Double Agent

by Tom Bradby

  She wondered if that was what she was doing to her own son. It was hard to imagine, since he rarely let her close enough to love, let alone smother him.

  The Soviet cake came. It was a grey sponge made from condensed milk, so sweet Kate almost gagged. ‘How can you possibly eat that?’

  ‘It’s delicious.’ Julie wolfed it down.

  After that Kate lay back in her chair, her face turned up to the sun. She was told to take her feet off the table by a waiter, who ignored the rowdy Georgian kids nearby, playing their music loudly on a portable speaker. ‘Dick,’ Julie said, as he departed.

  Julie stared at the kids next to them with growing irritation. They looked like they were stoned or high, dancing around the table self-consciously. Kate made a mental guess as to how long her friend would last and had it right at about three minutes.

  Julie marched over to them. ‘You want to turn that off?’

  They were startled to have been challenged so abruptly and they instantly complied, as meek as lambs. Julie was a formidable presence.

  Kate sunbathed for about an hour. Julie grew bored and wandered off down to the town. Kate borrowed a swimming costume from the hotel and did some lengths in the basement pool. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, as if the hotel’s designer had been determined that at no point should you be deprived of the magic of that view.

  They met for drinks before dinner and Kate insisted they stick to Diet Coke. After dinner, they went back outside and wrapped themselves in rugs left out for the purpose. They gazed up at the stellar night sky, the snowy peak of Mount Kazbegi majestic, even luminous, in the crystal-clear air.

  They had both dozed off when Mikhail shook them gently awake. ‘Sorry, sleeping beauties,’ he whispered softly. ‘Time to go.’

  29

  AS FAR AS Kate could tell, there was no one behind them. But the driver gunned through the village of Stepantsminda, as if the entire Russian intelligence community was in hot pursuit.

  They roared up the hill past Gergeti Trinity Church and on into the valley behind.

  There was only one house here, a set of twinkling lights high up above Gergeti, in the lee of Mount Kazbegi. They pulled through a set of security gates that seemed spectacularly incongruous in the middle of nowhere and then Mikhail led them up the stairs to the terrace above.

  The house was done up in a similar style to the hotel opposite – a temple of oak, fur and glass – with a roaring fire on a giant raised hearth. A woman in a black skirt and white shirt hurried forward to offer them a drink in fluent English. They both declined. Mikhail warmed his backside against the fire. ‘How was your day?’ he asked Kate.

  ‘Pleasant. It’s quite a spot.’

  ‘We used to come here a lot when I was a child.’

  ‘When did you build the house?’

  ‘Six years ago.’

  They lapsed into silence. Mikhail appeared uncharacteristically nervous. Kate went out to the wooden deck and looked back towards the rear of Gergeti Trinity Church. Julie appeared beside her and offered her a cigarette. Kate couldn’t resist. ‘I’m definitely giving up when we get back.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Mrs Henderson.’ Kate spun around to see a bull of a man striding across the lounge towards her. He wore blue jeans, cowboy boots and a scuffed leather jacket. He looked like a tougher, fatter George W. Bush, his hair greying at the temples. He exuded purpose, confidence, as men in his position often did. ‘Thank you for coming all this way.’

  Igor Borodin had been such a remote and legendary figure in the shadowy world of espionage for so long that Kate was momentarily lost for words. Bright blue eyes scrutinized her with barely concealed curiosity. ‘You’ll need a drink,’ he said.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘It wasn’t a suggestion.’ He went to the table, poured four glasses of vodka and brought them on a tray towards them. They all dutifully toasted and drank. ‘Welcome to the land of my forefathers,’ he said. He returned to the fire. ‘Sit,’ he said. That wasn’t a suggestion either. ‘What happened in London?’ he asked. It was directed at Kate. When she didn’t answer immediately, he put a booted foot on the sofa next to him and leant on his knee. ‘We are capable of reading the news.’

  ‘The foreign secretary authorized this operation. Then someone leaked it.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘We don’t know yet.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘The prime minister personally authorized that it should go ahead.’

