Operation Destruct

by Christopher Nicole

  “I obeyed my orders, Mr. Anders.”

  “And your crew?”

  Alexis shrugged. “They died, Mr. Anders, in the execution of their duty. We must all be prepared to do that.”

  *

  It occurred to Jonathan that he had not understood what he was getting into. But then, neither had Craufurd. A man does not send eleven people to their deaths, unless something exceptional is at stake. Come to think of it, he realized, the ordinary man does not send eleven men to their deaths, no matter what is at stake. The realization was rather like being kicked in the stomach.

  Anna Cantelna’s fingers left his neck, and she dried them with a handkerchief. “It is a ghastly thought, is it not, Mr. Anders? But the crew were all volunteers, and they knew they were on a highly dangerous mission. They had been told that we would never accept capture.”

  Jonathan licked his lips. “But you got ashore, Madam Cantelna.”

  “It so happens that I was on the bridge when we struck. The unusual motion of the seas as we got into shallow water awoke me, and I dressed and went out, and walked right into Tigran’s pistol. He merely told me to stand on the other side of the bridge, and say not a word. He was very confident.”

  “And what happened to him?”

  “When he discovered what was happening, which was not until a lighthouse on the shore fired some rockets to warn us that we were too close—it was very dark, and really impossible to see anything outside the ship except the foam—Tigran ran to the wheel to try to force the quartermaster to alter course. There was a scuffle, and while we were trying to disarm him, the Ludmilla struck. Alexis gave me a lifebelt and told me to help him launch one of the rubber dinghies. The mate helped us, and we managed to get clear, but the mate was washed overboard.”

  “I see you believe in being first off your ship, captain, instead of last,” Jonathan remarked.

  “You are a very young man, Mr. Anders,” Alexis said contemptuously. “Perhaps you think obeying orders is a simple matter. It is never that. And yet orders must be obeyed. Mine were perfectly clear. The Ludmilla was to be scuttled if there was any possibility of her being captured. That was order number one. Order number two instructed me to protect Madam Cantelna at all costs, subject only to the requirements of order number one. As it happens, I was able to obey them both.”

  “And so you got ashore, and were lucky enough to find these people willing to take you in and conceal your presence.”

  “But of course not, Mr. Anders,” Anna Cantelna said. “Do you suppose we would leave such things to chance?” Suddenly her fingers were back, pressing gently into his throat, dried now, and cool. “Certainly we were lucky to get ashore, but once that was accomplished we knew exactly where to go for shelter. We have an operative like Robert established in every sizable town in the world. They draw a retainer, but are required to do nothing except fulfill their role as normal and, if possible, useful members of their local communities, with the proviso that they are always available for the use of the Soviet Union should there be need. I believe I am right in saying that in twenty years this has been the first occasion on which Robert has been called upon to earn his pay. Poor man, he is not enjoying it one little bit. You see, Mr. Anders, the Ludmilla unfortunately did not drive onto the reef, to be battered to pieces. She merely touched, opened what must be a considerable gash in her hull, slipped off again, and went down like a stone.”

  “Thirty-seven seconds,” Alexis said somberly. “No one who was not on deck stood the slightest chance, and even then, three of those who were on the bridge went down with her.”

  Jonathan realized that Alexis was rehearsing a story here, perhaps trying to convince himself that there was nothing else he could have done, more probably thinking in terms of the court of inquiry he would have to face if and when he got back to Russia.

  “So we were left with the possibility that she had not broken up sufficiently to destroy my laboratory,” Anna Cantelna said. “Thus, while Robert and Edna would no doubt have preferred us to leave last Friday, we have been ordered to remain here, pending the arrival of a team of divers from Leningrad to investigate the wreck, officially to discover what happened, actually to complete the destruction of any of my equipment that may remain intact. Unfortunately, as our survival must remain a secret—indeed, my very presence on board must be kept secret—we find ourselves somewhat in the position of hunted criminals, and of course, we have disrupted Edna’s and Robert’s normal social lives. But we are hoping to be away by tomorrow night.”

  “And just how are you proposing to leave?” Jonathan asked.

