Pulling into a motorway services area Nikoli had been admiring the Captains shapely rear as it disappeared with its owner and a holdall towards the ladies when the staff sergeant driver had spoken for the first time.
“Even at 12 years old you bored the girls with your chatter Nikoli Bordenko!”
Nikoli was only able to stare at the driver. He spoke perfect Russian and apparently knew him!
Constantine had twisted around in his seat to look at his distant cousin and removed his red RMP beret.
“You are looking well Nikoli, how are your parents?”
“Constantine?”
“As you can see cousin, poor pay has forced me to take a second job,” he joked.
“What are you doing here, are you spying?”
“Nikoli, I have something important to tell you… ”
Alone in his office Premier Chiu was in telephone conference with his opposite number in Moscow. Although there did exist an up to date video conferencing system, the Chinese leader kept secret his inability to operate it unaided. There was no one else present, as it was a private one to one between the two leaders. Another little secret that few were privy to was Chiu’s command of the Russian language.
“My dear friend, I have to say that we were rather disconcerted at the rapid reaction of the West. Your plan called for complete surprise and that has been very obviously lost?”
The voice from Moscow was confident in its reply.
“The situation has started the first cracks in the West, Comrade Chiu, and America is unaware that its allies are already seeking to distance themselves from the coming hostilities,” he did not elaborate on which country or countries, nor how many. He was confident that once Britain turned tail, other NATO signatories would follow suit. He was however discomfited by the Chinese Premiers next statement.
“Be that as it may, with the existing time table the West will be far advanced in its mobilisation by the time we attack. Unless you can suggest some preventative measures I can no longer guarantee my countries support.”
The Russian would have made as fine a poker player, as he was an accomplished chess player. His voice revealed nothing of the kick he had felt in his stomach. He had allowed for this contingency but had not wished to put that plan into action.
“Comrade Premier, were the plan advanced by four days would that assist to reassure you of its continued viability… As the cat is out of the bag so far as my country is concerned, we were already able to begin mobilisation. I am sure that there is nothing to alert the West toward yourselves. They have not made a connection between the significance of the Mao and the delivery of the terrorist device in London, indeed they do not yet known where the Mao originated. Their satellites are still unreliable and they know nothing of our combined forces preparing to strike in the Pacific.” he assured his opposite number.
“I believe that three or four days would be advantageous in destroying those military targets that would still be occupied with reporting troops and equipment.” conceded the Chinese leader. “There is I agree little to suppose that the alliance of our countries is yet known. As to our forces gathering in the north Pacific, I was informed several hours’ ago that our picket ships have detected a United States Los Angeles class submarine approaching the area. Would you agree that the time has come to ensure our alliance remains secret?”
“I would indeed,” agreed the Russian.
“Good, your submarine Gegarin has been alerted and is now stalking the American,” replied Beijing.
“Then we should sink it before it has anything to transmit back to its fleet.”
The Chinese Premier smiled maliciously.
“I agree”.
Scott cleared Customs and after a moment saw a board being held that bore his name. After bona fides had been checked by both parties Scott shook hands with the staff member who had apparently drawn the short straw in collecting him at this late hour.
“Flight was delayed out of Chicago, if I could have got the BA flight from Washington I’d have been in over three hours’ ago. No one explained why it was necessary fly to Chicago first, is there a problem?” They left terminal 3 and walked into the English rain. “There may be.” A car pulled up and his escort opened the back door for him, jumping into the front seat himself. Scott was not alone in the back seat, and the driver he had met before.
“Let me get us away from this place and I can fill you in Scott,” Art Petrucci informed him as he checked the mirror and pulled out. The man sharing the back seat introduced himself to Scott and enquired
“Is this your first time in England Mr Tafler?” Scott was surprised. “Yes sir it is, would Mr Petrucci also have been collecting you from the airport or are you here to see me?”
The Englishman smiled.
“Alas I am kept rather too busy of late to have been able to take the luxury of a trip to foreign parts.”
Before reaching the M4 motorway that would take them into London proper their front seat passenger spoke into a radio with a telephone-like handset. Replacing the handset he nodded to Art Petrucci.
“We’re clear, no tail.”
Art pulled over and they swapped places. On the move again and now bound for central London Art gave Scott a rundown of what he had obviously not been privy to before.
“I wanted you to meet this gentleman sat here because you will probably not get the chance again. There have been wind changes that will be a great surprise to you, but I have met the architect of these changes and unfortunately I wasn’t. Terry Jones sent you over here to try and contact the Russian who tipped us off, and it will be no mean feat if you can pull it off. The Russian secret service wants him and so does MI5. That won’t come as a surprise to you… but the Brit spooks handing him over to the Russian’s if they get there first will be!”
Scott looked at the head of station as if he had grown two heads.
“Unfortunately very possible,” the Englishman said.
“Our Prime Minister appears to lack the courage it takes to be the ‘world statesman’ he aspires to be, or as my officers would put it ‘He has lost his bottle, large!’ but I have some information here that may assist you,” he handed over a docket.
“The Brit intelligence services don’t know who you are or that you are in the country, but they know everyone at London station. They may or may not put tails on us so we cannot help you after tonight… . but our friend here can.” Art informed him.
“I took the precaution of withholding certain facts when I briefed the PM following the discovery of the suitcase device” explained Sir Richard Tennant.
“We found only one fingerprint upon the outside of the suitcase that could not be accounted for. A very extensive search of databases has finally tracked it down to one supplied in opening a bank account in Paris, France. The address given is false, as probably is the name; however, there was also a photograph with the application. As you know an unknown female accompanies Major Bedonavich, at least that is what we suppose. Assuming they are no longer in the capital I have had missing person’s reports checked. A bank in London has reported an employee missing. She has no next of kin that are known and a welfare visit by one of their personnel staff found her flat door had apparently been forced sometime recently.”
Their car slowed on a slip road, faster moving cars and goods vehicles whipped past and raised a mist of spray before they joined the London bound traffic on the M4 motorway.