‘That’s the official story, Harvey, but we’re quite certain he died under interrogation, and we’re satisfied that there’s a link. I can’t give you specifics, but we had an SIS officer close to the centre of the ’bird’s flight-path a week or so earlier, and we guess that the Russians connected that with whatever the hell they’re doing out in the tundra. And your people must know something’s going on up there, otherwise you’d never have flown the Blackbird.’ The American sat silently, sipping his drink and looking anywhere except at Richter. ‘Harvey.’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Harvey, please.’
Sharpe took another drink, mopped his brow again and leant forward. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet Richter had to strain to hear what he was saying. ‘OK, listen to me. We got copies of the films here last week, but they weren’t like the usual stuff out of Keyhole – the KH–12 satellite. These were restricted circulation, Paul. Analysts and Head of Sections only, and a NOFORN caveat. You know what that means?’ Richter nodded. ‘Usually they’re just the usual US/UK EYES ONLY,’ Sharpe said. ‘And we had a specific directive from Langley – no sight, no discussion with any non-US personnel. It’s my job if I tell you, Paul.’
Richter had an idea. ‘Did you ever play charades?’
‘What?’
‘Charades. You know, the parlour game. I’d like to try a variation. I’ll ask the questions, you tell me “yes” or “no”. That’s all, Harvey. “Yes” or “no”. OK?’ Sharpe stared across at Richter. ‘You wouldn’t be telling me, Harvey. I’d be telling you. That’s not a discussion, is it?’
Sharpe shook his head slowly. ‘No, I guess not.’
‘OK. Let’s try it.’
Richter paused and marshalled his thoughts. ‘First,’ he said, ‘you know we’ve got copies of the films?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’ve noticed some vehicular concentrations in one area. Is that important?’ The American nodded. ‘Are the Russians building something there?’
Sharpe smiled for the first time. ‘No, they’re not.’
The way he said it made it obvious to Richter that he was way off beam. ‘Were they destroying something?’
Sharpe nodded slightly. ‘Yes.’
‘Something new?’
‘No, very old.’ He leant forward again. ‘And I do mean very old.’
‘What – pre-war?’
His reply staggered Richter.
‘No,’ Sharpe said. ‘Pre-Christian.’
‘What?’
Sharpe shook his head. Richter thought for a few moments, then continued. ‘Was what they destroyed important?’
‘Completely worthless.’
Richter sat back. He hadn’t expected answers like that. ‘Do the films show this thing before they destroyed it?’
‘Which films?’
‘The ones from the Blackbird.’
‘No.’
‘What about the Keyhole satellite pictures? We have some taken about a month ago. Do they show it?’
‘Yes.’
Richter was getting very confused. ‘I’m getting lost, Harvey. The Russians have destroyed something that was over two thousand years old, but of no value whatsoever, miles out in the tundra, and for that the Company pulled a Blackbird out of retirement at Beale and flew it over the CIS?’
Sharpe nodded. ‘Think laterally, Paul. There are two components to this equation, and you’ve only asked about one of them. Look at the films you’ve got, but don’t look for something that’s there – look for something that isn’t there. I can’t say any more.’
Sharpe stood up, and a final thought struck Richter. ‘We didn’t receive any data from the radiation detectors on the Blackbird, Harvey. Is that important?’ Sharpe nodded. ‘Do they show a high level of radiation?’ Sharpe shook his head. ‘Do they show any radiation?’
‘No.’ The American leaned forward and almost whispered. ‘Normal background radiation only. Nothing else. Remember that – nothing else.’ He eased his way out of the corner. ‘That’s it. I’m going home. Good luck, and remember, you didn’t get it from me.’
Richter sat there, lost in thought, as the American pushed his way through the crowd towards the door.
Chapter Eleven
Thursday
The following morning Richter saw Simpson again. Simpson didn’t understood what Harvey had been driving at, which wasn’t surprising because Richter didn’t understand it either, and he was the one trying to explain it.
‘Who is this guy?’
Richter shook his head. ‘I protect my sources. He’s an analyst with CIA London, and that’s all I’ll tell you.’
‘But he knows what he’s talking about?’
‘Yes. Definitely.’
‘And the films are significant – they do show something?’
‘Yes – or rather, they don’t show something, and that’s what my source told me we should look for.’
‘Don’t confuse me any more. I’ll contact JARIC and tell them we’re coming up.’
‘We?’ Richter asked, surprised.
Simpson smiled slightly. ‘I do get out of this office sometimes, Richter. Yes, we’ll visit the Crabs and see these films. Ring the Pool and tell them we’ll be taking the Jaguar.’
‘Anything yet from that Taylor character?’ John West-wood asked, as the two men entered the secure briefing room.
‘Nope,’ Roger Abrahams replied. ‘Don’t forget it’ll take him a while to talk his bosses into letting us access any source they’ve got.’
‘If at all.’
Abrahams nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘If at all.’
‘What have you got now?’ Westwood asked.
‘Langley came through with some new data on the secure link. You saw the preliminary report on the Blackbird films and detectors?’
‘Yes,’ Westwood nodded. ‘Just before I left.’
‘Well,’ said Abrahams, ‘the Langley in-house experts have gone through the films and the seismic records again. I think you said the preliminary assessment was that it was a weapon in the five-megaton range?’
‘About that, yes.’
‘OK,’ Abrahams said. ‘They’ve had to re-think it a bit. Further analysis of the seismic records suggest that the detonation was actually about six or seven megatons. What is troubling everyone is that any radiation that was produced had to have been real short-term stuff, because the detector records on the Blackbird showed no significant radiation. That means that either it’s a radiation-free nuclear weapon, which as far as we know is impossible, or the radiation it produces dissipates astonishingly quickly. So whatever this device is, it’s brand new.
