‘Shouldn’t we contact the others?’
Levine shook his head, determinedly. ‘I did that last time,’ he said, in admission. ‘We’re not moving.’
‘Holy shit!’ exploded Elliott. ‘The bastard screwed us!’
Inside the embassy, Charlie was conscious of an atmosphere as he waited in the foyer for Cartright to arrive and take him through the admission procedure. When the intelligence Resident reached him, Cartright said: ‘Sorry if I kept you, Charlie. Hell of a flap on at the moment.’
‘What?’ asked Charlie.
‘Had some military people through, on their way to some sort of exercise in Australia. Still not clear yet … only happened about half an hour ago …’
‘Tell me!’ demanded Charlie, shouting.
‘Seems to have blown up, on take-off.’
‘Fuck!’ said Charlie. Where was the perfect planning now? More important, where was Irena Kozlov?
By one o’clock there was still no contact from Kozlov with Room 323 at the Imperial Hotel and Fredericks hurried down to the hotel foyer to use the telephones there, leaving the one Dale was manning unblocked. From then on, the panic rising, he called Yamada, maintaining liaison at the embassy, every five minutes.
‘Still nothing,’ insisted Yamada, at two thirty. ‘Last time I heard from Levine was just before twelve, from the hotel. Said he had Charlie Muffin under wraps.’
‘No problems at all?’
‘Airport and back, obviously just checking arrangements.’
‘But he hadn’t met the woman!’
‘No,’ said Yamada, suppressing the sigh. It had been the same conversation, every time.
‘Kozlov hasn’t shown,’ said Fredericks.
‘You told me already.’
‘So where the hell is he?’ said Fredericks, exasperated.
‘Where the hell is everyone?’ said Yamada. ‘What’s happened?’
It was the question Charlie Muffin was asking himself, in the code room at the British embassy.
Charlie Muffin recognized it was a damage assessment in every definition of the phrase. And he didn’t have a clue how to assess it. Which way – or where – to start, even. The first priority was salvage, to save what he had. And he still had – he hoped – Irena Kozlov. There was insufficient time to try to reach the woman before she caught the train to Osaka. He supposed he could wait and telephone Osaka airport: he knew the flight number and there’d be no risk paging her by her new name. She’d been frightened, Charlie remembered: unwilling at the last moment to let go. Psychologically wrong, then, to attempt any interception and half-thought out rearrangements which might panic her. Which left Hong Kong, where she expected to be met by a man named Anthony Sampson and a military aircraft. And wasn’t going to encounter either. Thank God for insurance, thought Charlie, sighing with relief as Harry Lu replied on the second ring.
‘Hoping to hear from you Charlie!’ greeted the man. His voice caught at the end and the sentence finished in a wheezing cough. ‘How’s business?’ he picked up.
‘Problems,’ admitted Charlie, at once.
‘Serious?’ asked Lu.
‘Danger to a whole contract,’ said Charlie. ‘Someone’s intercepted some samples. Damaged a whole shipment.’
‘What can I do?’ said Lu.
Praise be for true professionals, thought Charlie. He said: ‘Got a sales person coming in. Rose Adams. Expecting a buyer who won’t be able to make it.’
‘Like me to pick her up instead?’ anticipated the man.
‘And keep her from any rival buyers,’ said Charlie. ‘Japanese Airline’s flight 208.’
‘This sales person, she know the name of the buyer?’
‘Sampson,’ said Charlie. ‘Anthony Sampson.’
‘Met before?’
‘No.’
‘She likely to be disappointed?’
‘She was expecting an immediate onward transhipment,’ said Charlie. ‘Likely to be very unhappy.’
‘I understand,’ said Lu, who did. ‘Anyone else from the firm coming to sort it all out?’
‘Getting there myself as soon as possible,’ announced Charlie. He paused and said: ‘Transportation still reliable, in Hong Kong?’
‘Same service as before,’ assured the other man.
‘I remember,’ said Charlie. ‘Apologize to her for me, will you? Make it very clear that she hasn’t lost the business …’ He hesitated, then added: ‘Tell her everything here is fine.’ She’d need the assurance, confronted with the uncertainty of not being met by whom she expected.
‘Will do,’ undertook Lu.
‘There might be some other determined buyers,’ warned Charlie.
‘Business is tough all over.’
‘This is very tough,’ insisted Charlie. He said: ‘It’s good to be working with you again.’
‘Like it to happen more often,’ said Lu, making clear the expected return.
‘I’ll see it does,’ promised Charlie. Another undertaking not backed by authority, he realized. If Harry Lu stood in for him until he was able to get to Hong Kong, Charlie determined to oppose Harkness any way that was necessary to resolve the nonsense of fictitious expenses claims and get Harry Lu back on a London retainer.
Charlie was connected as quickly to General Sir Alistair Wilson in London and, assured of a secure line, did not have to go through the confusing ambiguity of Hong Kong. The Director listened without any interruption until Charlie had clearly finished and said: ‘The Americans did that!’
‘It couldn’t have been anyone else,’ said Charlie. ‘I led them out this morning, intentionally to confuse.’
‘Bastards!’ said Wilson. Continuing, his voice becoming strangely soft, the man said: ‘I don’t like losing soldiers, Charlie. Don’t like losing anyone, but soldiers least of all.’
‘I didn’t have any alternative to bringing Harry Lu in,’ said Charlie. People had been prepared to lose him enough times.
‘I accept that,’ said Wilson. ‘You be able to get there tonight?’
‘Yes,’ assured Charlie.
‘What about another squad, to Hong Kong?’
‘Let’s first make sure there’s a reason for their flying out,’ said Charlie.
‘You think you might have lost her?’
‘I don’t know enough to think anything at the moment,’ said Charlie.
‘No proof, about the plane then?’
‘There wouldn’t be, would there?’
‘Bastards,’ said Wilson again. There was a long pause and then he said: ‘Imagine being prepared to kill that many people, just to seal an escape route!’
‘Maybe I didn’t think dirty enough,’ conceded Charlie, recalling the other man’s remark at the London briefing.
‘I’ll still go along with it,’ said Wilson, more to himself than to Charlie. ‘I’ll wait until that first joint meeting,