  Igor seemed surprised by that. He dropped down into the sofa, put his boot on to the long oak coffee-table and gazed into the fire. ‘Why?’

  ‘He’ll find a way to take control of the authentication of the video and make sure it’s pronounced a fake.’

  ‘And what does that mean for my son and me?’

  ‘Nothing. Your defection is an enormous coup for SIS in any event, so you will be safe. None of us can really be sure how the politics will play out in the end, but it won’t make any difference to you.’

  ‘If it is pronounced a fake, the pressure to send us back where we came from will be irresistible.’

  Kate shook her head. Sometimes, even the most sophisticated of opponents were wont to underestimate the strictures of the Western democratic system, in which no amount of politics was permitted to overwhelm the law. ‘You’ll have the most expensive lawyers money can buy, which is saying something, and our courts will never send you back to Moscow.’ She glanced at Mikhail. ‘You know that.’

  ‘The leak compromises the operation.’

  ‘Strangely, it forces the prime minister into a position where he has to accept your defection.’

  Igor turned to her. ‘You were very foolish to seek out your friend Sergei Malinsky. The GRU has its own spies in London. They knew you were coming.’

  ‘Who are their spies?’

  ‘If I knew the GRU’s secrets, I would not be sitting here.’

  ‘How do you know I came to meet Sergei?’

  ‘Everyone in Moscow is aware of it.’

  ‘Why did they not kill me as well?’

  ‘Because we protected you, for long enough to get you out of the country.’ He gave her an icy smile. ‘You are our passport to the West. We just did not expect you to do something so foolish.’

  Kate avoided Julie’s gaze. She stood, placed her glass carefully on the table. ‘The plane will be ready to go at five p.m. tomorrow. I think we should leave here in the morning, so that we are ready just in case it comes in early. We have a secure room at the airport.’

  Igor nodded. Now she came to think about it, he had all the warmth of a reptile. ‘Mikhail will show you to your rooms,’ he said.

  Mikhail did so and bade them goodnight. Kate hadn’t had time to sit on her bed before Julie burst through the door. ‘When were you going to tell me about Sergei?’

  Kate put her fingers to her lips, to indicate there was every chance the room was bugged, but Julie just shook her head in incredulity. ‘You think it matters?’

  ‘I didn’t tell you because it would have served no purpose.’

  Julie was genuinely furious. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I told you. I took the train with him to Moscow.’

  ‘Yes, but you left a mildly important bit of the story out.’

  ‘About halfway through the night, I went to the loo. When I came back, he was dead. They’d cut his throat. There wasn’t much sign of a struggle, so I think it was someone he knew.’

  ‘You think . . .’ Julie pointed to indicate Igor.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Kate sat on the bed, fatigue overwhelming her. ‘That was why I called Stuart. I had to get out of there. But I have no idea who killed Sergei, or why they spared me and let me escape.’

  ‘Maybe it was like he said. They were protecting you.’

  ‘Who knows? Perhaps they saw me coming, just as they apparently did in Andros and Berlin. I’ve been over it a thousand times. I’ve looked through the files. Suzy is not wro
ng: the unanswered questions are legion. But that is in the nature of our business. What we don’t understand will always be greater than what we do. There are many things we can’t see and may never get to find out about. So, I’ve decided to concentrate only on the fundamentals before us.’

  She stood up. ‘This offer of defection is unrivalled. Why would Igor want to come to the West unless the story he tells is real and his offer of cooperation genuine? I’ve seen the video. They have promised evidence of the many payments. We have no choice but to proceed.’

  ‘What do you mean – they saw you coming?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘I don’t know if Stuart was Viper or not, or if he was, whether someone bigger and more import ant was left behind. He swore to me on our drive to St Petersburg that he never passed on any important operational details about my work.’

  ‘And you believed him?’

  Kate went to the window, pulled back the curtains and gazed up at the snowy peak of Mount Kazbegi. ‘I don’t know. I wanted to.’

