Bomb Grade (15 page)

Aleksai
was
a consummate lover. Natalia couldn't remember a time when he'd failed her and often, like now, there was surprise as well as excitement because lovemaking to Aleksai was a complete pleasure to which he gave himself completely, arousing her to total abandonment. He loved her with his mouth and she loved him the same way and when she tried to pull him into her he held back until she mewed with frustration and slapped at him, hard, and said she was coming but still he refused. When he did, finally, she exploded almost at once and he did as well but he didn't stop and she came again and then clung to him, exhausted, panting ‘bastard' over and over again into his ear, slapping him again, although not so hard, when he laughed back at her.

They slept as they lay and Natalia would have missed the meeting with Oskin entirely if Popov hadn't awakened her. As it was, she had to hurry to bath and repair her love-bedraggled hair. In the reflection of the mirror when she was doing that she saw Popov check the clip of the Markarov and settle the gun comfortably in the rear waistband of his trousers. She thought the gun looked enormous and felt another flicker of fear.

Popov became aware of her attention and looked back at her, in the mirror. ‘It's best. Just a precaution. Nothing's going to happen.'

‘If you say so.' Natalia was authorized to carry a weapon but had never done so and was glad her rank had for years now freed her going through the once-required range practice. She'd hated the noise and the weight of a pistol she could never hold properly or fire without squinting her eyes closed at the trigger pull, so that her score rate had always been appalling.

The restaurant was virtually in the shadow of the Uspenskii cathedral and their last three or four hundred metres were slowed by people making their way to the evening service. Natalia, who had followed her religion even under communism, hoped she would have time to go there before returning to Moscow.

Popov parked some way away, although there was space far closer, and further bewildered her by fully circling the square and even stopping to look into the window of a hunting equipment shop instead of going directly into the restaurant. Which was unexpectedly good, an ancient lopsided and crannied place with a main eating area dominated by a huge central fireplace open on both sides with the chimney mouth hung with hooks and grids to smoke the meat and fish.

They were late because of the straggled churchgoers and their meandering approach but Nikolai Oskin was not there. Their reservation was at a corner table furthest from the main door. Popov ordered a flask of vodka for himself and Georgian wine for Natalia and told the waiter they'd delay ordering because there was a possibility of their being joined by someone else.

‘Possibility?' queried Natalia.

‘Oskin won't come if he thinks we were under any sort of special attention.'

‘He was watching us?'

Popov nodded. ‘There's a public kiosk near the hotel. If he doesn't show up tonight he'll phone there at eleven tomorrow.'

Natalia didn't smile, like she had at the criss-crossed map to account for his being a mining engineer. For several moments she stared fixedly at the door, at people following them in. ‘Where was he?'

Popov shrugged. ‘I don't know.'

‘How do we know he isn't being watched? He's far more likely to attract attention than us, isn't he?'

‘We don't. And yes he is. All this is for his benefit – and peace of mind – not ours.'

‘But if he doesn't come it means …'

‘… Nothing. He and I have been very careful: had our meetings like this all the time. So I'm absolutely sure no one has linked us, in any way. If he imagines anyone outside that's exactly what it will be, imagination …' He smiled, sadly, at her seriousness. ‘We'll laugh about it when it's all over. But at the moment it's got to be done his way. Their way.'

It was a further thirty minutes before Nikolai Oskin came into the restaurant. He remained unmoving just inside the door and Popov's warning touch upon her arm enabled Natalia to study the man. He was extremely short and his fatness made him appear even smaller. Oskin's approach, having located them, was a strut of quick, jerky steps. He wore civilian clothes, of course. The suit had no tailored crease but was bagged and shiny from wear and neglect. The shirt was reasonably clean but did not appear to have been ironed. Natalia tried to remember the man from his Moscow headquarters posting but couldn't, although she knew from his personnel records, which she'd read before coming to Kirov, that he had served at Ulitza Zhitnaya until eighteen months earlier. He stood politely and virtually to attention during Popov's introduction and appeared surprised when Natalia offered her hand. It was only when she did so that Natalia realized he was deferring to her with the respect befitting the absolute head of his department. He sat, at her invitation, and accepted the vodka Popov offered. They did not attempt any conversation until they had ordered. Natalia disinterestedly chose quail, without any appetite.

