A Friend in Deed

by G D Harper

  ‘That’s all very reassuring, Prof—, sorry, Pavel. No more checking. Now can I ask you the most important question? Why did you decide to talk to me?’

  Mikin leant a little closer to the screen. ‘I created a thing of beauty. Something that the Cold War failed to achieve. Failed to achieve despite forty years of political manoeuvring; despite all of our threats and coercion; despite unlimited budgets. The ability to subjugate the enemies of my country. And I did it using the most powerful weapon of all, the human mind. Turned the social media technology of the West back on itself and the result is what you see today. What you have found out.’

  ‘And now you want to tell people what you’ve done?’ I tried not to sound incredulous.

  ‘No, I want you to do that. I let you know what questions to ask, who to talk to. But nothing is ever to be attributed to me. You are a brilliant journalist, with a nose for where to go for a story. I don’t exist, even as anonymous source.’

  This was all moving too fast.

  ‘But I’ve got to ask why, Pavel. Why on earth would you, of all people, want to do this?’

  ‘Because I’ve been betrayed. I tell you more about that when we talk next. If I’ve convinced you of who I am, the next time we meet will be in person. Then we can get started. When can you come to Moscow?’

  The words sent a chill down my spine.

  ‘Can I get back to you on that? What’s the most secure way to contact you?’

  Mikin told me he checked the email address he used to reach me once a day. He was confident that no one knew about it, but didn’t like to log on more than necessary, in case it was discovered. That suited me. It meant I had twenty-four hours before he would expect me to get back to him. A little breathing space to figure out what to do. I was staring at the greatest story of my life, but I had been warned off in no uncertain terms about ever returning to Moscow. I wanted the story, but not at such a big risk to my safety.

  I told Tanya my concerns when we met to discuss what Mikin had said to me.

  ‘You fly back from Moscow with super-sensitive evidence in your luggage. Why did plane-ticket guys not take it from you? Maybe you are bit overreacting.’

  ‘I’m not prepared to take the risk. Finding out that I was in Moscow and what hotel I was staying at shows someone is pretty smart at keeping tabs on me. I think it’s too risky to go back.’

  ‘And Mikin can’t come to you? Can you ask him?’

  ‘I could, but it would scare him away. He could hardly keep his leaving Russia below the radar, and if we were seen together in London that’d be the end of him. No, all I can hope for is that I can continue to communicate and get information over the internet. But he’s not going to like that; he could well find someone else to work with. I’m sure there would be no shortage of takers.’

  ‘But now that he’s reached out to you, he’s going to want to see this through. He doesn’t know what you’d do if he found another journalist, whether you’d disclose his identity if he walked away from you.’ Tanya’s face lit up, as a thought struck her. ‘What about a compromise? Could I go and meet him? I’ve not been threatened. I’m in Moscow all the time with my British Council work, so being in Russia wouldn’t seem at all suspicious. Any intelligence you got from Mikin will be in Russian, so you’re going to ask for my help anyway. And it would be useful to have someone who understands the Russian psyche.’

  ‘“A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”. Isn’t that how Churchill described Russia? You’re right, Tanya, you would be the perfect go-between, if Mikin agrees. But if you get involved, you need to be part of the team. I split all my Act Now! income with Nigel, fifty–fifty. If Mikin agrees with you being the go-between, you should get an equal share.’

  ‘No, that’s not necessary, Duncan. You are friend that needs help. And I don’t think I’m Nigel’s favourite person. There would be big drama if I muscled into the little bromance the two of you have going on there.’

  ‘Don’t laugh this off, Tanya. Some scary people are hiding in the shadows with this story. I need you to take the threat seriously.’

  ‘Living in Ukraine you know to be wary of state. Don’t worry, I have head screwed on. I go to Moscow in six days for art fair. Is that good time?’

  ‘Let’s discuss it after I get a reaction from Mikin.’

  I spoke to Mikin the next day.