  ‘But he’s lied to you and cheated on you before.’

  ‘True, but he’s desperate for reconciliation.’

  ‘He says he is.’

  ‘He’s not a good actor.’ Kate turned to face her friend again. ‘Perhaps they’ve just found a way to track my movements that I have yet to work out. I don’t know. We may never know. If you’re asking me, I suspect Igor or some of his people were alerted to my presence in Russia, perhaps by someone at the border, and resolved to eliminate Sergei lest he undermine their story or spoil their plan to defect in any way. Nothing else makes sense to me.

  ‘So, I return always to the same point. I think this offer to come over to us is real. The video looked credible. The politics of what happens after this may prove very complicated and, the way I feel, I might not want to be around to witness it. But that’s a battle for another day.’

  ‘What do you mean, you might not be around to witness it?’

  ‘I have to sleep.’

  ‘If you’re resigning, so am I.’

  Kate was already reaching for the zopiclone in her bag. Julie took the hint and withdrew.

  Perhaps it was the purity of the mountain air, but Kate slept until about eight the following morning. There was no sign of Igor and Mikhail, so she helped herself to coffee and a croissant from the lavish breakfast laid out on the dining table and ate it on the terrace. After that, she left by a side gate and walked down to the Gergeti Trinity Church, which was thronged with tourists even at that time of the morning, the monks fussing around the under-dressed women, demanding they cover their legs and heads.

  By the time she returned, Igor and Mikhail stood by the SUV, with Mikhail’s wife and young son. Another was just pulling up behind it. ‘We need to go,’ Mikhail said.

  ‘What’s the rush?’

  But he waved away the need for an answer. Julie came out, still eating her croissant, and they got into the back of the second SUV. ‘What’s going on?’ Julie asked Kate, as the doors were closed on them. Kate shrugged.

  They reversed out on to the gravel track beyond the gate, then followed Igor and Mikhail’s lead towards the valley floor. The weather was better, but the return journey was no less terrifying. Soon enough, though, they were back on the course of the River Terek as it found its way down towards the capital, the dramatic mountain scenery replaced by dilapidated houses hidden behind the ash, poplar and sycamore trees that lined much of the road. It was just after midday as they passed through the city centre and, not long after that, pulled into the old Soviet-era terminal building that served as the waiting area for private flights. Ian and Suzy were already there and the former’s smile at his capture of this huge intelligence fish, and the credit he would no doubt claim for it, could on its own have powered the plane.

  After the introductions had been made, Igor retreated with his family to the far side of the room, pointedly indicating he had no desire to engage in small-talk.

  Ian strode over to Kate. ‘I told you not to go off grid.’ She didn’t bother to answer and she didn’t need to, his excitement overriding any temptation for further recrimination. ‘This is coming off like a dream,’ he said. ‘Any sign of problems?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Anyone on your tail?’

  ‘He wanted to move earlier than we expected this morning, but I wouldn’t read too much into that.’

  ‘Excellent.’ He looked at his prized catch. ‘What a bloody coup,’ he said softly to himself, barely hiding a note of self-congratulation. ‘The plane is coming in early,’ he said. ‘Should be here any moment now.’

  And so it was, landing in the distance and pulling up within fifty yards of the terminal entrance. There was no security, of course, their only brush with officialdom a tame Customs official, whom Sarah Creaven had brought to check their passports, including the fakes that had been supplied to Igor and his family.

  Kate gossiped with Sarah, whom she’d worked with in Lahore for a while, and then they were all walking towards the plane. They climbed aboard, Ian dropping into the battered leather seat beside her. He glanced at their surroundings. ‘Only the finest on Her Majesty’s Secret Service,’ he muttered, then peered out of the window to check that no one was steaming in to intercept them. ‘Like bloody clockwork,’ he said again.

  Kate’s phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from Fiona. She opened it with a smile to find a video of her daughter. She put in her headphones, attached them to her phone and pressed play. Fiona was tied to a chair, with her brother, in some kind of warehouse, both stripped to their underwear. They looked terrified.