‘No trouble, then?' opened Popov.

‘I don't think so,' said Oskin. Then, hurriedly, ‘No. None at all. I made sure.'

Natalia wondered if he normally spoke in such a high-pitched voice or whether it was another indication of nervousness. He wasn't sweating now but as close as he was, Natalia could smell that he had been, very recently. And badly. She moved to speak, stopping just short of referring to her deputy as Aleksai. Instead she said, ‘Colonel Popov believes there is going to be a genuine robbery attempt?'

‘There's no doubt,' agreed Oskin, positively. The voice was still high.

‘The man whom Lvov thinks is local, to Kirov? Have you any idea who he is?'

Oskin shook his head. ‘There is one major gang here. Run by a man named Yatisyna, Lev Mikhailovich Yatisyna. If Lvov is right and there is a link with one of the big Moscow Families I think it would be through someone from the Yatisyna group. But it's only my guess.'

‘Does Yatisyna have a record?'

There was another nod. ‘A lot of petty stuff, when he was young. Two more serious charges, of physical assault. Cleared on both occasions. Witnesses were intimidated against giving evidence.'

‘So there are photographs?'

The arrival of their food delayed Oskin's answer. Natalia was conscious of Popov's frown, at her question.

‘The photographs aren't recent,' said Oskin. ‘Eight, maybe nine years ago. That was the last time he was brought in.'

‘Still good enough,' decided Natalia. ‘Let's take them to Lvov tomorrow; photographs of everyone connected with Yatisyna, in fact. He might be able to identify someone.' Natalia went through the pretence of eating, rearranging the food on her plate. It looked very good. She wished she was hungry. She was conscious of Oskin looking towards the door at each new arrival.

‘What are we going to do?' demanded Oskin.

‘Stop it!' said Popov. ‘What else?'

‘How?'

‘We don't know yet,' admitted Natalia.

‘With people from Moscow?'

‘Do you think that's necessary?'

Oskin swallowed heavily, clearing a mouth he'd over-filled with pork and red cabbage. ‘Whatever you try to do will leak if you attempt it with local personnel.'

‘I could hand-pick a Moscow squad,' Popov said, to Natalia. ‘It would guarantee security.'

‘When it's all over I want Kirov cleared up! And cleared
out
!' ordered Natalia, looking between the two men.

Oskin finished eating, neatly setting his knife and fork down but staying with his eyes on his half-finished plate. ‘I have a particular request. Something that's very important.' The voice was still high-pitched but practically at a whisper.

‘What?' asked Popov.

‘I believe Lvov. That he and his family will probably be killed, either way. Coming to us … trying to get the people arrested … isn't going to protect him enough. Just as there won't be sufficient protection for me if I take part in whatever operation is mounted …‘

‘You mean you
don't
want to take part?' demanded Natalia.

For the first time Oskin smiled, a sad expression. ‘That wouldn't protect me either. They know here I'm a Militia officer: know nothing could have been set up without my being involved. There'll be retribution afterwards, whatever happens.'

Oskin had a wife and two sons, Natalia remembered, from the personnel file. ‘What then?'

‘A transfer back to Moscow. If I am not withdrawn I shall be killed. My family too. It wouldn't just be the nuclear theft. I'd be blamed for the clean-up you've just ordered.'

