Overkill

driving.’

‘That is different. We are unfortunately compelled to purchase cars manufactured in the West for our European embassies. There are always delays, you understand, with obtaining spare parts for Russian-made vehicles. Our Embassies cannot take the risk of having official cars unavailable for prolonged periods. The same applies to our international lorries – we cannot afford to have broken-down vehicles waiting for days or weeks by the roadside.’

‘And the sixteen people?’ the German officer persisted.

‘Simply a coincidence,’ Modin said smoothly. ‘There is a major staff change in progress at our London Embassy.’

‘Why didn’t they fly into London?’

‘For reasons of economy,’ Modin replied. ‘The vehicles were being transported by road, and it seemed foolish to purchase airline tickets when there were empty seats in the cars.’

The German looked steadily at Modin for a minute, then stood up. ‘Very well,’ he said, and handed back the Russian’s diplomatic passport. He had little choice in the matter, and he and Modin both knew it. ‘Proceed,’ he said.

8th Arrondissement, Paris

When the car arrived, the three men climbed into the back seat and Herron instructed the chauffeur just to drive around for a few minutes. As they pulled out into the traffic flow, Herron briefed the SIS officer sitting beside the driver, and then turned to Richter. ‘Right, what do you want done?’

‘At this stage,’ Richter said, ‘I’d just like to get the SAS moving. Can you send a signal from the Embassy to FOE London, attention Director, information SIS and Stirling Lines, requesting the immediate activation of a four- man SAS team. If he’s available, I’d like Captain Colin Dekker to lead it. Detailed tasking and briefing will be carried out in Paris, but the team should prepare weapons and equipment suitable for operations against an armed road convoy. Transport to Paris should be by road, in a civilian vehicle, and preferably a “Q” van.’

The SAS ‘Q’ vans are disguised vehicles, usually Leyland Sherpas or Ford Transits, fitted with uprated suspension systems, highly tuned – and usually very large – engines, long-range tanks and all the rest. They also have hidden compartments for weapons and equipment, and will pass more than a cursory inspection by police or Customs officers. The disguises are many and varied, everything from a church minibus to a builder’s van.

‘Two questions,’ the SIS officer said. ‘What classification and precedence for the signal, and what rendezvous point do you want in Paris?’

Richter thought for a moment. ‘The signal should be classified Secret, and the precedence Military Flash. Oh, and could you insert “Operation Overkill” in the subject field. The rendezvous, I think, should be tonight at my accommodation. Yes,’ he said, and smiled. ‘They’ll like this. The rendezvous will be at Davy Crockett Ranch at the Disneyland Paris resort. Include a statement in the signal that I will book accommodation for them there. A party of four, in the name of, oh, “Robbins”.’ Richter gave him the cabin number, on the ‘Cherokee Trail’. ‘Say that the SAS contact point is that cabin, immediately after arrival at the Ranch. Do not,’ Richter added, ‘give my name. Just state that I am their Briefing Officer.’

Westwood smiled at Richter. ‘You’re staying at Disneyland? Now I’ve heard everything.’

He chuckled, and Richter grinned at him. ‘If you were leading a Russian hit team, would you think of looking for me there?’

Westwood’s smile slowly faded. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I guess I wouldn’t.’

Anton Kirov

‘Gibraltar, Gibraltar, this is the motor vessel Anton Kirov. Over.’ The Spetsnaz radio operator adjusted one of the dials on the radio and listened.

‘MV Anton Kirov, this is Gibraltar. Go ahead. Over.’

The voice from the overhead speaker was tinny and slightly distorted, but perfectly understandable.

Petr Zavorin nodded, and the operator replied. ‘Gibraltar, this is the Anton Kirov. We are out of the port of Odessa bound for Tangier with a mixed cargo. We have experienced a small fire in the engine room and we request permission to put in to Gibraltar to effect repairs. Over.’

There was a brief silence before the Gibraltar operator replied. ‘Do you require assistance, Anton Kirov? Over.’

‘Negative, Gibraltar. We will have to replace one fuel pump and some fuel lines, but we do not require any form of assistance. Over.’

‘Wait.’

There was a pause of perhaps two minutes. ‘Anton Kirov, this is Gibraltar. Permission granted. What is your estimate for Gibraltar? Over.’

Zavorin looked at Bondarev.

‘About three hours, unless you want to increase speed.’

Zavorin shook his head. ‘No, we will maintain this speed. Tell them three hours.’

‘Gibraltar, this is the Anton Kirov. We estimate about three hours. Over.’

‘Roger. Proceed to a position one mile west of Gibraltar, hold there and await a harbour tug. You will be berthed at the North Mole. Over.’

‘Thank you, Gibraltar. Out.’ The radio operator removed his headphones and nodded to Zavorin.

‘Excellent,’ Zavorin said. ‘We have just entered the final phase of the operation.’

French Ministry of the Interior, rue des Saussaies, Paris

The car dropped them at the rue des Saussaies, and they walked back to the Ministry, arriving at three. They were again escorted to the conference room, where Lacomte waited expectantly. Miles Turner and the two DST officers were already there, and a minute or so after Richter, Herron and Westwood walked in, four other men entered. Lacomte greeted them somewhat formally, and made the introductions in French and English, then turned to Richter.

‘The Minister is away from Paris this afternoon, but we are expecting him back early this evening. Monsieur Giraud—’ he gestured to the elderly man who had just taken a seat at the head of the table ‘—is the senior adviser to the Minister, your equivalent of a Permanent Under-Secretary of State, and I have explained the situation to him and to his aides. He has discussed the matter with the Minister on a secure telephone line. The Minister has empowered Monsieur Giraud to take decisions on his behalf, as time is short.’ Lacomte paused. ‘The Minister has not decided whether to permit the use of your Special Air Service personnel on French soil, but will leave that decision to Monsieur Giraud. Monsieur Giraud will decide after he has heard your detailed proposals.’

‘I see,’ Richter said, and Tony Herron looked at him. Richter wondered how much of an uphill struggle the afternoon was going to be.

‘Monsieur Giraud,’ Lacomte continued, ‘understands English, but because of the technical nature of this matter he has asked that I translate what you say into French, to avoid any possible misunderstandings.’

And also, Richter thought, to emphasize that they were in France and should therefore, by any Gallic definition, be speaking French.

‘Before we begin,’ said Lacomte, ‘I have one or two questions I would like to ask.’ Richter nodded. ‘We understand that much of the information about this matter has reached you by indirect channels, shall we say, and some of it could be construed as circumstantial. What is the source and grade of your information about the devices on French soil?’

Richter bet that question had come straight from Monsieur Giraud. ‘That information came directly to us from the SVR London rezident, Vladimir Orlov,’ Richter said. ‘The information is assessed in our system as Grade One – that is, one hundred per cent reliable without any possibility of error.’

Lacomte looked at Monsieur Giraud, who nodded. ‘Are you aware that the Russians do not have any diplomatic representation in some of the cities you mentioned? In Nice, for example? Where would they position a weapon?’

‘With respect,’ Richter said, ‘this is just detail. Orlov didn’t know and so couldn’t tell us exactly where any of the devices were positioned, only that they were in place. I imagine that the Russians have set up a front company which has leased a warehouse or an office somewhere, and the weapon will be located in that.’