Icebreaker

a lengthy run up the slope, swerving among the trees all the way. Yet Paula hardly slowed for anything. Holding the throttle open wide, she took the scooter side on through gaps in the trees, allowing it to ride dangerously, near a forty-five-degree angle on some banks, yet retaining control all the time.

At last she slowed, slewing from left to right at the crest, following what was certainly a natural trail. Then, quite suddenly, two figures rose from the side of the track. His eyes now well adjusted to the night, Bond caught the shapes of machine pistols against the snow.

Paula slowed and stopped, then raised an arm, and Bond found his hand searching for the P7. There was a short, muttered conversation between Paula and the larger of the men, who was dressed in Lapp costume and wore a huge moustache which made him look even more like a brigand. The other was tall and thin, with one of the most evil faces Bond had ever seen – sharp and weasel-like, with small eyes that darted everywhere. For his own sake, Bond hoped Paula had, at last, told him the truth. He wouldn’t have enjoyed finding himself at the mercy of either of these people.

‘They’ve been keeping clear of the two kotas we’ve got up here,’ Paula said, turning her head towards Bond. I’ve got four men in all. Two have gone in at regular intervals, to check the radio equipment and keep the fires going. It seems that all’s safe. The other pair are in the camp now. I’ve said we’ll go straight to the kotas – you’ll want food, and I’ve got to get a message off to Helsinki on the short wave. They’ll relay it to London. Anything you want to tell your boss – M?’

‘Only details of what’s been going on, and where I am. Do we know where von Gloda will head for?’

‘I’ll tell you after I’ve talked to Helsinki,’ she said, gunning the engine.

Bond nodded vigorously. ‘Okay.’ They advanced at a walking pace, the two Lapps taking station ahead and behind them. Bond leaned forward and whispered loudly, ‘Paula, I’ll shoot you where you stand if you’re taking me for a ride.’

‘Shut up and trust me. I’m the only one you can trust out here. Right?’

A few steps out of the woods, perched on the ridge, were two kotas. The reindeer skin which covered their wigwam-like structures loomed dark against the snow. Smoke drifted up from the criss- cross of forked poles at the top. From below, Bond thought, they would be difficult to spot against the tall firs and pines. Paula stopped the Yamaha, and they both dismounted.

‘I’m going to use the radio straight away.’ Paula pointed to the right-hand kota, and Bond could just make out the aerials among the poles at the top. ‘My other two boys are in there. I’ve told Aslu to stay on guard outside.’ She indicated the evil-looking Lapp. ‘Niiles will go with you to the other kota, where there’s food cooking.’

The Lapp with the large moustache – Niiles – grinned, nodding encouragement. His machine pistol pointed towards the ground.

‘Okay, Paula,’ Bond said. The smell of woodsmoke reached him before they got to within six paces of the kota, and Niiles went forward, lifted the hide flap, and peered inside. When he was sure everything was safe, the Lapp waved Bond towards him. Together they entered the kota, and immediately Bond felt his eyes sting as the smoke hit him. He coughed, wiped his eyes and looked around. The thin fog of smoke gradually made its way towards the outlet at the top of the tent. Mingled with it was a strong, pleasant cooking smell, and quickly Bond’s eyes adjusted enough to make out mounds of sleeping bags, blankets and plates carefully stored within the tent.

Niiles put down his weapon and motioned for Bond to sit. He pointed at the pot bubbling over the fire, burning in a square trench cut into the earth. Niiles then touched his mouth. ‘Food.’ He gave a pleased nod. ‘Food. Good. Eat.’

Bond nodded back.

Niiles took a plate and spoon, went to the fire, bent over it and began to fill the plate with what looked like some kind of stew.

The next moment, the Lapp was sprawled, yelling, in the fire. His feet had been kicked from under him. One of the blankets seemed to take on a human shape, but before Bond could retrieve his pistol, Kolya’s voice came quietly from the other side of the fire.

‘Don’t even think of it, James. You’ll be dead before your hand touches the butt.’ He then said something in Finnish to Niiles, who had rolled clear of the fire, and now sat nursing his hand.

‘I should’ve known.’ Bond spoke as quietly as Kolya. ‘It was all too easy. Paula’s certainly led me a dance.’

‘Paula?’ Kolya’s face was clear for a moment in the glare from the fire. ‘I’ve just told this bandit here to pass me his machine pistol. I will kill him if he tries anything. Personally, I’d like to be better armed when Paula comes in here. You see, James, I’m on my own. Outnumbered. But I have friends waiting, and I don’t intend to go back to Moscow empty-handed.’

Half of Bond’s mind began to work on the immediate problem – should he try to warn Paula? How could he deal with Kolya Mosolov, here and now? His eyes moved carefully around the gloomy interior of the kota as Niiles – in a state of some agony – gently pushed the automatic weapon towards Kolya with his foot.

‘From that, I presume you’re taking me with you.’ Bond peered through the haze.

‘That was the deal I had with that Fascist pig, von Gloda.’ Kolya’s laugh was genuine enough. ‘He really thought he could get away with running a Nazi operation from inside the Soviet Union.’

‘Well, he has run it. All his terrorist operations have been successful. He’s used Russian weapons, and now he’s getting out.’

Slowly Kolya shook his head. ‘There is no possible way that von Gloda can get out.’

‘He was taking me. By air. May even have left already.’

‘No. I’ve been watching and listening. His beloved little private jet hasn’t left the runway, and won’t even try to get off before dawn. We have a couple of hours left.’

So, it was now only two hours before dawn. At least Bond now had some idea of time. ‘How can you stop him?’ he asked blandly.

‘It’s already in motion. Von Gloda has a military force on Soviet soil. They will be blasted at dawn. The Red Air Force will turn that bunker into a boiling kettle.’ Kolya’s face changed in the fire glow. ‘Unhappily our base at Blue Hare will also be taken out. An unfortunate error, but it solves all problems.’

Bond thought for a moment. ‘So, you’re going to decimate von Gloda and his whole little army. Breaking your part of the deal, but keeping his?’

‘My dear James – a deal is a deal. Tough, sometimes it doesn’t work out for one of the participants. How could I let you go, my friend? Especially as my department – which you used to know as SMERSH – has tried to catch you off balance for so long. No, my deal with von Gloda has always been slightly one-sided.’

18

THE FENCERS

There was silence for several seconds, then Mosolov spoke a few words to the groaning Niiles.

‘No need to let good food go to waste,’ Kolya Mosolov said softly. ‘I’ve told him to straighten that pot and stir up the fire. I don’t think he’ll try anything stupid. You should know that I have some of my men here, and they’ll already have taken Paula. So, I think the best thing . . .’ He stopped, in mid-sentence, with a sudden intake of breath.

The smoke thickened for a second, then quickly cleared as Niiles urged the fire into flame. Bond saw that Mosolov’s head was being forced back. A hand grasped his hair, while another fist held a glinting reindeer knife across his throat. The fire leaped into life again, and the evil face of Aslu became plainly visible behind Kolya’s shoulder.

‘Sorry, James.’ Paula was just inside the leather flap entrance to the kota, a heavy automatic pistol in her hand. ‘I didn’t want to tell you, but my boys spotted Kolya digging his way in here a couple of hours ago. You were my bait.’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d told me.’ Bond sounded acid. ‘I’m quite used to being a tethered goat.’

‘Again, sorry.’ Paula came right into the kota. ‘We had other problems as well.