Quiller KGB

He didn't ask for any explanation because if I wanted to give him one I would do that. We'd got twenty-four hours left to bring home Quickstep and if I could do it for the price of a second-hand 280SE they'd call it pocket-money in London.

'More?'

'I want official freedom of passage from East Germany to the West in the name of Frau Hilda Marlene Blum. Her identity number is 325-A-467-10, date of birth July 9 1937, place of birth, Berlin. Ask — '

'East or — ' then something like oh, come on. He was feeling the strain.

'Ask Yasolev to see to it. There's no immediate rush, but before this time tomorrow the shit's going to hit the fan and I'd like things in order as soon as possible.'

Making notes.

'The pass should be left at the bank together with the funds, in an envelope with the KGB seal on it.'

'One or two?'

Not Cone. Gunter, in the doorway.

'Two.'

'What?'

'I was talking to someone.' Eggs.

'Am I going to be able to reach you?'

'Only by phone.' I gave him the number and he sounded relieved. 'I commend your fortitude,' I said.

'You know you can get me thrown out, don't you?'

'Yes.'

He wasn't joking. The director in the field is expected to keep control of the executive in terms of his whereabouts in every phase of the mission providing the executive can remain in signals with him. I was going to remain in signals but I wasn't going to tell him where I'd gone to ground and that left him way out on a limb and Bureau One could cut off his career the moment he got back to London for final debriefing.

Hiss from the kitchen as the eggs went into the pan. 'Look,' I said carefully, 'I think you know when any given DIF runs me through a mission he's likely to lose track if that's how I want things to go. Shepley knows it too. I don't think he'll come down on you if I can't bring this one home. And if I can, you'll be an overnight saint.'

He didn't say anything for a bit. 'You could be pushing your luck. And mine. But I wish you well.'

I liked his manners. We were moving very fast now into the end-phase of the mission because Gorbachev's scheduled arrival was tomorrow morning and I'd have to do a lot of work and take a lot of calculated risks and if I went down with a shot in the spine or ran foul of East German Intelligence and had to pop the capsule or got washed up on a rubbish tip for the want of a better grave he was leaving me with a last signal I could take comfort in as the dark came down; I wish you well.

'I'll remember that.'

'When you're not there to answer the phone, will anyone else?'

'Yes. Gunter Blum.'

'Is he a professional?'

'No, but he's totally reliable and he'll do anything to get that pass.'

'For his wife?'

'That's right. Use German; he hasn't any English.'

'More?'

'Just one thing — I had to abandon the BMW. It's red hot and the police will be keeping a long-distance watch on it for a while and then they'll impound it and inform the rental company. I assume they can't trace, it back to you.'

'I used a sleeper with false papers. How soon do you want another car?'

'Not yet, but have one standing by and I'll tell you where to leave it for me.'

'Any specific model?'

'Something fast.'

'Anything else?'

'No. I'll keep in contact, don't worry.'

Over and out.

Gunter put the tray on the kitchen table for me and I told him to sit down while I was eating. 'Listen to me. Today and perhaps tonight I'm going to ask you to drive me wherever I want to go. I shan't ask you to follow anyone or break the speed limit or the law in any way, but I might want to take over the cab and leave you behind in the street.'

He sat scratching the blister on his huge hand, watching me with his head lowered and his eyes lifted. 'I don't know that I — '

'If you'll let me do that, you can tell the police later, if necessary, that I took your cab at gunpoint and threw you out. That will leave you in the clear. Is that frying-pan still hot?'

He took a second to switch his thoughts.

'Yes.'

'Drop this one back for a minute, will you?'

I can't stand them runny.

He lumbered away and I did some thinking and when he came back with the egg I told him, 'I've made arrangements for you to pick up the cost of a replacement cab in case I do in fact take over and write it off. The funds will be in your name at the Ost-Deutschebanke in Dmitroffstrasse and all you need to do is show them your ID card. If I don't damage the cab, then take enough from the funds to cover my bill, and be generous. The balance can stay there and it'll be picked up.'

'I don't like it.' Scratching his blister. 'You can lose your licence easy in this city. They get you for the slightest — '

'I will look after that too, but you'll have to trust me. If you can't, then forget it.' I wanted to use the cab because I was going to try making a switch in the streets and it's a terribly difficult thing to pull off, but quite a bit easier if you can sit in the back of a taxi and check the environment the whole time without having to drive; you can also get out and do some work on foot and have it follow you around as a mobile base.

'Whether you decide to trust me or not,' I told him, 'there'll be an envelope at the bank for you with an official Emigration Office pass for your wife in it, sealed by the KGB.'

In a moment, 'By the KGB?'

'I'm not a member of their organisation, but I've got useful connections.' With emphasis, 'The pass will not be a forgery.'

He took time again before he answered. 'I'll do whatever you say.'

Cone made contact soon after four in the afternoon when the early-winter gloom was settling over the city. I'd spent the day working on the mechanics of the switch I'd have to do and testing them out. It would need darkness, and Cone caught me within an hour of leaving the safe-house.

'I've just had a call,' he said. 'It was for you, but when I said you were unavailable he agreed to give me the message.'

'Did he use a parole?'

'No. He said his name was Geissler, and that he's got something for you from Lena.'

'He just said Lena? Not Lena Pabst?'

'That's right.'

'Anything else?'

'He left a number for you to call.'

I wrote it down.

'This was minutes ago?'

'I phoned you right away. Does the name mean anything?'

'Geissler? No.'

'When she phoned yesterday,' Cone said, 'she said she'd got some documents for you, remember?'

'Yes.'

A shrug in his tone. 'It could be that.'

'Or it could be someone in Trumpeter.'

After a bit he said, 'Yes, in which case you'll have to step gingerly.'

'I'll work on it and report back.'

I rang off and gave it some thought. Lena Pabst could have had someone with her when she'd started infiltrating Trumpeter, and he could be Geissler. Or someone in Trumpeter itself could have gone through her papers after she'd been shot dead, and found my number at the hotel and decided it was worth trying. They would have been desperate to know how much she'd found out and what she'd passed on.

Pick up the phone.

'Speaking.'

He had a quiet voice, though not passive; quiet in the same way as Shepley's.

'I'm told you've got something for me.'

I was listening very hard, particularly for the sound of aircraft in the background, or an office PA system. I was probably speaking to Werneuchen Airforce Base.

'Yes,' he said.

I hadn't turned the light on in the room, and the distant glow from the Wall was coming through the window.

'How do I obtain it?'

The brief, circumspect language of caution. I might even be speaking to the chief of the Trumpeter operation.