‘So do I,’ fought back Charlie. ‘I’m not yet convinced that this is a big deal; is anything at all. So I need convincing, about a lot of things.’
‘I’ve had four meetings,’ said Fredericks. ‘It looks right to me. Every way.’
Both men pulled back for the drinks to be served. When the waiter left, Charlie said: ‘You made any arrangements for me?’
Fredericks stopped with his glass halfway to his lips, frowning. ‘Arrangements for what?’
‘To meet Kozlov. And the woman.’
Fredericks put down the glass, without drinking. ‘It obviously hasn’t been properly explained to you,’ he said, patiently. ‘Kozlov is ours. You’re babysitting the woman.’
Thank Christ the chance had come, thought Charlie. He said: ‘I thought I was getting a lecture on professionalism from a professional.’
‘What are you talking about?’ demanded the American.
‘Are you seriously suggesting that I go into this without seeing the man himself … assessing things for myself. Without seeing the woman, too … come on, Sunshine!’ Although the bar was dark, Charlie was aware of the pinpricks of colour on the man’s face, showing the anger. Charlie was glad he’d finally managed to unsettle the American.
‘This is our show,’ insisted Fredericks. ‘He came to us. He stays with us. You get the woman. I’ll tell you where and when.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Charlie.
‘What’s bollocks?’
‘You. The operation. Everything,’ said Charlie. He sighed, drinking deeply from his glass. ‘Pity,’ he said. ‘I really enjoy Japan. Would have liked it to have lasted longer.’
‘You want to say something, why don’t you say it straight out?’ said Fredericks.
‘Sure,’ said Charlie. ‘The British just withdrew.’
Charlie spoke intent upon the other man, alert for the signs, and he saw them. If there had been any other way of getting the Kozlovs out, Washington would not have approached London. So the fact that Fredericks was meeting him – within hours of arrival, and trying to impose himself as the controller from the world go – meant not only that the British participation was essential but that the Americans were desperate for it.
‘You haven’t got the authority to withdraw,’ challenged Fredericks.
‘I have,’ said Charlie. ‘And that’s what I’ve just done …’ Dismissively, the action of someone bringing an encounter to a close with a gesture of politeness, Charlie said: ‘Would you like another drink? Maybe something stronger? I’m going to have the last one.’ As he turned to catch the waiter, Charlie saw that the smiling girl on the adjoining table was deep in conversation with a blonde-haired man who used his hands a lot when he spoke. Lucky bugger, Charlie thought: she looked like she might have been a goer.
‘What do you want?’ demanded Fredericks.
‘I thought I told you,’ said Charlie. ‘I want to see Kozlov and satisfy myself. And then – myself, again not through you – I want to arrange a meeting with the woman and be satisfied about her, as well. And I want you and I to get together and go through everything you’ve done, from the very first moment of contact. And when I’m satisfied about that, we’ll start making plans …’
The waiter’s return prevented Fredericks’ immediate reaction, which was probably fortunate. This time he ordered whisky – imported, not local – and when they were alone he said: ‘I know all about you: what you did. I don’t buy that crap, your getting even, for being set up. You cost us a director and your people a director. In my book, that makes you a traitor. I don’t know how – can’t believe how – you managed to convince your own people you’re loyal. You haven’t impressed us. We think you should have stayed in jail and rotted there …’ The drinks came and the American had to stop. ‘I did everything I could to stop your coming,’ resumed Fredericks. ‘I don’t want you to be a part of anything …’
It was impressive bluster, but Charlie guessed he’d won. He said: ‘You got a point?’
Fredericks’ face stiffened, realizing his early advantage had gone. Striving to regain it, he leaned across the table towards Charlie and said: ‘You listen and you listen good. We’ve got a hell of a file on you so I know all about the act, too: the fuck-everybody-I’m-the-best routine. And I don’t buy that, either. You’re a jumped-up jerk and if you try anything clever – anything at all – it’s going to be your ass. That’s a personal promise. You understand?’
He’s a big bastard, thought Charlie, letting the silence grow between them: probably thinks he could do it. Charlie said: TU be careful crossing roads.’
Fredericks’ face grew taut once more, at the open mockery. ‘Yes,’ he said, with soft-voiced sincerity: ‘You be very careful.’
‘Haven’t we sidetracked a little?’ It was good to be in control, Charlie thought. It had definitely been careless, earlier, though. He promised himself he wouldn’t make another mistake like that: he couldn’t afford to.
‘What?’ demanded Fredericks.
‘You’ve got a contact procedure?’
‘Of course.’
‘Use it, to set a meeting up for me. Alone.’
Fredericks shifted, uncomfortable at Kozlov’s reaction the last time. He said: ‘He expects the crossing details at the next meeting.’
‘Before anyone’s met the woman!’ jeered Charlie. ‘You just answered a question. The guy’s not professional and the whole thing is a load of balls. No one in their right mids would move, at this stage. He should know that. So should you.’
Fredericks was sweating, angry at being so easily exposed. He said: ‘He’s frightened. Wants things to happen as quickly as possible.’
‘I’m frightened,’ said Charlie. ‘Too frightened to move things more quickly than they should be moved.’
‘He’s very cautious, too,’ said the American. ‘I’m his contact. He won’t make a rendezvous with anyone else.’
‘Meet him first then,’ agreed Charlie. ‘Tell him the reason. I won’t come in, to scare him away, until I get the signal from you.’
Fredericks controlled any expression of satisfaction. It would mean that he would be present throughout the entire encounter: that the son-of-a-bitch couldn’t try anything smart. ‘You won’t go ahead, without a meeting?’ said Fredericks, as if the agreement were being forced reluctantly from him.
‘Definitely not,’ said Charlie, positively.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Fredericks. ‘It’ll take a day or two.’
‘So there’ll be time for you fully to brief me, on everything that’s happened so far?’ said Charlie.
Fredericks just succeeded in biting back the go-to-hell refusal that came automatically to mind. ‘Sure,’ he said, instead.
Later, back at the tower block window and looking out over the now lit-up Tokyo, Charlie decided it hadn’t been bad, after all. Not as good as it should have been, of course, but still not bad. He’d made a good enough recovery and recognized sufficiently early that Fredericks was over-confident and been able to use it, against the man. There was always the danger that Fredericks would review everything that had been said and promised and realize the mistakes he’d made, but Charlie didn’t think so. The American attitude at how he’d screwed their director was inevitable, Charlie supposed. It had been another mistake of Fredericks, making it as obvious as he had. It meant, reflected Charlie, that he’d had good early warning. Which was always a bonus.
‘You were lucky, Charlie: bloody lucky,’ he said, to his own flop-haired, loose-tied reflection. He hoped he stayed that way.
‘I don’t believe it!’ exploded Levine, when Fredericks finished the account to the assembled CIA team. ‘What the hell does he think he’s doing, running the operation!’