Former Soviet Union.
Orlov was at the big desk that reputedly once belonged to Winston Churchill when Olga, his long-standing PA, entered. ‘Excuse me, Mitri.’ the informality was accepted and expected when they were alone. ‘There’s been a strange message.’
The old man looked up and smiled. ‘Really? Something interesting I hope?’
Olga placed a leather folder on the desk. Dimitri put on his spectacles and picked up a print-out of a photograph. ‘That’s Jack. Looks to be in a railway station.’
‘Yes, and I think the man with him, is a friend of his from Moscow.’
The old man squinted slightly. ‘Yes, Bogdan, Bogdan Markov.’
Olga tapped the other sheet in the folder. ‘This is a printout of the message that came with the photograph.’
Your son-in-law does not know what he is involved in. British Intelligence has put him at great risk. We are your friends Orlov. We wish to help you and him.
Mitri looked up. ‘Where was the picture taken?’
Olga took the paper and pointed to a sign a few yards behind Jack. Again, he squinted. ‘PODGORICA… That’s Montenegro.’
‘Da.’
‘How did we get this?’
‘Came into my company email.’
Orlov stood and went to the big windows and looked out over the shimmering waters of the Arabian Gulf. After several seconds he turned and said, ‘You think this is genuine, Olga?’
‘I can’t see any benefit to them if it isn’t. They don’t ask for anything. They say they wish to help. But with what?’
He looked at the message again. Before he could speak, she picked up his smartphone and handed it to him.
He smiled, ‘Thank you, darling.’
Chapter Twenty Eight
As the train passed through the outskirts of Sarajevo, Jack watched as the still ruined and burnt out buildings, flashed past, the legacy from one of the most brutal conflicts in modern history. Jack thought he saw the slightest of tears in his friend’s eyes, as he too took in the derelict and forgotten home-ships.
‘Back in the badlands, buddy.’
The big man nodded and said nothing.
‘Lost friends?’
Bogdan nodded again in silence.
Jack’s smartphone beeped, breaking into the pair’s reveries. He swiped the screen and said, ‘Mitri. How are you? Everything okay?’
‘Hello, my boy. I’m fine, everything’s fine with me. How about you?’
Bogdan saw the puzzled look on his friend’s face.
‘Whatsup, Mitri?’
‘Where are you, Jack?’
‘We’re just coming into Sarajevo. Why, what is it, sir?
‘We’ve received a rather cryptic message.’
‘Okay? About what?’
‘You, Jack.’
Jack frowned. ‘Saying what?’
‘Olga’s forwarding it to your phone as we speak.’
‘Okay, hold on please.’
Bogdan said quietly, ‘Problem?’
Jack shrugged, as his smartphone pinged the incoming message. He opened the photo, then turned the screen to Bogdan. Jack read the message, and it too was shown to his friend.
‘Where did you get this, Mitri?’
‘Came into Olga’s company email.’
‘Okay. Can’t really talk here, we’re still on the train. I’ll call you back when we get someplace a little more private, sir.’
‘Very well. Take care, my boy.’
Sarajevo Central looks more like an old-fashioned airport terminal, than a rail station. Built in the 70’s by the Former Soviet Union and, with its curved central structure and high arched roof, speaks to an era long gone. Nowadays, this rather large edifice is far too big for the number of trains it services.
Their train pulled into the unwelcoming platform and Jack and Bogdan disembarked with the rest of the arriving passengers. The weather was warm and pleasant, and the morning sun shone in a cloudless sky. They made their way to the exit and across the large square at the front of the terminal.
‘There,’ said Bogdan, pointing to a small hotel on the far side of the main road.
Jack nodded, and they headed for the hostelry.
The interior had been modernised and was far more hospitable than the exterior would suggest. At the rear was a large garden area, which was set out as a restaurant and currently serving breakfast.
‘This’ll do, buddy,’ said Jack
‘Da,’ said the big man, ‘I’m starving.’
They took a table in the corner, under the shade of a small olive tree.
In broken English, a young woman bid them good morning, then, pointing to a small service counter, said, ‘Please help to buffet. I bring tea coffee?’
‘Tea, please. Two,’ said Jack, showing two fingers to ensure understanding.
The woman smiled and left.
‘You gonna eat, boss?’
‘Yeah, in a minute, buddy. I’ll call Dimitri first. You go ahead.’
The phone rang once. ‘Jack.’
‘Mitri, Hello again, sir.’
‘What are you up to over there, Jack?’
‘Can’t say too much, sir. This line is not totally secure.’
‘I understand. So, what do you think about the message?’
Jack paused for a few seconds, then said, ‘I had some unwelcome guest in my room last night.’
‘Are you okay, my boy?’
‘A few bruises and a sore head, but nothing serious.’
‘I don’t know why you still get involved with this kind of thing, Jack.?’
‘With respect, Mitri, now’s not the time.’
‘No, of course. You were saying?’
‘Just a second, sir.’ Jack waited as the woman left the tea-pot. He nodded thanks and put the phone back to his ear. ‘So I guess we were being watched, but by whom? The message was not threatening, so maybe they do wish to help? But who are they?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that, Jack. Olga managed to source the origin of the email. She tells me the IP address was somewhere in Italy. Most likely Florence.’
‘Okay. Not sure what that means, Mitri.’
‘I think I might. Can you give me an hour or so?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Good. Sit tight and I’ll get back to you.’
‘Will do. Thank you Mitri. Oh, and, sir.’
‘Yes?’
‘No mention of this if you’re speaking to Nicole.’
‘No, of course not, my boy.’
The line went silent.
Bogdan returned with a large plate piled high with cheese, smoked sausage, olives, boiled eggs and bread. A second plate held half a dozen Danish pastries.
Jack grinned. ‘A bit peckish are we, big man?’
Bogdan took his seat and poured some tea. ‘Da.’
Jack poured some tea and helped himself to one of the pastries. Bogdan looked like he was about to cry. ‘Calm down I’ll go and get some more.’
The Russian grinned as he loaded cheese and sausage onto a thick slice of crusty bread.
‘What did Orlov say?’
‘He’s gonna make some enquires, getting back to us. We’ll sit it out here before we make our next move.’
Bogdan nodded as he chomped away on his food.
Jack swiped his smartphone screen and waited. ‘Jack.’
‘Good morning. darling.’
‘You ok, Zaikin?’
‘I’m fine babe. How’s the girls.’
‘Playing up this morning. Svetlana is having trouble getting them ready. And I have to go into London for a meeting.’