  “It is not going to be difficult, Mr. Anders. Our man from the London Embassy has brought us a complete set of English currency as well as passports and all other necessary papers, suggesting that we are no more than tourists who have been visiting Guernsey. As one does not really need a passport to visit Guernsey from England, there is no possibility of a check as to how long we have been here, and as the Ludmilla only carried a crew of eleven, and eleven bodies have been recovered, there is absolutely no reason for anyone to connect us with that tragedy.”

  “What about the link between you and the Embassy official?”

  “But there is no link, Mr. Anders. You do not imagine Frasnikov drove up here in a Rolls-Royce? I have never even seen him. I believe he is staying at a hotel in St. Peter Port. No, he brought the papers with him, and mailed them from here in Guernsey. Local parcel post, Mr. Anders, without the least suggestion that it was worth looking at twice. Now I am sure you will agree that I have supplied you with every bit of information that you could possibly require.” She released him, got up, and walked round in front of him to take a cigarette from the box on the table. “Do you smoke?”

  “I don’t, thanks very much.”

  “Very wise. Well?”

  “To complete my report I’d have to say something about the nature of the experiment you were engaged on.”

  Anna Cantelna laughed. “I like you, Mr. Anders. I like you more and more with every moment I spend in your company. You will play the game to the very end, eh? But as I told you just now, the experiment is purely of technical interest. Were you going to mention it in a report you could say it was a detailed study of the movements of large shoals of fish. Would that not suffice?”

  “I suppose it will have to do.” Jonathan stood up. “This has been an intensely interesting chat, Madam Cantelna. You may be sure that I will give as full a report as possible to my superior, and no doubt he will be in touch with the Soviet Embassy.”

  “Oh, but you cannot go so soon, Mr. Anders,” Anna Cantelna said softly. She sat on the settee beside him. “I am hoping you are to be similarly frank with me. As you mentioned just now, there was at least a possibility that Tigran had suffered some sort of brainstorm, and had suddenly decided to defect, although really the whole operation seemed far too well timed, and too perfectly rehearsed for a sudden decision like that. That Tigran and I were going to be on board the Ludmilla was known only to Tigran and me, before the Ludmilla sailed, and to a single chief secretary of the party. Not even Alexis knew what was the purpose of the trip until after he had left Sevastopol, and Alexis, in case you are confused about his part in this business, is no ordinary trawler skipper.”

  “I had already come to that conclusion,” Jonathan said.

  “You are perceptive. Alexis is a senior officer in the Russian Navy, Mr. Anders, appointed to this expedition because of its importance and because of its secrecy. Yet while he was ignorant of our purpose until after we left Sevastopol, it seems that our presence on board was known in London. The traitor had to be Tigran, and of course, this is confirmed both by his actions and by your reactions. Make no mistake about that, Mr. Anders. I had a great deal of training in the art of interrogation by testing the heartbeat. You showed no reaction at all to our story of shipwreck, and none when we told you that Edna and Robert are Soviet agents, and have been for twenty years. But every time Katorzin’s or my n
ame was mentioned your pulse rate changed. So now I wish to know how long Tigran has been playing his double role. This is something which affects me very much. Which affects my entire future, you could say. For I picked him to be my assistant, and quite apart from the lives lost and the money wasted because of his double dealing, you English have a saying, have you not, that mud sticks?”

  “Well, of course, I would like to help you,” Jonathan said. “But I was told ‘There’s a Russian ship gone down off Guernsey. See if you can find out what happened.’”

  “You are lying, Mr. Anders. Surely you have sufficient intelligence to understand that I know that.”

  “Dumb bunny, that’s me,” Jonathan said pleasantly. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  Her smile was cold. “You do not believe that to us at least this is a very serious matter. It has already cost the lives of eleven men. One more is hardly going to increase the burden on my shoulders.” She got up, stood above him. “Perhaps you are making an all too common mistake, in men. You see someone in a skirt, and you think to yourself, there is a woman, and therefore I am her superior. Or even if it is not framed as crudely as that, you still feel, deep in your subconscious, that except perhaps in matters like love or for the protection of her children, a woman can never be as dangerous, as interested, as a man. Well, you would be wrong, Mr. Anders. I am a scientist first, and a woman second. In fact, you could say that out of every twenty-four hours I am a woman for perhaps an hour. I make this concession because I like good clothes.” She shrugged. “I feel you see me at a disadvantage in these rags. But at this moment I have no inclination to be a woman. To me you are a specimen on a slab, a foreign body which can interfere with the smooth running of my experiment. Should this prove to be the case, I will remove the specimen from the slab and destroy it. Do you understand me, Mr. Anders?”

