Come in.
I'm stuck on the ice at St Petersburg ulica and Boronov Prospekt.
Base told him they were sending help and the call was shut down. It hadn't been anything to do with this driver here; the radio was on open network. I'd checked the call as a routine, and it was all I could do. If Colonel Belyak or Chief Investigator Gromov had set up a multi-vehicle tracking operation on the little park to keep Tanya Rusakova monitored, there'd be no signals on the air: they would have ordered radio silence.
Nine minutes and another big icicle came away from the eaves of the building, lancing through the lamplight and splintering against the bottom step. It had touched the nerves a little because if the sound of a shot came from across the park it would be a signal that the support man couldn't get Tanya as far as the first car, couldn't get her clear, and if that happened there'd be no further options. If these people weren't prepared to let the woman prisoner go free in exchange for what I could do for them I couldn't force the issue.
I heard the horned owl call again from the trees, the ushastaya sova, its notes soft and echoeless; the snow-plough had stopped working over there in the distance, and the winter silence grew vast across the city.
There had been no shot.
Colonel Belyak turned to face me.
'Ten minutes — are you satisfied?'
'Stop,' I told the militiaman at the wheel.
The safe-house was two blocks from here, eastwards towards the river.
Belyak spoke to the driver from beside me on the rear seat.
'Give the signal for deployment.'
The man opened up his radio.
I'd counted seven unmarked patrol cars on the way here from Militia Headquarters, some of them tailing us and the others keeping abreast along streets running parallel to our route. I hadn't given directions when we'd started out: this too had been finally agreed. Belyak had raised objections at first but I'd waited for him to sweat it out because the situation was quite clear: if I'd given him the location of the safe-house he could have left Tanya in her cell and put me back into mine and sent in a platoon and evacuated the building and taken it by storm.
'It's the concrete block of apartments straight ahead of us,' I told him, 'two blocks down.'
'We will wait,' he said.
We'd agreed that I would take him to within two blocks of the safe-house and give him time to deploy his forces in a ring at that distance from the building before I went in.
'Microphone,' he told the driver, and the man passed it back.' Commander to all units. Keep your engines as quiet as you can. No lights.'
He smelled of cigars, the colonel, cigars and boot-polish; he was an easier man to handle than Chief Investigator Gromov; Belyak was paramilitary, trained within the narrow perspectives of the soldier. He'd be less likely to spring a surprise than Gromov, a subtler and an older man, more of a chess-player than a tin drum major. Gromov was in his own car but his radio would be linked with the Colonel's network and he'd be listening to the moves.
Static came on the air.
21 to station 6 and halted.
Colonel Belyak sat with his bulk in the corner between the seat and the door, the microphone in his hand. He wasn't worried about my attempting an escape: this area was already a super-trap and if I'd wanted to escape I wouldn't have set it up for my self, and so far I'd got him to believe in that.
34 to station 7 and halted.
Engines sounded everywhere in the quiet of the streets, a background murmur. Normal traffic had been stopped, and there were no lights moving anywhere, only the blacked-out shapes of the patrol cars. Dogs loped past us, singly and in packs, hollow-flanked and with their heads down, scenting; this wasn't far from the big No. 3 Meat Market, closed because there was no meat but still attractive because of its smell.
19 to station 12 and halted.
The time on the dashboard clock was 7:13.
The colonel flipped the mike open. 'What units are still moving?'
There was only static and some faint Morse we were picking up from another band.
'If any unit is not yet deployed, report immediately.'
Static.
Belyak looked at me. 'You are ready?'
'Yes.'
He got out of the car with me, bringing a walkie-talkie with the antenna extended, and I took him to within a block of the safe-house.
'It looks,' I told him, 'as if he's still there. It's the fifth room along on the third floor.' the chink of yellowish light showed clearly enough through the gap in the curtains. I looked at my watch. 'Do you have 7:21?'
'I do.'
'You're giving me fifteen minutes. That was agreed?'
'It was.'
'Then you can send your men in at 7:36 if I haven't brought him out. If I can get him under control before then, you'll see the light in that window go out and you can expect both of us to leave the building by the main entrance. You won't need to order any rush: I'll have a gun at his back.'
I couldn't see the Colonel's eyes in the shadow of his cap, knew only that they were watching me.
'Very well. And whether you bring this man out or not, you understand that you will remain my prisoner. That also was agreed.'
'Yes, I understand.'
I turned away and began walking, and heard the sound of boots over the snow as my two escorts began tailing me at a distance. There would be others, as I moved closer to the building, and once I was through the entrance door they would close in from all sides with their assault rifles covering every exit and every window.
The edges of the snow-ruts broke under my boots as I kept on walking. From somewhere over to my left I heard a radio come to life, and faint voices; then it was quiet again.
He had done well, Belyak. I could only see two of the patrol cars from where I was now and their crews were inside them, keeping a low profile, but there'd be upwards of thirty vehicles forming the peripheral ring at two blocks' distance, because it would take at least that number to seal off the area effectively. When we'd left Militia Headquarters I'd counted five personnel carriers, and there could be others here, so that the actual number of armed bodies within and around the ring was probably in the region of two hundred. If I tried to break and run at any time, at any time at all, I would have as much chance as a rat in a dog-pack.
It was 7:23 when I reached the building and kicked the worst of the snow off my boots and went through the entrance door and heard it swing shut behind me.
Chapter 17: LIGHTS
Ferris caught it before the second ring.
"Things went off all right,' I told him.
In a moment he said: 'I'll tell London.'
He just meant he was pleased, that was all, because he hadn't believed I'd got a ghost of a chance of going into Militia Headquarters and coming out again of my own free will. There was nothing in point of fact to tell London. The purpose of the exercise had been to stop Captain Vadim Rusakov from going down there and offering himself as the sacrificial lamb in order to get his sister out. I needed him.
I hadn't advanced the mission; I'd simply averted the terminal damage that Tanya had come appallingly close to causing when she'd walked out of that safe-house in spite of my warning. But that was something, at least; we hadn't crashed Meridian, though it wasn't the kind of signal the director in the field could flash to Control in London.
Novosibirsk's just come in, sir. We've still got a mission running.
Croder would freeze him with his obsidian eyes.
How nice.
We're expected to do rather better than that, we the brave and underpaid ferrets in the field. But I had felt something move softly within when I'd seen her look back, just that once, before she'd vanished into the trees of the little park; you could call it joy of some kind, I suppose, or as close as I can ever get to such a thing inside the cold and scaly carapace of my defences.