Tinker, Tailor, Schoolmum, Spy

by Faye Brann

  And reassure Jonathan she wasn’t going to blow the whole thing wide open at the sight of her ex, no doubt. ‘Good idea. What’s the latest news at the port?’ she said.

  ‘The ship arrived a few hours ago from China,’ Anatoli said, as they walked along the beach.

  ‘Once it’s completed the docking formalities, the customs officials will process the paperwork for the containers it is carrying.’

  ‘The cargo’s been shipped from China using false paperwork, and we’re planning to let it go landside without a hitch,’ Tariq said to Vicky. ‘Sacha believes Anatoli has successfully bribed an officer to process it without a stop and search, so, once they have the all-clear, the two containers will continue their journey by road.’

  ‘The transfer is taking place a few kilometres from the Saudi border,’ Anatoli continued. ‘Sacha has asked me to oversee it personally; he’s not letting the load leave the country until he has his money. He’s asked me to stay on the phone while the exchange takes place, and he’ll give me the signal when the money is in his account.’

  ‘The National Crime Agency are standing by in London to follow the money,’ Vicky said. ‘They’ll start the trace the second the transfer is confirmed so that we can follow the money through the maze that his accountant will have created.’

  ‘The sum we’re talking about should create a blip somewhere in the system,’ Tariq said. ‘If we can tell them when to look for it, it won’t be long before the guys at the NCA find out where.’

  ‘How are you going to know exactly when the transfer takes place?’ asked Vicky. ‘It’s too dangerous for Anatoli to wear a wire, surely, in case the buyers decide to search him.’

  Tariq turned to Anatoli. ‘We’re giving you a listening device you can wear that we’ll only turn on when the money transfer has been made. That way, it won’t be picked up if they search you when you arrive at the exchange but we’ll still be able to hear what’s going on. If there’s any trouble, we’ll be tailing the trucks all the way from Dubai and we’ll have cover at the border, so you won’t ever be on your own.’

  ‘Are we making arrests at the exchange?’ Vicky said.

  ‘The drivers this side are clean. Pakistani, no links, they’ll probably be let go at the border and some heavier duty grunts put in place for the drive through Saudi. We believe the end buyer is waiting in Iraq, near the Syrian border,’ Tariq paused. ‘Special Forces will execute a drone strike once there’s visual clarification that they’ve arrived at their final destination.’

  Vicky stopped walking for a moment. ‘What about Sacha?’

  ‘This is where it gets complicated. We have to keep Sacha in play until the guns reach their destination; we don’t want any alarms raised before we have the chance to take down the bad guys buying this shit as well,’ Tariq said.

  ‘So, we are going to have to hope Sacha sits tight once the deal is done, until the containers are delivered to their rightful owners,’ Vicky said.

  ‘That’s where you come in, Vicky,’ Tariq said. ‘You have a good relationship with Matisse. We need you to keep tabs on what the family are doing and give the red flag if and when Sacha shows signs of bolting.’

  Vicky nodded. She glanced at Anatoli. She detected a slight change of pace in his step as the conversation moved towards Matisse. Did he still have feelings for her?

  She continued the conversation, watching Anatoli more carefully now. ‘Any leads yet, on where Sacha’s planning to go?’

  ‘We found a fake passport in his hotel safe last night, while the family were out at dinner,’ Tariq said. ‘Name of Igor Petrushev. Our best guess is he’ll head for Iran first, then maybe China, but if we let him get that far and he swaps passports again we could easily lose him.’

  ‘What about Matisse?’ Anatoli asked.

  Ah. So, he did still hold a torch for her. He’d kept his tone casual, but she could tell he was far from relaxed as he reached for a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

  ‘She’s not your concern, Anatoli.’ Tariq’s tone was firm, intended to shut down this line of enquiry.

  Anatoli lit a cigarette. His hands shook a little and he took a long drag. To stop himself from saying something he’ll regret … Vicky remembered it from years before and motioned at Tariq to let her talk. Anatoli needed reassurance, to feel like he had some control. He was not a man who would be happy with ‘need to know’.

  ‘As far as we can tell she and her son aren’t in on the plan and Sacha’s made no moves to include them in it. But we are being cautious in case that changes and I’m going to keep them under surveillance throughout the operation.’ Relief flooded Anatoli’s face and Vicky gave him a small smile. ‘It’s what I’m here to do, Anatoli.’

