Double Agent

by Tom Bradby

  ‘I haven’t done anything, Kate.’

  ‘All right, let me rephrase the question. When were you thinking of telling me that your friends at the Security Service have put a tail on me?’

  ‘I think I made clear they are not really my friends.’

  ‘Could you at least deny it?’

  ‘I told you they’d opened an investigation. The plain fact is you almost certainly have a mole. It’s their job to find him or her.’

  ‘I thought C had expressly forbidden this?’

  ‘The DG made a courtesy call. C tried to claim that, if there was a problem, it was an internal matter and any investigation would breach operational security, but the integrity of all government agencies is MI5’s business, as you well know. I did inform them of my questions about Viper, but it’s out of my hands now. It’s out of all of our hands, to be honest.’

  ‘Did they put their most incompetent team on me, just so I would know they were watching?’

  ‘I doubt it. They don’t really think like that.’

  ‘What do they hope to achieve by trailing me to lunch?’

  Suzy sighed. ‘This isn’t really going anywhere. I’ll see you when you get back.’ She ended the call and Kate nursed the rest of her coffee in cold fury. Her mood hadn’t lifted by the time she arrived at lunch with Sir Alan.

  He was in the corner booth, which she knew to be his regular, opposite a sign for ‘Rue Mozart’. It was a cosy place, with wood-panelling on the walls and an eclectic mix of street signs and photographs from around Europe.

  Kate was so used to the air of authority that her boss always carried with him, consciously but also effortlessly, that the sight of him shorn of it seemed more shocking than it should have been. He looked tired, his shoulders hunched uncomfortably and eyes hooded. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, gesturing at their surroundings. ‘I’ve just managed to get Alice home, so this is about as far as I want to stray from her at the moment.’

  ‘We can go and have a coffee at your house, if that would be easier.’

  ‘No, it’s actually a relief to be out of it for half an hour.’ He glanced at his watch, as if to double-check that that was all it was likely to be. ‘There is only so much of the impending tragedy any man can cope with.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s funny, I suppose others might say we’re more acquainted than most with the tenuous and temporary nature of human existence, but even that doesn’t stop you being holed below the waterline.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Everyone is. And it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference.’ Sir Alan gestured at the waiter, who had just arrived at a table opposite. ‘Part of the trouble is that she doesn’t want to go. Neither of us has ever felt much need to consider the possibility of a life hereafter, but now she’s so close to the threshold that seems a bit of an oversight.’

  The waiter came. Sir Alan ordered salmon, Kate cod. He asked for a glass of red wine. ‘I can’t remember the last time I drank at lunch,’ he said.

  ‘I’d order a bottle if I were you.’ Kate looked at him seriously. It had never occurred to her before in how much affection she held him. If he were to step down, she would certainly miss his phlegmatic wisdom and easy temperament, but also the kindness he had displayed after Stuart’s departure for Moscow. She wished there was more she could say or do. ‘If it’s not an impertinent question, how much longer?’

  ‘Less than two weeks. Our youngest son, John, is coming back from South Africa, so she’s determined to hold on until he makes it.’

  ‘How heartbreaking.’

  ‘In all those years together, you never really contemplate what it will be like to say your final farewell. And I can’t quite decide whether this slow, steady route – in which, at least, everyone gets to say goodbye in the way they see fit – is better than an abrupt exit.’

  Kate found herself wishing that Stuart was dead rather than divorcing her. But she kept that thought to herself.

  ‘Were you followed here?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I called Suzy and she didn’t deny it.’

  ‘She’s got some ambition, that girl, not to say a fair degree of brass bloody neck.’ The waiter brought his red wine and he took a healthy swig. ‘Well, you may be encouraged to hear that they’ve been following me also.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Don’t look so surprised. If you are a suspect, then I must be, too. They appear to have assigned me their least experienced team. I spotted them as soon as we left the hospital and I assured them that my wife was dying and I would be unlikely to stray far from home until she had departed to the other side.’ He took another sip of his wine.

