Comrade Charlie

been consumed with her staying with him he hadn’t given any thought to the mechanics of achieving it. He said: ‘I’ll need to think. To sort it out.’

‘It can work, can’t it?’ Natalia demanded, doubtful herself now.

‘Of course it can,’ said Charlie encouragingly.

‘We are going to be happy, aren’t we?’

Charlie leaned across the narrow space separating them and pulled her to him, on the bed. ‘I don’t have to tell you that.’

‘I want to hear you say it.’

‘We’re going to be happy,’ said Charlie obediently. ‘It’s going to be difficult and involve a lot of adjustments and there are going to be disputes and arguments but mostly we’re going to be happy.’

‘I know that,’ said Natalia. ‘I’m prepared for it: all of it.’

Was she, wondered Charlie. He said: ‘How closely are you watched?’

Natalia hesitated. ‘Fairly closely,’ she conceded. She felt enormous relief at having committed herself. And anxiety, too. Anxiousness to do it: positively to flee and set up home with him. For the first time Natalia realized that in Moscow she’d never thought of their relationship as being properly settled and established: that it was as transitory as it had proved to be.

‘Is there the possibility of your getting away from the group to be completely by yourself?’

Again there was not an immediate reply. Then she said: ‘I’ve never actually tried it, not here. On the other trips there were shopping expeditions but everyone had to go in parties of three or four. And there always seemed to be someone from the local embassy, ostensibly to help with any language difficulties.’

‘When do you think you’ll have most time?’

Natalia considered once more. Then she said: ‘Towards the end, I suppose. The days we go to the air show are fairly regimented.’

‘What about feigning illness? Staying behind one day?’

She shook her head at once. ‘They’d call the embassy doctor. Even if I managed to fool him someone from the embassy would stay with me. I might attract attention to myself, trying to do that.’

‘The end then,’ agreed Charlie.

‘How will we do it?’

Something else he had not properly formulated in his mind. ‘The simpler the better,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ll fix it.’

‘Take me to bed, Charlie.’

He did and it was better than before because neither of them was as anxious to prove anything. Afterwards Charlie said: ‘In a few days we’ll be together all the time.’

Beside him he felt Natalia suddenly shiver, as if she were cold. She said: ‘Make it happen: please make it happen.’

Richard Harkness’ emotions were mixed. There was immense satisfaction, at being named controller of the special, inter-agency task force to combat whatever the Soviets were evolving, because he saw that as the surest indicator yet of his inevitably getting the permanent, more important appointment. But there was also some caution. There unquestionably was an operation under way and they had cable exchanges to prove it. But not the slightest evidence yet what it was. Which created the dilemma for Harkness. Precisely because his task force was inter-agency whatever he did now would make him the focus of those agencies, particularly Ml5 who would regard the matter rightfully theirs as internal counter-intelligence and resent his usurping their authority and responsibility. If he got it right – he had to get it right – the prestige and the accolades would be his. But if there were a mistake and things went wrong, the backbiting and sniping would start at once, ridiculing and denigrating him. So as well as being a satisfied man Richard Harkness was a worried one.

Within an hour of his return from the Joint Intelligence Committee meeting at which the task force had been created with him in charge Harkness summoned Witherspoon, who immediately responded with congratulations, through which Harkness sat patiently, nodding and smiling. Then he said: ‘But we haven’t got one definite fact to guide us!’

‘Yes we have,’ challenged Witherspoon at once. ‘And so far we’ve overlooked it.’

‘What?’ demanded Harkness. The other man was young, much younger than officers were normally considered for promotion, but Harkness was thinking increasingly of elevating Witherspoon when he himself got the full director generalship. These past few months Witherspoon had proven himself an invaluable sounding board.

‘The embassy itself!’ insisted Witherspoon. ‘That’s where the Moscow messages are going to. And from which they’re being answered.’

‘And upon which there is a permanent watch!’ accepted Harkness.

‘Recorded observation which you’ve now got authority to call for,’ reminded Witherspoon. ‘The surveillance reports could take us to the next link in the chain.’

‘I’ll demand them,’ said Harkness at once. ‘And I want you to take control of the search: it should be fairly concentrated because we’ve got the date of the first intercepted message. There wouldn’t seem to be any point in going back further than that.’

‘Thank you for the confidence,’ said Witherspoon.

‘Still nothing from King William Street?’

Witherspoon shook his head. ‘At least we’ve now got more manpower to carry on the observation.’

‘Visitor and guest,’ mused Harkness. ‘Who’s the visitor and who’s the guest?’

‘And who or what has been reactivated!’ added Witherspoon.

‘That could be another pointer,’ seized Harkness at once. ‘Let’s widen the search of the other agency files. Find out if there’s been an inquiry that ended inconclusively, with no action taken.’

‘What about our own records?’ queried Witherspoon.

‘Yes,’ agreed Harkness, although doubtfully. ‘I suppose we should.’

‘It’ll come,’ said Witherspoon confidently. ‘I’m sure the breakthrough will come.’

Five miles away, in the Kensington safe house, Vitali Losev held the telephone loosely, keeping any impatience from his voice at the repeated and obvious attempt by Henry Blackstone to protract what he was saying and make it sound important.

‘I thought you’d like to know that the American has gone,’ said Blackstone.

‘I do,’ said Losev, forcing the enthusiasm. ‘That’s very useful.’

‘And I’m expecting to hear any day about my reapplication,’ lied Blackstone.

‘I’ve got something to tell you at last,’ announced Losev, following the newly arrived orders from Moscow. ‘You’re going to get your retainer. And soon someone other than myself to deal with. He’ll be known to you as Visitor.’

‘Thank you,’ said Blackstone. ‘For the retainer I mean. Thank you.’

‘We regard you as important,’ mouthed Losev.

‘How will I recognize him, this new man?’

‘I’m coming to explain it to you,’ promised Losev. ‘And you’ll recognize him well enough.’

37

Hubert Witherspoon had begun that evening, within an hour of his briefing from Harkness. And very quickly found that with such extensive facilities at his instant disposal his role as overall coordinator was not going to be as difficult as he’d initially believed it would be. At no time, however, did he imagine the break coming as quickly as it did.

That first night he requisitioned a conference room on the ninth floor, deciding he needed more room than there was in his cramped offices adjoining Charlie’s and because the move brought him closer, with immediate