  *

  The pitch of her voice had not altered. And yet she was threatening his life, coldly and dispassionately. It was incredible that only the day before he had been seated across a chessboard from Jacob Arno, his only problem whether or not to return the captured pawns. He wondered if he had any pawns available now. Only her carelessness in standing up and leaning over him, for she was between him and the shotgun.

  He transmitted thought into action without further consideration, propelled himself forward and upward, throwing both arms round the woman’s waist and carrying her with him, jumping on to the settee and vaulting over the back, Anna Cantelna held in front of him like a shield.

  “Robert!” Alexis shouted. “Enwright! In here, quickly.”

  Anna Cantelna kicked him on the ankle and tried to get her hands free. “Put me down, you stupid boy,” she snapped, still without raising her voice. “You cannot fight three men.”

  The door burst open. “Put the gun down, captain,” Robert said. “We’ll have to risk smashing a bit of furniture.”

  Anna Cantelna pulled her right hand free, struck at Jonathan’s eyes. He slapped her face, hard enough to bring a quick flush to her cheeks as her head jerked backward, and then released her, so that she fell to her knees. Instantly he was kneeling beside her, holding her by the throat.

  “I can break her neck before you reach me,” he said, and hoped he sounded as if he meant it.

  Enwright, already started toward him, hesitated, glancing at Alexis, who still held the shotgun.

  “Do not be a fool, Mr. Anders,” Alexis said. “You know my order of priorities. If you attempt to leave this room I will kill you.”

  “You’ll hit the madam,” Enwright said. “That shot spreads.”

  “Then I will hit the madam, as you say,” Alexis agreed without emotion.

  Anna Cantelna stared at the shotgun with wide eyes. She did not wish to die. And Jonathan realized that he could not kill her. He wondered what Craufurd would say to that? Somewhere along the line a certain aspect of his training had been neglected. Or perhaps Anna Cantelna had been right after all, and the British were no longer capable of playing for the highest of stakes.

  “Well, Mr. Anders?” Alexis asked.

  In the courtyard the van engine growled as it turned into the garage. Jonathan sighed, and released the woman, getting to his feet as he did so.

  Anna Cantelna rubbed her throat. “Mr. Anders is a gentleman, Alexis. I am rather glad of that. Robert, Edna has returned. Ask her to step in here, will you?”

  The blonde woman gazed at Jonathan with wide eyes. “There’s been trouble?”

  “Nothing serious. What have you found out?”

  “He is staying at Oceanview, like he said.”

  “By himself?”

  “Yes. But just after landing he spent some time talking with two other visitors at the airport. A man and a woman.”

  “Did you find out their names?”

  “Well, no. I didn’t want to appear too curious. It would have meant finding their taxi driver.”

  “Nevertheless, I would like you to do that for me as soon as possible, Edna. Did you buy those things I wanted?”

  Edna patted her shopping bag. “I have them here. Oh, the man at the airport did say that from what he heard he thought Mr. Anders’ friends might be Americans, or Canadians.”

  “Is that so? Now that I find very interesting indeed. Yes, Edna, I’m afraid I must ask you to go right out again and discover the names of those people and where they are staying.”

  “But what about lunch?”

  Anna Cantelna smiled. “We’ll make do with a sandwich. This is rather a special occasion.”

  “I hope you’ll include me in that,” Jonathan said. “Breakfast seems to have been an awfully long time ago.”

  “I’m afraid you will have to miss lunch as well.” Anna Cantelna placed the shopping bag on the table and opened it. “You seem to have everything here, Edna. Did your purchases arouse any curiosity?”

  “Well, they’re not very usual, are they?”

  “I suppose not. Off you go, now. And please make a good job of it. Alexis, I think you and Enwright should take Mr. Anders upstairs and secure him. I shall not be very long.” She began unloading bottles.