  ‘I could murder a smoke,’ Kate said. ‘I’m not sure what’s happening to me.’

  ‘You look how I feel, so I’m not surprised.’ He glanced at his watch once more. ‘I spoke to Andrew Blaine in Moscow this morning and I had a long conversation with Ian. None of our sources have picked up the rumours of Vasily Durov’s demise inside Moscow Centre, though those we have managed to contact acknowledge they’ve not personally seen him for some time.’

  ‘That’s hardly news, given how reclusive he is.’

  ‘Exactly. I’ve spoken to the foreign secretary again. She’s digging her heels in, adamant she’s not going to write that letter unless we can give her greater reassurance that what Mikhail says about the changing of the guard in Moscow is true.’

  ‘That’ll take time we don’t have.’

  ‘Have you heard from your friend Sergei?’

  Sir Alan’s blue eyes were on her now. She thought about lying to him, but rapidly changed her mind: this was neither the time nor the place. ‘Yes and no,’ she said.

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘He did contact me. Just something very innocent.’ She got out her phone and found the texts. ‘“How are you?” I replied I was good and was he in London? He answered, “No, at home in St Petersburg. Be good to see you sometime.” I sent a message back and never got an answer.’

  Sir Alan was looking out of the window. ‘I’m guessing you received the message in Berlin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have you had any contact with him since then?’

  ‘I tried a couple more times and gave up when I didn’t get an answer. I have enough on my plate without wondering about someone I used to like.’ Kate realized that was more information than she’d needed to share.

  ‘Would you still say his motives for that first tip-off about the meeting on the Empress in Istanbul were personal?’

  Kate stared at her hands. How often had she asked herself this question? So much seemed to hang on it – and more with each passing day. ‘I think so, but it’s impossible to be sure without spending a little time with him. I’m going on a friendship of half a lifetime ago and the man I knew then. But people change. So . . . I don’t know.’

  ‘Has he been in touch with you since Stuart’s defection?’

  ‘Not until that exchange in Berlin.’ The waiter came with their food. Sir Alan tucked into his as if he hadn’t eaten for a week. ‘I could try to make contact again,’ Kate said.

  ‘I thought you said he wasn’t replying?’

  ‘I know where his parents live in St Petersburg.’

  ‘We could ask Andrew to send someone up. But it seems a long shot.’

  ‘I meant I’d go myself.’

  He looked up at her sharply, his lunch forgotten. ‘I’ll pretend you didn’t suggest that, Kate.’

  ‘Just hear me out.’

  ‘No. It would be a ridiculous risk, which I couldn’t countenance and nor should you.’

  ‘It has to be me,’ she said. ‘They grew up in the old Soviet Union. They wouldn’t dream of talking to someone about their son unless they knew him or her.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with Andrew, see what he thinks.’

  It was said with finality, but Kate couldn’t let go of the idea. It was against every conceivable current procedure and protocol for a senior serving officer to travel underc
over into Russia alone. But C was right: everything that had happened had begun with Sergei and they would make no real headway until she could see him and get a sense of what his motive truly was. Meg Simpson had said she needed certainty, and Kate could see only one way to get it.

  She pushed the food around her plate. Sir Alan stared out of the window. ‘There was one other thing,’ she said.

  He faced her again. ‘Go on.’ Kate finished the last of her cod, though she wasn’t in the least hungry. ‘The suspense is killing me,’ he said.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say, but I do feel really strongly about it.’

  ‘The wrong sort of preamble for a successful negotiation, but never mind.’

  ‘When I recruited Lena Sabic to go and plant that bug on Igor’s yacht, I looked her in the eye and swore that, if she kept her side of the bargain, I would make sure we rescued her sister, Maja, from Belgrade, and brought her to this country.’

  Sir Alan didn’t blink. ‘And we assuredly would have done so if Lena had survived.’