  Anatoli shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe you know each other. It is a small, small world.’

  ‘Some might say not small enough,’ Tariq said. ‘Kozlovsky is staying in a villa with boat access so you can’t do this on your own, Vicky. We’ll have him and the family on twenty-four-hour surveillance and once the deal’s done we’ll have Special Forces standing by on land and sea.’

  Anatoli raised his hand.

  ‘It is true, what you are saying, that he could leave at any time. But I know Sacha,’ Anatoli said, ‘he is a showman at his heart. He won’t want to leave without a big celebration, a fanfare of sorts.’

  Vicky considered what Anatoli was saying and nodded her head. ‘I agree; Sacha isn’t a man prone to subtlety. I think we can expect some grand gesture before he makes a run for it.’

  ‘Well, whatever he is planning, we need to make sure you are both invited,’ Tariq said.

  Vicky smiled. ‘I think I can wangle an invitation.’

  Anatoli smiled with her. ‘She used to be pretty good at getting herself places she shouldn’t be.’

  Tariq looked at them both and then settled his gaze on Vicky. ‘Just keep me posted,’ he said. He looked at his watch. ‘It’s time to wrap this up.’ He passed Anatoli a box. ‘Here’s a belt for you to wear; the buckle holds the listening device. We’ll have eyes and ears on you from the moment you leave Jebel Ali Port with the trucks and will be waiting at the rendezvous with a car to get you safely back to Dubai. In case of trouble, say “I need some water” and we’ll make sure we get you out of there.’ Anatoli nodded and pocketed the belt. Tariq continued, his attention turned to Vicky.

  ‘We need you to report back on Sacha’s movements as much as you can, as often as you can, especially once the deal’s been done. We’ll send you a signal once the money’s been transferred, and we’ll put around-the-clock surveillance on Sacha to make sure he goes nowhere. But if you get even the smallest hint that he’s on the move, then let us know so that we can be prepared to move in and stop him.’

  Vicky nodded. ‘There’s one more thing,’ she said. ‘William Rogers, Sacha’s accountant. He’s here with his family. Matisse sent me a photo of them last night.’

  Tariq nodded. ‘Jonathan passed on your message. We think he’s here as insurance as much as anything else, but he could be useful after the arrest if we offer him a deal to corroborate the evidence.’

  ‘Insurance?’

  ‘When the money is put into Sacha’s account, he wants to make it as invisible as he can, quickly – and he won’t want any ambitious accountants skimming off the top while he’s vulnerable like that. He knows he’d be too far away to do anything about it,’ Tariq said.

  ‘So better to keep William in his sights so the poor bloke is too scared to do anything but follow orders,’ Vicky said.

  ‘Or unless he really can’t be trusted,’ Tariq said.

  ‘I dislike William as much as anyone, but he doesn’t seem like someone who’d have the guts to scam Sacha.’

  ‘We’ll soon find out, I guess.’

  They walked back along the beach and reached the point where the car dropped them off. Tariq gave Anatoli a quick shake of the hand and clapped him on the back before opening the car door.

/>   ‘Your help means a lot, Anatoli,’ he said. ‘Once we’ve got Sacha, you’ve got your ticket out of here, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you, my friend.’ He nodded his head and waited for Tariq to get into the car before leaning into Vicky.

  ‘It was very nice to see you again, Vika.’ He pretended to kiss her on the cheek, whispering in her ear with his smoky breath as he did so.

  ‘Keep her safe,’ he said.

  Vicky nodded and pulled away from him. He’d placed the trust she’d lost all those years ago back into her hands. If he only knew the enormity of the truth … she hesitated. She owed him the truth, this time. But Jonathan was right; if they told him about Dmitri, it would change everything. This time it really was a ‘need to know’.

  ‘It was nice to see you too, Anatoli.’ She got in the car. As they drove off, Vicky watched him through the tinted windows.

  ‘Does it feel strange, to see him again?’ Tariq asked. ‘Jonathan told me you had some history.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ Vicky said. She looked squarely at Tariq. ‘He’s a good man, doing something brave; something he couldn’t bring himself to do when I knew him last. I think he is driven by something far more real than we ever had, though. I think he really loves her, even after all this time. I could see it when we were talking just now.’