  ‘Mum,’ Fiona said, crying. ‘They kidnapped us, blindfolded us, took us somewhere miles away . . .’ Fiona glanced nervously off camera. ‘They say they know what you’re doing and if that plane takes off with the defeater . . .’ another terrified glance ‘. . . the defectors aboard, then they’ll behead us both. Please, Mum . . .’ She and Gus started to weep. ‘They’ll let us go if you leave the defectors there in Georgia . . .’

  The screen went black.

  30

  A MINUTE LATER, Kate stood opposite Ian on the tarmac, an afternoon breeze tugging at her hair. The engines were already running, so they’d had to walk away from the steps to be able to converse. And Ian was shaking his head. ‘We can’t,’ he said.

  The panic in Kate’s chest was so intense she felt as if she were about to have a heart attack. Ian forestalled a tirade with a raised hand. ‘We’ll find them,’ he said. ‘We’ll throw everything at it, but this operation is a matter of national security.’

  ‘They have my children!’ she shouted.

  ‘And we’ll stop at nothing to track them down.’

  She gestured at the plane. ‘We have to leave them here.’

  ‘Kate—’

  ‘For God’s sake, Ian. The operation is compromised. Someone has told Moscow when, where and how we were intending to extract them. They are threatening to kill—’

  ‘And we’ll stop them before they have a chance even to think about doing that, but we have absolutely no indication your children will be any safer if we abandon this operation. In fact, the reverse may be true. We will immediately have lost any leverage.’

  ‘We have to leave them!’

  ‘Kate, just think about this for a moment. If we depart without them, whoever has your children will have no incentive whatsoever to keep them alive.’

  ‘I’m calling Sir Alan.’

  ‘No! Do not do that. I am in operational charge here and I expressly forbid—’

  She walked away from him.

  ‘Kate! I’m warning you!’

  She pulled up Sir Alan’s number and dialled. Ian tried to take her phone away and she rammed her shoulder into his chest. ‘For God’s sake!’ he yelled.

  Sir Alan answered. ‘I’m making the assumption this is a matter of life and death.’

  ‘They have Fiona and Gus. They’ve just sent me a video of them both stripped to their und
erwear and tied to chairs in what looks like a warehouse. Fiona says they’ll be beheaded if we take off with Igor and Mikhail onboard.’

  Sir Alan was silent for a moment. ‘Is there any possibility the video they sent you was faked? Have you tried to get hold of either of them?’

  Kate had not even considered this possibility. Her heart skipped a beat. ‘No, I—’

  ‘Have you told Ian?’

  ‘Yes, he’s here. He’s trying to insist the operation goes ahead.’

  ‘Establish your children are missing. If they are, you’ll have to call the operation off. Tell Igor and Mikhail we’ll come back for them. I’ll call the ops room and press the emergency button.’

  He rang off. Another call came in, this time from Fiona and Gus’s school. ‘Hello, Mrs Henderson. I do hope everything is all right. We’re just checking why Fiona and Gus were both absent from school today.’

  Kate didn’t wait to hear what else she had to say. She called Rose. Her phone went straight to its message service. She tried the Finance Department.

  ‘Celine Jones,’ a woman said.

  ‘Celine, it’s Kate Henderson from the Russia desk here. Is Rose there?’

  ‘No, Mrs Henderson, she is not. I was about to call you, actually, because I know she’s been staying at your house this week. She hasn’t come to work today and her mobile phone goes straight to answering machine. I was wondering if everything was all right.’

  Kate ended the call. She turned to find Igor Borodin striding towards her. Ian tried to interrupt his progress, but Igor swatted him away as if he were an irritating distraction. ‘What is going on, Mrs Henderson?’

  ‘They have taken my children. They’re threatening to behead them if we take off with you onboard.’

  ‘My former colleagues will have subcontracted the work to Serbian or Albanian gangsters. As soon as they know in Moscow they have thwarted this defection, the gangsters will cover their tracks. The only chance your children have is to take us on that plane with you.’