Natalia was aware of the enquiring look from Popov. If Lvov were right and there was a Moscow Family as well as a local organized crime group involved then Oskin was hardly going to be any safer back in the capital. She let her mind run on, trying fully to assimilate what she was being told. Which was staggering – still difficult for her totally to believe – even if it were only half true. As it was equally impossible to believe that one provincial region and one provincial capital was unique in the corruption of its law and order mechanism. So there had to be others. Could the rot
really
be so bad? If it were – again, if it were only half true – the bad was inevitably going to overwhelm the good. Resulting in what? Chaos, she supposed: anarchic chaos. Too sweepingly catastrophic, she thought at once, refusing the despair. The situation – of which she still had no definite evidence, just the insistence of one very frightened and possibly paranoid man – in one town couldn't be magnified by any over-active stretch of imagination into applying to a whole country, certainly not a whole country the size of Russia. Neither could, or should, the possibility of an enormous problem be overlooked. So what could she do? Hers was a specific division, in reality quite separate from the regular Militia and other law enforcement organizations, each of which had their own specific directors and chairmen ascending pyramid-fashion to the pinnacle upon which sat the Interior Minister himself. Did she have enough credible authority to emerge beyond her own department to make allegations other directors would inevitably infer to be criticism of their efficient control, organizational ability and honesty, both personal and professional? Natalia didn't know the full answer. What she was sure about, without any doubt whatsoever, was that if she failed with this nuclear investigation, her own efficiency and organizational ability would be so destroyed she wouldn't have any credibility left to achieve anything.

‘Well?' finally prompted Popov, impatiently.

Natalia had been so immersed in her own reflections she momentarily had difficulty refocusing on what Oskin had asked. ‘You'll be moved back to Moscow. You have my word.'

The tiny fat man straightened in his chair, as if relieved of a physical burden. ‘I am not a coward. Or a weak man.'

‘You've proved that already.'

‘It's not easy to be honest in Russia. Much easier to be the other way.'

‘I know that.'

Popov stretched out a reassuring hand to Oskin's shoulder. ‘You see! I told you it would be all right!'

Oskin kept his attention upon the door but did appear to relax, slightly. Natalia decided on the spot to move in a Moscow prevention squad hand-picked by Popov. To prevent any leakage of their movements, they would be helicoptered in at the last moment, although not to the airport. She and Popov would rely upon Oskin to designate somewhere close to the city or even nearer to Kirs itself, further to maintain the element of surprise. Trucks would be sent in advance, again from Moscow, for the final assault, with the helicopters kept on standby for any eventuality. Both men agreed Oskin could safely and without arousing suspicion get to Moscow for the final planning session by Natalia officially summoning him for reassignment talks, which was virtually the truth. Natalia agreed to the man's family accompanying him then, to get them away from the area before the robbery attempt.

Natalia found herself instinctively employing her old debriefing techniques to take Oskin from the very beginning of Lvov's disclosure, letting the man generalize as Popov had earlier generalized but then returning him to points of his story she wanted in more detail, hiding her disappointment at the final awareness that there was little more than what Popov had previously told her.

She didn't have to hide it from Popov. He broke in as soon as Oskin began to repeat himself and Natalia reluctantly agreed they'd taken everything as far as they could, at that stage. The cautious Oskin left first with assurances to provide all the available photographs of the Yatisyna clan before their meeting the following day with Valeri Lvov. With Popov totally familiar with the city, it took the two men only minutes to fix a handover rendezvous.

Natalia accepted there was no reason for both of them to keep it. Popov said it would take him about an hour and Natalia decided to go to the cathedral, briefly shutting herself off from talk of murder and mass slaughter amid the incensed-calm of the baroque and filigreed church. She lit a candle for Sasha and then, upon second thoughts, added one from Popov and another for herself. She prayed for all their safety and for guidance in the immediate weeks to follow and still with time to spare sat half-listening to a black-bearded, black-robed prelate incanting the creed. She actually stayed longer than she should, reluctant to quit a sanctuary in which she felt cocooned and safe from the uncertainties outside.

Popov was already at the hotel when she got back, briefcase between his feet. He started up, the annoyance obvious. Before he could speak she said, ‘I've been to church. Prayed for us.'

Popov, whom she knew had no religion, said curtly, ‘We're going to need more than prayers.'

‘How much stuff did Oskin have?'

‘Enough.'