Icebreaker

Comrade Mosolov brought some playmates. Six of them. Aslu and Niiles dealt with that little group once they saw Kolya safely tucked away in here. That’s why I’m a free woman and not a KGB prisoner . . .’

‘There are plenty more . . .’ Mosolov began, then thought better of it.

‘Do be careful, Kolya,’ Paula said brightly. ‘That knife Aslu’s holding to your throat’s as sharp as a guillotine. He could sever your head with one well-placed stroke.’ She turned to Niiles and spoke a few rapid words.

A grin crossed the big Lapp’s face, the expression appearing sinister in the flickering firelight. Holding his burned hand with great care, he moved over to Mosolov, took back his own machine pistol, removed the automatic and began to search the Russian.

‘They’re like a couple of kids,’ Paula said. ‘I’ve told them to strip him, take him into the woods and tie him to a tree.’

‘Shouldn’t we keep him with us until the last minute?’ Bond suggested. ‘You say he had men with him . . .’

‘We’ve dealt with them . . .’

‘There could be more. He has an airstrike coming in at dawn. Having already experienced Kolya in action, I don’t fancy letting him out of our sight.’

Paula thought for a moment, then relented, giving new orders to the Lapps. Kolya was silent, almost sullen, as they tied his hands and feet, placed a gag around his mouth and pushed him into the corner of the kota.

Paula gave Bond a nod, directing him towards the exit. Outside, she lowered her voice. ‘You’re right, of course, James. More of his men could still be around; it’s best to keep him here. We’ll only be really safe back in Finland. But . . .’

‘But, like me, you want to see what happens to the Ice Palace.’ Bond smiled.

‘Right,’ she admitted. ‘Once that’s over I think we can turn him loose and let his friends find him – unless you want to take his head back to London.’

Bond said taking Kolya Mosolov all the way with them could prove to be an encumbrance. ‘Better to get rid of him just before we leave’, was his final verdict. In the meantime they had work to do – Paula’s message to Helsinki and Bond’s to M.

In the radio kota Bond began to tap his pockets.

‘Are these what you’re looking for?’ Paula came close to him, holding out the gunmetal cigarette case and his gold lighter.

‘You think of everything.’

‘Maybe I’ll get to prove it later on.’ In spite of the presence of the Lapps in the radio kota, Paula Vacker reached up and kissed Bond gently; then again, with some urgency.

The radio kota contained a powerful short-wave transmitter, with facilities for morse and clear speech. There was also a fast-sending device, allowing a transmission to be taped, and then run through in a fraction of a second, ready for slowing, and decoding, at the other end. These messages often appear as a bleep of static in the earphones of the many listeners who monitor signal traffic.

Bond watched for a few minutes, while Paula organised her own message to Helsinki. There was no doubt in his mind that hers was a thoroughly professional set-up. Paula definitely worked for SUPO – something he should really have known about years ago, considering how far their relationship went back. Already he had asked for her field cryptonym, and was delighted to learn that – for this operation against von Gloda – she was known as Vuobma, the old Lapp word for stockade, or corral, in which reindeer are trapped and herded for breeding.

With all his equipment – except for the Heckler & Koch P7 – either gone, or still in the Saab at the Hotel Revontuli, Bond was without any method of ciphering his signal. While Paula worked at the transmitter, one of the two Lapps who had been in the radio kota for most of the time, stood close to her. The other was sent off to keep a watch on the bunker and its airstrip.

Finally, after a few dud tries, Bond composed a suitable clear-language message, which read:

VIA GCHQ CHELTENHAM TO M STOP ICEBREAKER BROKEN BUT OBJECTIVE SHOULD BE ACHIEVED BY DAWN TODAY STOP RETURNING SOONEST STOP MOST URGENT FLASH REPEAT MOST URGENT GET YOUR BEST BOTTLE OUT OF THE CELLAR STOP I WORK THROUGH VUOBMA ENDS 007.

The 007 would raise some eyebrows, but it could not be helped. His instructions to move the prisoner were fairly obvious. Not the best, but if any NSAA listening post picked up the signal, they presumably already knew where M’s prisoner was being held anyway. This message, if intercepted, would only alert them to the fact that he would be moved. At short notice, and without the facilities, it was the best Bond could do.

When Paula had completed her signal, she took Bond’s piece of paper, added a coding of her own to make certain that it would go on to GCHQ, Cheltenham, via her own Service’s Communications Department, and rattled it off on to tape, before zipping it through the small fast-sending machine.

When all this was done, they held a conference, Bond suggesting how best a continuous watch could be kept on the bunker. The dawn airstrike was uppermost in his mind; after that it would be necessary to get away as quickly as possible, dump Kolya Mosolov, and clear the frontier without undue hazard.

‘Can you find the way back?’ he asked Paula.

‘Blindfold. I’ll give you all the information later, but there’s no problem as far as that’s concerned. Except we’ll have to move from here, then wait to make the crossing as soon as it’s dark enough.’

Through Paula, Bond gave orders for the radio kota to be dismantled and packed away – the four Lapps had their large snow scooters hidden near at hand – and organised periods of rest, with one of the Lapps briefed to rouse them in plenty of time to strike the other kota before dawn.

‘Mosolov’s a liability, whatever,’ he declared. ‘But we’ll have to hang on to him for as long as possible.’

Paula shrugged. ‘Leave it to my Lapps and they’ll take care of Kolya,’ she murmured. But Bond did not want the Russian killed except as a last resort; so the arrangements were made, and the orders given.

While the radio kota was being dismantled, they trudged back to the remaining shelter. A blood-chilling howl was carried on the wind through the trees, long and drawn out, followed by another, similar sound.

‘Wolves,’ Paula said. ‘On the Finnish side, our border patrols have had a bumper year: at least a couple of wolves a week for most of them, and three bears since Christmas. It’s been a particularly hard winter and you mustn’t believe all you hear about wolves not being dangerous. During a bad winter, when food’s scarce, they’ll attack anything: man, woman or child.’

Niiles, his hand bandaged, had already fed Kolya, whom he’d propped in the corner of the kota. Previously, Bond had cautioned Paula that they should not, under any circumstances, discuss plans in front of him. They ignored the Russian, though there was always one armed Lapp near by making certain he was well-guarded.

Niiles’s reindeer stew proved to be delicious, and they ate with enjoyment – the Lapp nodding and smiling at their pleasure. In the short time spent at Paula’s observation post, Bond had acquired a great admiration for her tough resilient Lapp assistants. As they ate, Paula produced a bottle of vodka, and they drank a toast to final success, knocking the little paper cups together and chanting ‘Kippos’, the Finnish equivalent of ‘Cheers’.

After the meal, Paula settled down with Bond in one of the larger sleeping bags. Mosolov seemed to have dozed off, and soon the couple, after several tender embraces, also slept. Eventually, they were wakened by Aslu urgently shaking Bond’s shoulder. Paula was already awake and had been told by Aslu that there was some activity at the bunker. ‘And a good half hour to go before dawn,’ she announced.

‘Right.’ Bond then took charge. The kota would be dismantled here and now, after which one of the Lapps would stay – in the cover of the trees – to guard Mosolov, while the rest could gather at the observation point.

Within five minutes, Paula and Bond had, themselves, joined Niiles who lay among rocks and snow on the rise, scanning the view below through a pair of night glasses. Behind them, Paula’s other Lapps went quietly about the business of striking camp, and Bond glimpsed Kolya being hustled away into the trees – Aslu prodding him along with a submachine gun.