‘All done,’ said Angus. ‘By that I mean that Mikhail and Boris both agree with you, over my head I might say, that your solution in dealing with the President is the right one. Here on Craithe the team are not only certain they can pull this off, they also see it as a great move – so much so they’ve started on it right away. As soon as we have the files and put them up onto a website, Mikhail will speak to the President personally – in fact he’s looking forward to that part of it.’
‘Well done. Good job. I’ll pack some of my kit and I’ll be ready to catch any flight to Moscow that I’m told to be on.’
‘Thank you so much, Tom, I was at my wits-end as to what to do.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. I don’t for one minute expect the President to cave in without some other devious move; I’m quite certain, however, that he won’t risk his files and recorded conversations going public, so your family’s safe, at least that’s for sure.’
Perry the Athena team’s leading hacker found the President’s secret files with the assistance of the team at GCHQ – helped by the fact that they had been down this route before. By now the Craithe team and GCHQ had established an excellent working relationship and the diverse talents of the public sector bouncing ideas back and forth with the less inhibited Craithe team quite often produced remarkable results. This exercise to find and then actually copy the President’s files was one of their best collaborations to date.
As soon as he was given the all clear from Craithe, Mikhail rang the President. It was true that they had once been close friends but the President, like so many before him had fallen for the Lord Acton’s dictum – “power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Few would dispute that the President had lost many a good friend as a result – Mikhail Vassilov amongst them.
‘To get through to the President and avoid getting fobbed off by some gatekeeper or courtier, Mikhail feigned ringing the President to warn him that his son-in-law had become deranged because of the threat his wife was under in the Crimea. Mikhail told the gatekeeper that he had got wind of some absolutely horrendous plot being cooked up by his son-in-law which could do inestimable damage to both the President personally and to the country. He was making this call to protect his daughter.
The ruse worked and he was put through directly to the President. Naturally, when he told his story all hell broke loose for a moment. But then the President realized that his secrets might indeed be leaked out onto the internet for all the world to see. It was also explained to him that team doing this would provide the world with a link directly into the Presidents actual files should he be rash enough to try saying that the copied files were not real.
It took but minutes for the President and his closest advisors to realize that he was in no position other than to accept whatever terms the team demanded. It was also agreed that Boreyev and Traynor would meet General Yolkov at the British Embassy in Moscow the following day.
Mikhail, Tatty, the au pair girl Anastasia and little Jerry were sent for in a private Presidential flight with the President’s grateful thanks for exposing a supposedly dangerous plot and were flown back to Moscow.
Boreyev flew back with his people in Mikhail’s private jet to Moscow but before leaving the Crimea he spoke both to Angus again and to Traynor who caught a flight – first class – to Moscow arriving there only a couple of hours after the others. They spent a relaxing evening at Mikhail’s magnificent house and Tatiana was able to have a long chat on the telephone with Angus; he had been told quite firmly that he was not needed over in Moscow as the ordeal was now over and the he might still be needed to use Athena and should therefore remain on Craithe.
On arriving in Moscow for the meeting with General Yolkov the following day, Traynor had insisted he remain independent and returned to a hotel which had been booked for him.
The following morning Boreyev and Traynor met the General at the British Embassy. The General signed a paper on behalf of the President declaring that none of the family or relations of Angus Macrae would ever be harmed by the Russian Federation and Boreyev as security advisor to the family undertook that they would never again pull off such an outrageous stunt against any of the President’s belongings. As soon as it was signed, the Craithe team gave a password to the Kremlin’s IT people which allowed them to find and destroy the website holding copies of the President’s private affairs.
General Yolkov left the Embassy in a jovial mood and, once again Boreyev persuaded Traynor that the matter was now closed and could be forgotten.
That evening Boreyev also persuaded Tom Traynor to relax. He would take him out for a night on the town, show him how Moscow could compete with any other great city in the world for the excellence of its restaurants and, later its nightclubs. Mikhail pleaded old age for not joining them, said he would keep Tatiana company and at eight clock sharp, Boreyev arrived at Traynor’s hotel to start the evening of mild celebration that Dacha incident had ended without tears.
Traynor came down to the lobby but just before they headed for the car, he pulled Boreyev aside.
‘I have to make a call and I need you to hear it so that you know what’s going through my mind,’ he said quietly.
‘Okay, let’s just sit down here in the lobby and do that,’ replied Boreyev.
Traynor then rang Angus Macrae.
As soon as he was through he quickly cut across Macrae’s surprise and chatty reply to the call. ‘I don’t trust General Yolkov one bit and the feeling I used to get just before going on some risky missions in Afghanistan haunt me again now. Did you allow the president’s people to destroy the only copy of all the President’s private files or did you by any chance keep a second batch, that’s to say a spare copy of the whole lot?’
‘It wasn’t by chance, it was on purpose, so yes I still have full copies of the whole lot,’ replied Macrae.