  ‘I’m concerned about your security if I visit you in Moscow,’ I told him. ‘On my last trip, someone found out I was there and made efforts to hasten my departure. That means there’s a risk if we’re seen together. And you might run the same risk no matter what journalist you chose to work with, even if they weren’t currently working on the Act Now! Russian story. As soon as they wrote something after their first meeting with you, they’d be a marked person on any subsequent trips.’

  ‘You raise an interesting dilemma,’ Mikin said. ‘How do you suggest getting around it?’

  ‘We need to have an intermediary, someone who regularly travels from London to Moscow so they wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. Ideally, someone who speaks Russian, who can translate any documents. And someone who I trust completely.’

  ‘And does such a perfect person exist?’ His sardonic smile made me think Mikin realised I was more concerned about my own safety than his.

  ‘They do. Tanya Petrenko, an event organiser with the British Council. She’s a close friend and has been doing translation support for me up to now. I’ve told her I have a potential new source, and she’d be willing to meet you. She will be in Moscow next week if you’d like to talk to her, see if she’s suitable.’

  ‘I don’t like too many people getting involved.’

  I saw Mikin clasping his hands tightly, a whitening of his knuckles. His tone was challenging now. ‘And Petrenko, you say her name is? So she is Ukrainian? I need someone smart to deal with, someone sensible. Not silly peasant girl, coming to Moscow with her jar of borscht and grandmother’s pickled mushrooms.’

  ‘She’s smart. And trustworthy. Why don’t you meet her and make up your mind?’

  ‘Let me think about your proposition. Your friend might be the answer.’ He forced a laugh. ‘Maybe I will get invited to her shows, start to become cultured. We’ll see.’

  Mikin’s reservations about Tanya were mild compared to Nigel’s. I explained about Mikin and how his answers to Nigel’s questions had convinced me he was real and how having him as a source would be a Good Thing – our stories on Act Now! would be even better.

  ‘The best in the world,’ I said. He gave his staccato laugh as I talked, spinning in his chair like a child on a fairground roundabout. Then I mentioned Tanya and his face clouded. The revelation that I had already told her about Mikin hit him like a hammer blow. I could see a volcano of resentment building inside him. I managed to tell him the full proposition, that I wanted Tanya to become part of the team and get an equal share, before he finally exploded.

  ‘No! It’s you and me. Holmes and Watson!’ he yelled. ‘Holmes and Watson, Holmes and Watson,’ he chanted.

  Usually, his tantrums were confined to swinging in his chair, but this time he ran around the room, screaming. He grabbed a printer, pulled it so hard the cable came out, and threw it against the wall. It crashed to the floor, fragments of black plastic going everywhere.

  ‘Nigel, why don’t you go into your bedroom, lie down for a bit, try to solve some mathematical puzzles in your head?’ I said, softening my voice like I was reciting a lullaby. ‘You know you like doing that.’

  ‘Shut up. Shut up! You want to stick it in her! That’s why you told her. You want to fuck her. Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.’

  ‘No, Nigel. She would be our Russian expert; you are the computer expert. She does different things from you. I need her to go to Russia. I can’t go and you obviously can’t. We need her.’

  ‘I’ll go to Moscow. Wa
tch me, I will.’

  ‘You can’t, Nigel. It’s full of people you don’t know. People would bump into you all the time; everything would be unfamiliar. Let her go. Please?’

  I thought Nigel was starting to calm down, but he picked up the broken lid of the printer and ran over to me. He swung it towards me with his full force. I tried to turn away, but it hit me on my face and shoulder, a ragged shard stabbing into my cheek, inches from my eye. I fell to the ground and scuttled backwards, my back up against the wall. Blood trickled down my face. I didn’t wipe it away, hoping it would shock Nigel out of his rage.

  I could see him grabbing onto everything, anything, like he was trying to pull himself back to earth. He started sobbing.

