‘Had to be,’ Callahan muttered. ‘Do we know who’s running the operation?’
‘Yes, we do. Or did. But that’s changed. And before you ask, yes, it’s a reliable source.’
Callahan said, ‘And you’re going to share that with me?’
‘Of course. I’ll send you a report.’
‘Thank you. Hang on – you said there’s been a change.’
‘That’s right. The group responsible for hunting Portman is or was based in the Khoroshyovsky District of Moscow.’
‘Isn’t that GRU Headquarters territory?’
‘Pretty much. You could throw a samovar and hit their front door. The group are not officially connected in any way as far as we can tell, but I’d be surprised if Putin’s fingerprints weren’t all over it.’
Callahan was inclined to agree. He didn’t doubt the Russian president’s willingness to set off a fire-cracker in the intelligence world if he felt the desire. Anything that would portray him in a good light would always be appealing.
Vale continued, ‘I doubt we’ll ever see his signature on an order, but I think we can accept that it was only going to be official if it was successful. In any case the group has been disbanded.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘I use that term with caution, since none of us knows what has happened to them, save that the group’s leader has dropped out of sight and their office is now closed and sealed.’
‘That sounds promising.’
‘I believe it is.’ He shrugged. ‘Either way, the operation against Portman has been terminated. How is he, by the way? Sorry – I should have asked earlier.’
‘He’s fine at the moment and keeping his head down. But Christ, Tom, how do you know all this? Have you got a bug up Putin’s ass or something?’
Vale laughed. ‘Not quite – and that’s definitely not for sharing. All I can say is one of the group members has been reporting back to Putin’s office about the operation, and we were able to tap into the flow. They say the great man himself was kept informed of each stage in the operation but offered no specific input save for using a proxy voice.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘The old clean hands methodology: Putin was aware of what was happening but nobody was going to be able to pin it on him if it all went wrong – which it has. That means anyone who thought he had issued an order was wrong … it was merely a talking point. Our information is that he became displeased with the poor return on investment of the venture and called a halt to further action. He has a notably short fuse regarding failure.’
Callahan waited but Vale didn’t say any more. Instead he looked quietly pleased.
‘You’ve got someone on the inside,’ Callahan said with a mix of accusation and admiration.
‘You know I can’t confirm or deny that, Brian,’ Vale murmured blandly. ‘All I can say is our source is well placed.’
‘So this is not a piece of fancy Moscow misinformation.’
‘Absolutely not. In fact the source suggested we tell you as a matter of urgency, to save any further “unnecessary repercussions”. I think that makes it as pretty near official as we can get.’
‘And Portman’s in the clear?’
Vale winced. ‘As far as any future instructions go, yes … but I think you’ll find it’s too late to stop this operation. I’m told they can’t call back any operatives in the field as they’re observing strict radio silence. Whether he likes it or not, Portman’s now a known face – and a target for anyone seeking to make a name for themselves. It’s a pity because he has been a great asset for both of us. But all good things come to an end.’ He stood up and added, ‘By the way, I know foreign agents operating here are not your main concern, but you’ll have heard of a Russian sleeper named Seraphim?’
Callahan nodded, struggling to get to grips with what to do for Marc Portman. ‘Sure, vaguely. Heard mention of him a few times through inter-agency briefings. But that was a while back. The general view is he was a bogeyman – a bit of Kremlin play-acting to fool us western imperialists into wasting time and energy looking up our own exhausts. The FBI will know more than me. Why do you ask?’
‘We thought the same. All we’d ever picked up was that there was a Moscow sleeper known as Seraphim based in the States but nobody had been able to verify the fact.’
‘And now you have?’
‘We’ve had confirmation that Seraphim is a she, not a he, and goes under the name of someone I think you might have heard of.’
Callahan suddenly knew what was coming. ‘Christ, go on.’
‘Valentina Desayeva.’
‘Jesus.’ Callahan didn’t bother hiding his disgust.
Vale smiled at his reaction. ‘Our source tells us Desayeva’s been playing the double, supposedly running information both ways between here and Moscow, but with her sole focus on pleasing her bosses in Moscow Centre – namely the SVR.’ He studied Callahan’s face before saying, ‘Something tells me this isn’t entirely news to you.’
‘Let’s say I had my suspicions,’ Callahan confirmed sourly. ‘Unfortunately I haven’t been in a position to do much about it. Until now, anyway.’
‘I don’t think you should get your hopes up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ask your friends at the FBI to check. I think they’ll find she’s gone on a long holiday and won’t be coming back.’
After Vale had left, Callahan reflected on what he’d just been told. If it was true – and he’d no reason to doubt Vale’s sources – it meant his early instincts about Desayeva had been right; the State Department had somehow got themselves into bed with a Moscow double, and they hadn’t seen it coming. Or maybe they hadn’t wanted to, being too keen to have a pipeline to and from the Russians to drop information of dubious quality. No matter what value they thought she had provided on Russian thinking and strategy, if Desayeva really had been working for the SVR, Russia’s Foreign