  ‘Does she know he’s alive?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘We need to keep it that way, make sure this doesn’t all blow up in our faces. There will be plenty of time for family reunions after all this is over,’ Tariq said.

  ‘For their sakes, I hope you’re right.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On the monitor, Vicky and Tariq watched Sacha pad about the office of his hotel room in his swimming shorts, two phones on speaker in either hand. Tariq’s team had done a great job of bugging the room and they could see and hear everything from their own room on the other side of the hotel.

  ‘The agreed sum has arrived in your account by wire transfer,’ William’s usually pompous voice sounded a trifle nervous. ‘That’s an awful lot of money, old chap.’

  It was an awful lot of guns. Vicky held her breath and waited for Sacha’s next move.

  ‘Thank you, William,’ Sacha said. ‘Start transacting and get rid of the trail.’ He cut William off and put the phone in his right hand down on the desk. He lifted the second phone to his ear. ‘Anatoli? It’s done. Hand the trucks over.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Sacha put the phone down without saying goodbye and wandered over to the sofa. Vicky fist-pumped the air. The transfer had gone without a hitch and they had him. They had Sacha.

  Tariq activated the listening device on Anatoli’s belt. There was heavy static, but Vicky could hear Anatoli making a brief exchange in English with a man with a heavy Arabic accent.

  ‘That must be the agent,’ she said.

  The meeting point had been just off the main road, somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed by passing traffic. Over the drone of the motorway, she heard two doors slam.

  ‘Okay, they’re on their way. Let’s pick up Anatoli.’ Tariq was about to speak into a walkie-talkie when Vicky stopped him.

  ‘Hang on. I can hear shouting.’

  ‘It’s Urdu,’ said Tariq. ‘It must be the drivers of the trucks.’

  ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘They’re asking why they must leave their vehicles.’

  ‘They sound scared.’

  ‘It’s as we expected; the agent is swapping them out for his own drivers.’

  Anatoli’s voice rang out through the speaker. ‘Stop. Where are you taking them?’

  Vicky could sense his agitation and gripped her chair.

  ‘Wait, no – NO!’

  Three shots rang out followed by rustling and a thud at close range.

  ‘Anatoli?’ She felt sick. Had they shot the drivers? Had they shot him too?

  Tariq spoke urgently into his walkie-talkie. ‘Shots fired, repeat, shots fired. Do not engage. Charlie One stand by to follow the trucks. All other units stand by.’

  ‘Wait – aren’t you going to help them now?’ Vicky stared at Tariq.

  ‘We need to let the trucks go. They have to reach the buyers or the whole operation is compromised.’

  ‘But what about Anatoli, you can’t just leave him—’ She hung her head. She’d promised herself there wouldn’t be blood on her hands this time. Now three people were dead—

  ‘Can anyone hear me?’ A whisper came from the surveillance followed by more rustling and the sound of gunfire again. ‘I really need some water.’

  ‘He’s alive,’ Tariq said. ‘Delta One, try to get a location on Ivanov. Proceed to extract with caution.’

  They kept Anatoli’s feed live and listened into the comms from the rescue team. There was another spatter of gunfire, followed by shouting in Arabic.

  ‘He must be hiding somewhere. They’re going to find him if we aren’t quick.’ Tariq got back on the comms to the rescue team. ‘Update me.’

  ‘We have him in sight, sir. Shall we go in?’

  ‘Hold your position.’

  ‘Why can’t you just shoot?’ Vicky tried to keep her emotions at bay, but she was too terrified and too angry. Yes, the operation was important, but they’d put Anatoli in this position. He’d trusted them—

  ‘I told you – we need those trucks to get to the buyers. Hang on—’ Tariq held up his index finger. ‘I think they’re leaving.’

  Anatoli spoke again, to everyone’s relief. ‘They’ve gone. Please, come and get me.’ His voice was thin and shocked. ‘I think I’m bleeding.’

  ‘Delta One?’

  ‘Trucks are en route, sir. Area is clear.’

  Tariq gave the command to move in and Vicky waited for the rescue team to make contact again. Finally, a message came over the comms.

  ‘Got him, sir. Headed back to base.’

  ‘He’s okay?’ Vicky couldn’t help herself.

