The Memory Trap

wanted to push his 'old friend' in one direction or another, towards a car or a taxi (or, more often, towards a pub and a bar), he had shepherded like a sheep-dog, blocking off every alternative route. But this time he had touched, and it had been fear, not any other virtue (and least of all affection) which had been transmitted through his finger-tips —

He saw them immediately he entered the bar. And a handsome couple they made too, he thought critically, as he passed the red-headed Angus by the door without a second glance. If he had had Faith with him, and they had been strangers, he would have envied their beauty and relative youthfulness while she would have moved on from their good looks to fantasize about their relationship and professions, to no possible purpose.

'Hullo, David.' Mitchell betrayed neither relief not surprise as he stood up. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'No.' For an instant he wondered what Faith would have made of this pair. Then he shook his head, and concentrated on Mary Franklin.

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'You know Miss Franklin, of course,' said Mitchell unnecessarily.

Audley sat down. 'I haven't got much time, Miss Franklin.

Have you any information for me?'

'Dr Audley — ' She had taken her cue from Mitchell, to match his neutral expression. ' — the Russians aren't looking for their man Prusakov anymore. But it looks as though they are definitely concentrating on General Lukianov here in England. The search elsewhere has been either scaled down, or called off altogether.'

'And the various terrorist groups — what about them?'

'They've all gone to ground,' said Mitchell. 'Elsewhere as well as here. But the Israelis have got a maximum alert going.

Also especially here.' He cocked his head at Audley. 'Here's what it's all at, evidently. But we should have guessed that the moment your old buddy Colonel Shapiro buckled on his guns again and rode into town. He used to be the numero uno expert on the KGB and the terrorists in Western Europe in the old days, didn't he? Before he switched back to their Egyptian bureau?'

Trust Mitchell to know it all — and to guess that it wasn't just the old Shapiro-Audley relationship which had brought Jake back to England.

'Have you got anything on Major Richardson?'

Mary Franklin didn't beat about the bush. 'Is he in this area?'

'He may be, Miss Franklin.' He smiled politely at her, but dummy1

then returned to Mitchell. 'What else have you got?'

'What else?' Mitchell gave Mary Franklin a hopeful look.

'You've got that CIA stuff on Kulik and Prusakov, Mary?'

So it was 'Mary' already! But then it would be.

'Nothing very definite.' She wasn't quite ready to be 'Mary'.

'The Americans now think they were both vulnerable to pressure, their Moscow sources say. The sort of pressure General Lukianov may have been able to exert, perhaps —

with the access he had to personnel files.'

'What about the computer angle?' He had to keep faith with Jake. But, after Prusakov's demise, he needed to ginger up his own side.

'Yes.' Mary Franklin let herself be gingered. 'Prusakov was the senior. But Kulik was a real whizz-kid, Dr Audley. And he'd most likely met Prusakov at the joint KGB/GRU

computer seminars they've been having, with the improved systems they've been putting in.' She allowed herself the merest hint of an apologetic smile. Which might be because she incorrectly thought that she was teaching grandfather to suck eggs, but which only made her more beautiful.

'Indeed?' Grandfather nodded encouragingly. But that was as far as Grandfather's word-of-honour would let him go, even in a thousand years — even at the risk of appearing stupid.

'Well, I suppose they must have had plenty of access to information too, then.' He nodded again, including them both. 'And Lukianov?'

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'Not a sign of him, David.' Mitchell shook his head unhappily. 'Kulik and Prusakov were the whizz-kids, like Mary says. And they both had to get out. Although they both also probably wanted to play with more advanced computers as well — ours, but the Americans' even more. And . . .

especially Kulik, I'd guess. Prusakov was more into politics and the good life. And he was the older of the two, with a lot of Brezhnev-era friends who were also being weeded out.' He shook his head again. 'But it's Lukianov who frightens me, David. He sounds like a real tough egg, SAS-style. And I'd feel a lot happier if I knew what sort of deal he's made with the Ay-rabs.'

'Yes. So what about Peter Richardson, Dr Audley?' Having given something, Mary Franklin still wanted more in exchange. But then Peter was her priority, after all: he was why she was here, inconveniently on his back.

Only, things had moved on since she had left London on his tail. Most notably, the CIA had moved like lightning after the Israelis' tip-off, evidently scared enough to hazard one of their Moscow insiders.

''The Americans think' — 'the Americans say'?' He ignored her question. 'What do the Israelis say?'

'They gave us the lead on Prusakov's disppearance from the

'Most Wanted' list, David,' said Mitchell. 'Jaggard's had a meeting with Freyer and Shapiro — a very friendly meeting, by all accounts. And the exchange is 'ongoing', he told Jack.

So everybody's buddy-buddy for once.' A muscle in his cheek dummy1