  ‘I don’t like her, Duncan. She’s nasty. You want her to be on our team so you can do it to her. Tell her to go away.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with that, Nigel. Tanya and I are friends, that’s all.’ I kept my voice level and was glad that Nigel was staring at the floor. ‘Look, I need to wash this blood off my face.’

  I went into the bathroom to patch myself up. Nigel didn’t have a first aid kit, so I dabbed my face with toilet tissue until the bleeding slowed, then tore off a corner and laid it over the cut. The blood spread over it and started to harden, but at least it was no longer dripping down my cheek.

  When I went back into the living room Nigel was on his computer, playing a game. I picked up the broken pieces of the printer and put them in a black bin liner I found under the sink. ‘I’ll drop this off in the rubbish bin on my way out. Beyond repair, I’m afraid.’

  I could hear sound effects and explosions coming from Nigel’s game. He twisted his body about in concentration, totally engrossed in the action.

  ‘Goodbye, Nigel. Don’t forget to order another printer. I’ll be going now.’

  He ignored me, so I left and headed back to my flat to assess the damage. Small scar, no problem, it would heal. I slipped a plaster over it.

  * * *

  I worried about Tanya the whole time she was in Moscow. Worried that she would also be found out, and that whoever was behind the threat to me would not be so civil to a Ukrainian national. That the whole thing was a set-up and the story would come crashing around my ears. Worried that even if it all went okay, I’d screw everything up.

  She called me after meeting Mikin, told me it had gone well and they were going to meet again before she left for London so he could brief her on what I should be looking for. She sounded thrilled and excited about her big adventure and I hoped and prayed that I wasn’t putting her in jeopardy.

  ‘So, what was Mikin like?’ was my first question when she returned.

  ‘Impressive intellect. Even more impressive ego. And boy, does he bear a grudge. Want to know what this is all about? He claims he was architect behind strategy to set up Act Now! across Europe as Russian puppet. Now that is done and project has moved into next stage, he’s being sidelined as Kremlin bring in new experts. But Mikin didn’t want to let go, or if he had to, he wanted juicy reward, like being made Russia’s ambassador to the UN, or here in the UK, that sort of thing. When he was told to get back in his box and be policy adviser again, he get pissed off. He say to me if there is no reward for keeping quiet, he want world to know how smart he is.’

  ‘Even if it means destroying his life’s work and risking being caught? He does have an ego.’

  ‘His role is to be guide, not source,’ Tanya explained. ‘He say he never give you any information directly, but will point to right people and right place where you go digging. That way, no one suspects he is guy leaking all the information, they think you are smart journalist. And he has given me this to get started.’

  I opened the file that Tanya handed to me. Documentation on the five Western leaders that had been chosen to run the Act Now! organisation when it was getting started. It was clear that the five countries had been coordinated from the start, the leaders frequently photographed together as they attempted to garner publicity for their new cause. Mikin had also supplied a list of key questions that would pinpoint how they got hold of Russian money for each of their start-ups – the exact sums involved and the payment dates; details of how, when and where the leaders met their Russian sponsors. If only ten per cent of the leads ended in a concrete discovery, this would still blow the story wide open.

  I had worked hard at building bridges with Alex at News Today after the harsh words we exchanged, so when the story that Act Now! stood accused of breaking campaign finance rules broke on the front page of the Chronicle, I readily agreed to be interviewed by Simon Green on the following night’s News Today. Also invited onto the programme was my old nemesis, Damian Zane; it was the first time we had been face-to-face in the studio since I had been outed by him. As we sat across from each other, watching Simon’s report play out on the TV screen in front of us, I braced myself for what was to come.

  Zane’s opening comments were completely unexpected.

  ‘We’ll discuss the contents of your report in a second, Simon,’ he said as Green asked Zane for his reaction to the story. ‘First, I have to deal with the very specific allegations concerning financial irregularities that appeared in the Chronicle this morning, courtesy of Mr Foxe here. I ordered an immediate investigation as soon as I became aware of his allegations and can confirm that payments were made into Act Now!’s bank accounts that match the dates and amounts detailed in the story. The funds originated from foreign nationals, which was not disclosed at the time and which, as you know, is in contravention of UK election law.’