  ‘A little shaken and a surface wound from a bullet graze, but, yes, he’s okay. He’s calling Kozlovsky now.’

  On the monitor, Vicky could see Sacha propped on a sofa in his hotel room, having poured himself a drink. The phone on the coffee table rang and Sacha’s face screwed up in annoyance as he hit the speaker. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Your agent is a fucking dog. He shot the truck drivers, then he tried to shoot me,’ came Anatoli’s breathless voice.

  ‘You got away?’ Sacha said. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Hid in the scrub while they put a few bullets around the place, but they gave up after a while and got into the trucks. I waited until they left, then ran back to the main road and thumbed a lift. I’m on my way back now.’

  Vicky shuddered. She could hear the truth of the story in his voice.

  ‘Who are you in a car with?’ Sacha said.

  ‘It’s a van; some Egyptian guy. Don’t worry, he doesn’t speak any English, only Arabic,’ Anatoli said. ‘I told him my friends had left me for a joke, he believed me.’ He paused the conversation and spoke to the driver. ‘Joke. Nokta.’

  ‘Nokta, modheka awi,’ they heard the agent say, and both men laughed. Yes, it was very funny.

  Vicky wasn’t sure Sacha was finding it so funny. She watched his face closely.

  Anatoli’s laughter faded. ‘I left the bodies in the desert, Sacha.’

  Another pause. Sacha bent forward to get a cigar from the box on the coffee table. He lit it and puffed heavy smoke into the room.

  ‘They are nameless, faceless men in this country; it will be some time I’m sure, before anyone realises they are gone.’

  ‘It could have been me too.’

  ‘But it wasn’t.’

  ‘No. But it was way too close. I think my days of helping you out are over after this, my friend.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Anatoli, they are definitely over.’ Vicky wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a slight menace to Sacha’s words. Before she had
the chance to dissect what he’d just said, a change of mood came over Sacha suddenly, like sunshine after a storm. He gave a huge grin they could see even from the monitor.

  ‘We should celebrate. With a party.’

  ‘Anatoli was right,’ Tariq murmured to Vicky. ‘He wants to make the grand gesture.’

  Vicky was getting annoyed with Tariq. He didn’t seem to have heard Sacha’s implied threat. Or maybe he didn’t care; Anatoli was just collateral damage to him – he had been willing to let Anatoli be fed to the lions once today already.

  Anatoli seemed to be as wary as Vicky. ‘I’m not sure I’m in the mood, Sacha. I was nearly killed just now.’

  ‘Don’t be so miserable, Anatoli. You are alive, and I am rich,’ his voice rose. ‘It is Christmas, and I have friends here – you should meet William finally – and you haven’t seen Matisse in so long, either. Please, don’t make me force you to come.’

  There it was, that menacing tone again. This time, it was loud and clear.

  ‘You hear that?’ Vicky said to Tariq. ‘Something’s up.’ No doubt he thought she was letting her emotions get in the way, but he didn’t know all the players like she did.

  ‘Of course, Sacha. I will be there.’ She could hear, even though he tried to hide it, that Anatoli was worried too.

  On the monitor they could see Sacha downing his drink and levering himself off the sofa. ‘Excellent! Then shall we say, let’s meet at the marina tomorrow night? I will send you directions of where to go. And thank you, my friend. Nothing you have done will go unrewarded.’

  Sacha ended the call, stuck his cigar between his lips, grabbed his room key and left.

  ‘Target on the move,’ said Tariq, into his headset. An affirmative came back, from one of the operatives disguised as hotel staff, that they would keep him in their sights.

  Vicky glanced at her watch. ‘I have to go. The spa treatment I was supposed to be having only lasts an hour. I need to get back to Matisse.’

  ‘Go,’ Tariq said. ‘See what you can find out about this celebration. And make sure you get an invitation.’

  Vicky left the hotel room and walked along the corridor to the spa. She was emotionally wrung out and took a moment outside the entrance while she rubbed lemongrass-scented oil into her face, arms and legs and scraped her hair off her face to process the past hour’s events. Anatoli was alive, at least. But they hadn’t even reached the hard part yet. She slipped a bathrobe around her, borrowed from the MI6 surveillance team room. She needed to draw a line under what had just happened and focus on what was going to happen next.