  ‘But that’s just it. Lena paid for this deal with her life, which, from my – from our – point of view, writes it in blood.’

  ‘Interesting use of terminology, which I don’t know that I accept.’

  ‘I made a promise. I can’t break it.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Well, for a start, I’d have to resign with immediate effect if we refuse to implement it.’

  ‘The implication being that you would be unable to oversee this current defection, which would make it unlikely to happen?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘I should hope not,’ he said, ‘because that would be blackmail, which I do not respond to well, as I hope you know.’

  ‘I’m not blackmailing you or anyone else. I’m just trying to tell you I feel very strongly about it, to the extent that I’m prepared to sacrifice my career, if need be.’

  Kate had expected this to be difficult, but the depth of his annoyance took her aback. ‘I admire the true nature of your moral compass, Kate, but we have to separate dream from reality here. Of course we would all like to make good on that promise to Lena, myself more than most. But “saving” Maja, as you might see it, cannot be more than a fantasy. Leave aside the epic expense of a protracted legal process and her resettlement here, who is she going to end up with now Lena is dead?’

  ‘Me.’ The shock on Sir Alan’s face was genuine. ‘I’ll adopt her.’

  ‘Have you lost your mind?’

  Kate had not given this outcome any thought before it emerged from her mouth, but she moved from instinct to certainty in a heartbeat. ‘I feel more in possession of it than I have for quite some time.’

  ‘What would Gus and Fiona think?’

  ‘I have a hunch they’d wholeheartedly support it.’

  ‘They lose a father and gain a deeply damaged refugee sister? Are you sure?’

  ‘If that is the only way it can happen, then so be it.’

  He leant back and, finally, smiled. ‘I’d braced myself for a fight on this subject, but even I didn’t expect you to go this far.’

  ‘You talked about it with Rose last night?’

  There was a hint of something in his eyes for the most fleeting of moments – surprise, perhaps, or was it guilt? – before he recovered his composure. ‘I asked her to prepare the report so, yes, we have been conferring, if that is what you mean.’ He shook his head. ‘Look, I’ll promise to give it some thought. That’s all I can do.’

  ‘You can promise you’ll do everything in your power to make it happen. And that is the price of me remaining in the Service.’

  His gaze was steady, remorseless even. ‘You’re a tough woman, Kate. That’s why I admire you. But this is a test of leadership. I understand the promise you made to Lena, but circumstances move on. This is a financial and legal minefield and it would be foolhardy for all of us to embark on it.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it is the price I’ve set.’

  ‘I’ve always seen you as a potential successor, one day. I think we should view this as a test of whether you have the necessary emotional and analytical clarity for such responsibilities.’

  ‘If it is, I fail it. Willingly.’

  He smiled, as if impressed, despite himself. ‘Fair enough.’ He picked up his coat. ‘I’d better get back. I have a tab here, so no need to wait for the bill. Thank you for taking the time to see me.’

  Kate stepped out with him and watched him all the way to the turn into Churton Place. He didn’t look back.

  She walked on towards Vauxhall Bridge, trailed by her MI5 watchers, her resolve stiffening both in relation to adopting Maja – what else could she honestly do? – and the idea of going to find Sergei in St Petersburg. Although it occurred to her the latter might be an attempt to escape the consequences of the former. She told herself going to St Petersburg had nothing to do with the loneliness that was becoming an aching chasm within her.

  Back in the office, she closed her door. Sir Alan would fire her. Of course he would. Julie would advise against it. Ian would dance cheerfully on her grave. Suzy would probably take it as clear evidence she really had been working for Moscow all along.

  She’d crossed the border from Finland before. What was the chance that the guards there would be on the lookout for a lone intelligence officer from London travelling under an alias she had never before used? She looked at the picture of Rav on the edge of her desk. He would have told her she was mad. And that, more than anything, decided it.