  Jonathan squinted at the labels. “Ether?” he said. “And sulphur? Can you really make Sodium Pentothal in the bathtub, Madam Cantelna?”

  “I can, Mr. Anders.”

  “Walk in front of me,” Alexis said. “Enwright, fetch me some of your clothesline.”

  Jonathan glanced at the shotgun, climbed the stairs.

  “The first door on your left,” Alexis said.

  The bedroom was very small, containing an iron bedstead, a dressing table, and a single chair; there was a threadbare rug on the floor. The curtain was drawn across the window.

  “Lie on the bed,” Alexis said. “But take off your sweater first. It is sufficiently warm in here, would you not say?”

  “Positively hot,” Jonathan agreed. He took off his sweater, felt in his pockets, located his weighted handkerchief. Alexis had given the shotgun to Enwright, and the fisherman remained in the doorway. But this was not a training session. Surely patience would provide him with a better opportunity. He sat on the bed. “What about my shoes?”

  Alexis shrugged. “You are a very cool young man, Mr. Anders. I agree with Anna, it is very fortunate for us your employers neglected to train you how to kill. In our business it is so often necessary.” He extended Jonathan’s arms above his head, secured them to the bedpost with the nylon cord.

  “And would you really have shot Madam Cantelna to stop my leaving?”

  “Certainly, if it had become necessary. Anna knew that.”

  “How very comforting for you,” Jonathan said. He continued to gaze at the twin muzzles of the shotgun, above which Enwright stared at him with an expression of mingled determination and relief that he was now trussed. Too late it occurred to him that one is always inclined to overestimate the other fellow, when it comes to violence. Enwright was certainly old enough to have fought in the Second World War, he supposed, but even that
was no guarantee that he had ever actually shot anybody, or was prepared to do so now, especially with such a decisive weapon as a shotgun. Something to remember, next time. If there was going to be a next time. Alexis had secured his feet in a similar fashion, and now stood above him.

  “I hope you are comfortable, Mr. Anders,” he said. “I wish you to understand that neither Madam Cantelna nor I wish to cause you any pain, or any more discomfort than is absolutely necessary.” He switched off the light and closed the door, and the room was suddenly dark. Jonathan tried pulling on his bonds, and kicking his legs, but without success. Alexis had tied his knots like the sailor he was.

  He tried to relax, and think. Strange how reluctant he was to do that. So far his career in the field had proved a dismal failure. His identifying of Madam Cantelna had been pure instinct, and it had been a bad mistake. Lesson Number One: No more instinctive reactions. But was this fair? By identifying Anna Cantelna he had at least learned something. Perhaps an expert at the game, like the man Headly he had encountered in the house in Wiltshire, would have been able to carry it off from there. And certainly James Bond, having extracted every bit of information by pretending to submit to Anna’s interrogation, would already be breaking out of here. Whereas Jonathan Anders had been bereft of ideas except the rather silly conception of trying to bluff them into thinking he was only part of a team.

  And in point of fact, had he learned anything of real value? With charming frankness Anna Cantelna had told him everything that had happened on board the trawler. But she had not told him the purpose of the trawler’s voyage, had not identified the experiment on which she and Katorzin had been working, an experiment of such importance that a senior officer had been seconded from the Russian Navy to take command of a three-hundred-ton vessel, of such secrecy that eleven men had been condemned to death merely to keep the information secret from the British authorities.

  That the information would continue to be kept secret he did not doubt. At the very best they would keep him here until the wreck could be destroyed. At the very best. The atmosphere in this house was so relaxed, so confident, it was difficult to associate it with physical danger. He had to keep reminding himself of those eleven men, had to keep remembering the chill in her voice when she had threatened him. He wondered if he was afraid, if fear had been the real reason why he had been unable to kill Anna Cantelna, the real reason he had decided not to use his handkerchief and attempt to take on Alexis and Enwright. He had always presumed that fear would be a conscious disability, like extreme tiredness or drunkenness, an awareness that further action was not at this moment possible. Instead, of course, it manifested itself only as an inability to think, to plan. He could only keep attempting to convince himself that this could not really be happening; that they could not really be meaning to kill him, on this most peaceful and quiet of islands; that there was no sufficient reason for them to kill him; that nothing could be worth a man’s life.