‘Good – just what I needed to hear,’ said Traynor. ‘Now this is vital if you want to see Boris and myself alive again. Call me paranoid if you like but if nothing happens to the two of us, we can all just have a laugh about it when I see you in London tomorrow. If my gut feel that there’s some nasty plot afoot proves to be right, you’re going to have to use the files again to get myself and Borislav out of trouble, are you with me?’
‘I am.’
‘Both your people on Craithe and our friends at GCHQ need to use the technology which we’ve never discussed but I believe you have. It’s the technology that allows you to use a mobile as a listening device whether or not it’s switched on, is that correct?’
‘Correct.’
‘In a minute, I’ll send you Boris’s mobile number and that of General Yolkov. He gave it to me and I used it when we were setting up the meeting earlier at the British Embassy.’
‘Okay, and what do you want me to do?’ asked Macrae.
‘Just all of you keep your ears open. I have a dreadful feeling that something’s going to happen in revenge for embarrassing the president,’ said Traynor.
‘You forget that they will have been listening in on all out telephone conversations. They’ll know that it was my idea to put the President into the excruciatingly difficult position that the found himself in. I hate to think what plans he might have for the two of right now, so I’m relying on you to get us out of a fix if you think we’ve been taken.’
‘Right, I understand.’
‘The only consolation I can see is that Mikhail is too well-known in Russia to be treated in the same way, I reckon the only way the President could deal with him is through one of his show trials.’
‘So, let me see if I have this right,’ said Macrae, ‘we keep a listening watch on your two mobiles and if we have good reason to worry that you’ve been snatched, I’m to contact Yolkov and do what exactly?’
Traynor then carefully spelt out a series of instructions as well as alternatives if what he was suggesting did not work. ‘Don’t worry I’ve got all that,’ he said when Traynor had finished giving him his instruct
ions. ‘Oh, and if you’re not enjoying yourselves too much, give the occasional call to lighten the sometimes boring work of an audio stake-out.’
Chapter 10
8pm Wednesday
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Tversaya Street, Moscow
Traynor’s heightened sense of danger from time spent on dangerous missions was not wrong. Unseen by them, the limousine Boreyev had organized for them for the evening was changed for another whilst he was in the hotel collecting Traynor.
No sooner had the two of them got into it and set off for the restaurant Boreyev had booked for dinner, than the door locks clicked to locked and the car took a left turn where it should have gone right.
‘Goddam,’ said Boreyev, ‘you were right. Both switched on their mobile phones and Traynor pushed his down inside the sock of his right leg. Just then the faint smell of some gas came into the rear compartment. Within seconds both Boris and Tom were unconscious as the limousine sped out of the centre of the city.
Eventually it turned in through large wrought-iron gates and up a drive to a house that resembled a small French Chateau. As soon as it came to a stop, the doors opened and a number of burly security guards wearing gas-masks lifted Boris and Tom out of the car, carried them into the house and downstairs into the basement. They were searched, though Traynor’s mobile was not found, still wedged down inside his sock and on the inside of his left foot.
Both were then given injections and soon began to regain consciousness. They were tied loosely into chairs though there were no bright lights or any sign of torture equipment to be seen. When both were once again fully conscious, General Yolkov entered the room and sauntered over to a chair opposite them. He seated himself comfortably, smiling affably.
‘Well here we are again,’ he said, ‘though this time on Russian soil.’
‘And why are we here?’ asked Boreyev.
‘I think Mr. Traynor here knows the answer to that, don’t you Mr. Traynor?’
‘Yes you’re probably not very happy with my idea of stealing the President’s private files.’
‘You’re right, absolutely outrageous that you could dare to think you could blackmail one of the most powerful people on the planet in this way. It makes a mockery of agreed standards of international diplomacy and the way heads of state behave towards each other. What have you to say to that?’
‘A couple of things, actually,’ said Traynor. ‘Any time now he could become merely a disgraced human being, once he’s been stripped of his of power. Think if you wish of the pitiful sight of Saddam Hussein found crouching, disheveled in a hole in the ground. Where were all his serried rows of medals and golden epaulettes then?’
As a direct reference to the way that General Yolkov frequently liked to dress, it had the desired effect. He leapt to his feet strode forward and lashed Traynor across the face with such force that even for someone as fit as Traynor and with his quick reactions, his jaw was smashed right round till it touched his shoulder.
‘How dare you … you insignificant idiots, you have no idea how …’ blustered Yolkov.
His ranting was interrupted by the ringing of his mobile phone. He looked at the screen but, from the look on his face, it was not a call he was expecting. He grunted and stormed out of the room. As soon as he and the guards had left the room, Boreyev turned to Traynor. ‘I hope you know what the hell you’re doing,’ he said. ‘This is the kind of scenario which, in this country and especially with Yalkov, means that one is never heard of again. No one for example will ever find anything of poor old Bazarov and he’s just one of maybe hundreds who’ve gone that way. Frankly it’s beginning to look as we’re about to join that sorry list.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Traynor. ‘My guess is that just about now General Yolkov has been asked by Angus Macrae if he has an email address to which he can be sent a few attachments.’
Sure enough, about ten minutes later two guards re-entered the room, undid the bindings on their wrists and ankles and politely asked the two of them to come upstairs with them.