  Zane sat perfectly rigid. He sucked his cheeks in. ‘The funds were accepted on behalf of Act Now! by inexperienced but well-meaning officials within the party in the early days of the its existence, when our oversight and compliance procedures were not as robust as they should have been.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘But none of that is an excuse. The two officials have been expelled from the party and the funds received are being returned to the donors as we speak.’

  ‘Richard Foxe, your reaction to that?’ said Simon Green.

  Bugger. Why couldn’t he have commented himself to give me a few seconds to think?

  ‘I have to say I’m surprised by Damian’s refreshing candour in admitting that what I reported is true,’ I replied. ‘It makes a change from the blanket denials and insults I’m more used to having from him. But he needs to go further and confirm who these foreign nationals were and whether they were acting on behalf of the Russian government. And to tell us what other donations of a similar nature have been received since.’ I was still reeling from the shock of Zane admitting to my claims, and only just managed to have the presence of mind to push home my advantage and try to force further disclosures.

  ‘You’ll understand that I cannot do that,’ Zane replied. ‘These donations were made in good faith, and it is entirely my party’s fault that we did not tell the donors that they could not be accepted without disclosing their identities. They wish to remain anonymous and I have to respect their right to do so. I can, however, confirm they were not Russian nationals and had no connection to the Russian government.’

  ‘None at all?’ I interjected.

  Zane ignored me. ‘I can further announce that I have ordered a full internal audit of our finances to make sure that no other inappropriate funds have found their way into our party’s accounts. And I’d like to thank Richard Foxe for drawing this to our attention.’ He gave me a nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes had the dull opacity of a shark in the deep. ‘We hold ourselves to a higher standard of ethics than the established political parties, and I’m grateful that we have managed to correct this very early, regrettable aberration in our party’s history.’

  I sailed through the rest of the interview in a euphoric daze. Zane must have hated to come clean after all the vitriol he had poured over me in the past. It was the specificity of Mikin’s information that mu
st have nailed him. Vague accusations were one thing, but now that I could point to exactly what and when, there was no room for manoeuvre. He had had no choice but to confess everything. I had hit the first nail into the Act Now! coffin.

  Or so I thought. There was a furore of press coverage on the story after Zane’s admissions, and I could hardly contain my glee as I watched him try to regain some moral high ground with disingenuous attempts at openness and sincerity. But then the first opinion polls since the scandal broke came along, and Act Now!’s lead remained undiminished. Voters apparently were prepared to forgive their early foibles to let them continue their crusade against what they described as the high-handed arrogance of the old political establishment.

  Tanya’s next meeting with Mikin led to the naming and shaming of Russian operatives behind cyber-attacks and the attribution of malware viruses to the Russian software companies that developed them. This story also dominated the news cycle, but was dismissed as the actions of a few self-appointed rogue operatives – and again there was no impact on the polls.

  Mikin followed up by revealing the identities of the elite group of Russian businessmen with close links to the Kremlin who masterminded the troll factories and who the Russian government had rewarded with lucrative business contracts. That had even less impact. Act Now! could easily say that the awarding of contracts to Russian companies inside Russia was a matter for Russia, and that they had no right to comment or become involved.

  The list of revelations from Mikin went on and on. Russian operatives whipping up anti-immigrant sentiment in marginal constituencies; illicit funding of social media campaigns, all with some piece of evidence to back them up. I had a new story every month. There was unwavering accuracy in my predictions, every question I raised pinpointing what rock should be looked under. Mikin was smart; there was a logic to the order in which he revealed things, with each story moving the scandal closer and closer to the Act Now! leaders and their Russian backers. I was shining a spotlight into some unsavoury corners of international politics, and Mikin was right there behind me, making sure it was pointing into the darkest shadows.