'Good.' He didn't give it a cheerful tone, nothing hearty, I'd have.killed him for that and he knew it. He wasn't expecting any kind of breakthrough at this stage of the mission: there was too much stacked up against us, with the executive on the run and a wreck on the river for a safe-house.
But at least there was this: 'The two remaining generals, I said 'are still in Novosibirsk. They're guests of the CO of the Russian Army unit, unofficially and under special protection.' I filled him in with the details.
'This is quite good,' Ferris said when I'd finished.
In point of fact yes, we'd caught up with the objective for Meridian, which was the information buried in the heads of those two men. The problem was that they were behind the wire fence and the sentries of a fully-manned and equipped army battalion, no real case for dancing in the streets when London received Ferris's signal.
'Rusakov,' I said, 'is now an ally.'
'I would think so.'
'I'm going to get him to keep the generals under observation while they're in camp. He's got men he can trust. So I'll need you to move your best support man into the immediate field, as close as you can to the safe-house.'
I could see Rusakov through the grime of the glass panels, sitting at the wheel of his jeep. He could be useful to us, useful in the extreme, but he was a stranger, not of the Bureau, untrained and unpredictable. I was quite sure he'd do very nearly anything I asked him to do, because of Tanya, but simple gratitude doesn't have the high-tensile strength that underlies our neurotic devotion to the Sacred Bull, and the more reliance I put on Captain Vadim Rusakov the more dangerous it would be.
'How far can we trust your captain?' I heard Ferris asking. It wasn't telepathy; we both knew the risk of using strangers.
'I don't know him well enough to answer that. All I can do is be careful. How close can you get your support man to the safe-house?'
'Five kilometres,' Ferris said. He had the map in front of him.
'With a secure telephone?'
'Yes.' He gave me the number.
'All right, and I'll need a mobile radio link.'
'Noted.'
'And a map showing the location of the army camp. When he approaches, he should whistle the Fifth.' then I asked Ferris — hadn't meant to — 'How are things your end?'
'You worry too much.'
Right, you do not ask your director in the field how things are with him; he must be seen at all times to be as secure in his sanctum as is the Oracle in Delphi.
I wouldn't have asked him, perhaps, if Tanya weren't also there. He would know that. Ferris knows everything.
We shut down the signal and I forced the door of the booth back and went across to the jeep and got in.' Vadim, would you be able to keep the generals under covert observation while they're in camp? Use some of your men?'
'That would be quite easy. Their quarters are in a separate building from the barracks.'
'Then I want you to do that. Look, we need to write things down. Is there — '
'Here.' He reached across the seat and got a clipboard from the rear of the car and pulled the pencil out of its slot.
I gave him the phone number I'd got from Ferris and told him to write it down. 'Vadim, that number is classified. Understand that.'
He looked at me in the glow of light from the dashboard. 'I understand. You may trust me. Do you know that?' He waited.
'Of course. It's just that if you found yourself forced at some time to answer questions, it might be difficult — '
'You may trust me in any circumstances.' His eyes held mine.
'Fair enough. So look, if you find anything to report to me on the generals, phone that number and give your name. He'll be our liaison. Your name is also classified, so don't worry. I want to know whenever those people make a move. When they leave camp I want to know where they go. Can you have them tracked?'
Rusakov thought about that, stroking a circle on the lined yellow clipboard sheet with his finger. Muster all ranks, 'B' Platoon, 18:00 hrs, for kit inspection had been written across the top, then crossed out. 'It might be difficult,' he said at last, 'to send out a vehicle at short notice. I'd have to submit an order for it beforehand, and give the destination and purpose — except in an emergency, of course. But it would be difficult, again, to claim an emergency at a time when the generals were initiating transit.'
'Yes, blow the whole thing. Then see what information you can get hold of before they leave camp. See if you can get their destination from the transport section.'
'That would be easier, yes.'
Two men came out of the Harbour Light, slamming the door behind them, one of them bent over, laughing, the other one taking a leak against the wall, steam clouding up in the lamplight. 'All right,' I said to Rusakov, 'I'll leave it to you. Anything you can do to get me information will be a blow against the Podpolia. But you'll have to keep in mind the fact that sooner or later the militia's going to ask the army for your arrest.' I looked at him in the glow of the dashboard. 'Have you any kind of bolt-hole you can go to in the town?'
He thought about that too. 'Yes.'
'Where?'
He looked down. 'The house of a friend.'
'She'd be ready to shelter you? Keep you hidden?' He was silent. 'I've got to know,' I told him, 'because I want to keep in contact.'
He looked up again. 'She would help me, yes.' He wrote on the pad and tore a strip of it off and gave it to me. 'Her name is Raisa.'
The two men were lurching across the snow to a pick-up truck with a mast lying across the rear, a furled sail round it; the domed glass of the lamp at its head caught the light from the bar, a ruby eye in the fog creeping from the river.
I put the strip of paper away. 'Is there a fellow officer,' I asked Rusakov, 'or one of the men under you, who has your absolute trust?'
'Yes.' this time he hadn't had to think about it. 'A master-sergeant.'
'All right. If you can't avoid arrest, can he take your place? Make contact with me?'
In a moment,' I will ask him.'
'You're not sure he'll — '
'I will ask him as a formality. But he will do it.'
'Name?'
'Bakatin.'
'Master-sergeant Bakatin. Then — '
'But I must tell you,' Rusakov said, his eyes suddenly on mine, 'I shall resist arrest. I shall resist very strongly.'
'Of course. You put an apparatchik thug out of the way, no earthly reason to suffer for it.' I took my glove off and offered my hand. 'Keep in touch, then.'
I put the Skoda in the same place as before, under the cover of the fallen roof of the shed, and walked the half mile to the river, taking time to check the environment and going aboard the hulk just after half-past eleven, with the moon floating above the dark skeletonic arm of a grain elevator downriver.
The starboard bow of the Natasha had been stove in when she'd been wrecked, and I spent an hour shifting loose timber, stacking it against the bulkheads to form a tunnel that ran aft from the entrance to the cabin below deck and led to the smashed hatchway at the stern. Rats ran in the beam of the flashlight; they couldn't get at the provisions but they'd scented them and moved in to reconnoitre.
When the tunnel was finished I tested it out, checking for loose boards that might make a noise, leaving the flashlight in the cabin and feeling my way through the dark towards the hatch at the stern. I didn't think I'd need an escape route to deck level because Ferris would have tightened the whole support network after Roach had been blown, but these were confined quarters and if anyone came down here with a gun I wouldn't have any answer except to get out before he could use it.
It's just a touch of the usual paranoia, that's all.
Get out of my bloody life.
I went through the escape tunnel half a dozen times in the dark to get used to it, the feel of the timbers and the lie of the ground, the smell of rope in the chain locker and the crack of light between the Boards just below the deck where a lamp on the shore made a gleam, establishing my bearings, making the journey twice as fast and in more silence the last time through.