There was a strong aroma of freshly made coffee in the room and General Yolkov was back smiling broadly and once again acting the jovial host.
‘Do have a seat gentlemen,’ said Yolkov. Even to those with no training in psychology it was obvious from his body language that the General was in a state of mental trauma. Outwardly he might have looked like some benign uncle, but the twitching fingers entwining with each other and then untwining again as he paced back and forth showed his inner state of mind.
As soon as the two of them had seated themselves on a large comfortable sofa, the general stopped fidgeting, came forward and offered Traynor a cigarette from a beautiful silver cigarette-box which Traynor was sure had been made by the incomparable Faberge. He accepted the cigarette and the light that were proffered – civility returned.
‘I trust you appreciated the email,’ he said to Yalkov.
‘It’s intent, yes,’ said Yalkov. ‘I should have known that the President’s private files would be too valuable for you to destroy. I hope that you will understand, however, that about the only way that I could find out for sure whether or not Mr. Macrae had kept copies of them was to kidnap you to see if he would use them to set you free. Now that we’ve established that he kept them as some kind of insurance policy, I suppose we’re back to where we started are we not?’
Traynor quite liked the inventive way in which the General was attempting to get himself off the hook, so he let it pass. ‘I can understand your need to check that out, General, so no hard feelings. It’s not my position to tell you how Mr. Macrae wishes to proceed from here and I hope that you will understand that I was only doing my job as a mercenary trying to protect my charges. From my point of view, I would want to use your President’s files for one purpose only – and that is as an insurance policy that you will never act in any way but the most courteous manner to Mr. Macrae, his family, his associates and his employees.’
‘Understood and agreed, Mr. Traynor, and may I pay your SAS regiment a compliment for training you so well, you do them proud in your ingenuity. I just hope you can resist using it against us again.’
‘No need to unless you give me cause,’ replied Traynor.
They spent the next half hour or so covering the details of the arrangement that the General had organized to get Traynor flown privately back to the London.
After speaking to Macrae, Kim had flown down to London to join the family and they all stayed at Sir Jeremy Towneley’s house in Eaton Square. When Traynor eventually arrived at the City of London Airport, he took a taxi directly to Sir Jeremy’s house. And, with everyone finally gathered there were glasses raised in a toast or two. These mild celebrations did not last long as the threat to Athena would undoubtedly increase and all of them were just grateful that their ordeals were over.
At one stage Traynor took Macrae to one side.
‘Well, done, I was sorry I had to use such an over-the-top way of getting us out of this mess but a lesser approach might not have worked.’
‘We’re all very grateful that it worked out so well. And it’s a nice feeling having lock on the President as future protection for all of us.’
‘You do realise, don’t you,’ added Traynor, ‘that this whole episode will serve only to push the President to demand that all his people redouble their efforts to find Athena and after the use we’ve just made of it, I have little doubt he’ll want to take it from you and not even leave you a copy of it.’
‘Yes, that makes sense,’ replied Macrae, ‘we’ll need to be extra vigilant over the Easter weekend when we have the Bank of England launch on Good Friday. But after you join us on the Tuesday after that long weekend, we’ll have you to blame if anything like this happens again.’
Chapter 11
Friday 11 March, morning
The Kremlin, Moscow
One of the President’s ways of keeping even his closest confidants and supporters weaker than himself, was t
o pit them against each other. He did this not in a way that would damage effective government but by letting each into secrets to which only they were privy and able to use to their benefit. It was a game which required great skill and a good memory – remembering what he had made privy to whom and who else had been excluded from what. A veritable maze of intrigue.
As a case in point he purposely did not tell Igor Komarov of all the developments of the last few days over the Mikhial Vassilov, Angus Macrae business nor about the Athena theft of his private files. So when Komarov was called to the President’s private apartments at short notice, he was uncertain whether it was to have a Bazarov-like fate spelled out to him or something a bit less frightening.
It would therefore be difficult to describe his feelings when, on being ushered in to see his old friend he was greeted warmly with the diminutive President even reaching up and putting an arm around his shoulders whilst walking him over to a pair of comfortable chairs.
A modern day court eunuch – Komarov even idly wondered if the man was perhaps deaf – poured coffee for them. Shortly after this, however even this servant was dismissed – more or less answering Komarov’s speculation about him. Komarov’s heightened spirits got yet another boost with the President’s next comments.
‘In retrospect, my old friend,’ confided the President, ‘I think I may have treated poor old Bazarov a bit harshly, leading to his illness and withdrawal from many years of valued public service.’
Komarov suppressed a strong urge to burst out laughing – this coming for the man who had had him liquidated. But the was more to come.
‘It is only recently that I have come to realise how difficult it is to hunt down the people he was after. I just wish that, for his sake, he had been more open about his difficulties. Perhaps I could have helped him. I now wish you to divert all your energies to finding and obtaining for us this thing they call Athena.’
The President's Fixer: (A Financial and Conspiracies Thriller – a prequel to the Legacy Thriller Series) Page 9