  She had to go. Were it not for the prime minister’s rank treachery, her former deputy and friend would be sitting here, she was sure. If she had to walk through hell to prove it, so be it. There was a knock and Kate swung around. It was Julie. ‘I can tell you have a plan,’ she said. ‘It’s the way you hold your shoulders.’

  ‘Close the door.’

  Julie did as instructed. ‘Go on then. Hit me with it.’

  ‘I’m going to St Petersburg.’

  ‘What? Do you have a death wish?’

  ‘Meg Simpson is not going to write that letter. Not unless we can find some corroboration of what Mikhail told us. We have to know that Vasily is definitely out. I have someone who will know and might tell me.’

  ‘The same guy who tipped you off about the original meeting on the super-yacht, you mean? The one you have never quite admitted to?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The one Ian claims was once your lover?’

  ‘He was never my lover.’

  ‘That’s not the story doing the rounds.’

  ‘I’m not interested in what story is doing the rounds.’

  ‘Is C aware of this? Or Ian?’

  ‘Neither of them. I floated the idea to Sir Alan and he expressly forbade it.’

  ‘You’ll get fired, whether you succeed or not.’

  ‘Probably. But I’m doing this for Rav and I can live with the consequences. If I don’t, there’s the very real chance that our prime minister will get away with murder.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No. I go alone. It’s the only chance I have of getting what I need.’

  ‘Well, I’ll travel with you at least as far as Finland, like last time.’

  ‘They’ll fire you, too.’

  ‘No, they won’t. I’ll threaten to sue Ian for sexual harassment. And, anyway, I couldn’t care less.’

  ‘I’m going to book myself on the morning BA flight to Helsinki. Do not tell another soul, Julie.’

  ‘You are stark, staring mad, but perhaps that’s why I like you.’

  Suzy had arrived back in the office during the tail end of that conversation and was looking at them quizzically. Kate debated what they should tell her and decided that nothing was the only sensible answer.

  Eventually, Suzy could restrain herself no longer. She knocked and came in. ‘Anything I can help with?’ she asked.

  ‘I had lunch with C,’ Kate said. ‘We were just talking about i
t. He says Meg Simpson is not inclined to write that letter. So this will have to go back into the long grass.’

  Suzy looked personally affronted. ‘Surely she has to write it.’

  ‘Politicians don’t have to do anything.’

  ‘What are her reasons?’

  ‘The risk that we’re being played. She wants more evidence that what Mikhail says about the changing of the guard in Moscow Centre is true. Without it, she won’t take the risk.’

  ‘So how do we get that?’

  ‘C is talking directly to Andrew in Moscow. We’ll have to see what he can find out, but time is not on our side.’

  Perhaps it was the effects of lunch, but Kate felt overwhelmed by fatigue. She sat down at her desk and faced her computer, which was intended as a clear signal to Julie and Suzy that this audience was over. They took the hint.

  Kate struggled to think clearly about what she needed to do. Her mind seemed shrouded in fog. She closed her eyes, but that didn’t improve matters. All she could think of was her overwhelming desire to lie down in the corner of her office.

  She stood again and went along to the Ladies at the end of her floor. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked about sixty.

  The only private space in the entire building was the shower in the corner. She went in, locked the door and sat on the bench where she used to change on the days when she ran into the office. Her heart was thumping again, getting faster as fear and anxiety threatened to overwhelm her. She lay down in the basin of the shower cubicle, with her feet up against the bench, trying to slow her breathing. She felt as if she were having a heart attack.

  Eventually, the panic subsided, but the feeling of total depletion did not. She curled up in the bottom of the shower tray, like a dog in a basket, and closed her eyes. She could feel the damp beneath her, but didn’t care. All she wanted was some kind of release. It didn’t come, but as she began to plan how she would make it to Russia she could at least begin to focus on something else.

  Eventually, Kate stood up. She left the cubicle and ran a basin of cold water. She splashed some on her face and looked at herself in the mirror again. She texted Dr Wiseman’s secretary and asked if there was any possibility of speaking to him – urgently.