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Authors: Brian Freemantle

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BOOK: Bomb Grade
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The argument provided the brief relief to what settled into a mundane round of routine contact with the American, German and Italian embassies and unsuccessful attempts, still with the Ukraine excuse, to contact Aleksai Popov. The only really positive development was Simpson's confirmation from London of the embassy's legal assessment that there was no proper, comprehensive Russian law to enable organized crime groups effectively to be targeted: under communism, the myth had always been that crime did not exist.

With so much time on his hands Charlie allowed the nostalgia of revisiting what had been some of their favourite places when he'd lived in Moscow with Natalia. With the advantage of foreign currency he shopped for food at the free enterprise market on Prospekt Vemadskovo and several times came close to going into the nearby State circus, remembering how much she'd enjoyed a birthday outing there. He subjected his feet to the botanical gardens on Glavnyy Botanichestiy Sad that they'd gone to several times and bench-hopped around the park on Sokol'niki. He had, of course, kept the find-me photograph and studied so hard and so frequently not the baby but the background he'd believed to be her suggested rendezvous that he ended unsure if it was, after all, the spot near the Gagarin memorial on Leninskaya.

Charlie intensely disliked the Lesnaya apartment for which he had fought so hard, feeling like the only bone-clattering ghost in a mausoleum large enough to be the waiting room into the Hereafter. Ironically, its only benefit was the enormous television he ordered from the embassy commissary and upon which he avidly watched the Russian language educational slots, gradually extending his viewing to the more general programmes to tone up his Russian. Apart from which he used Lesnaya like he had the box in Vauxhall, somewhere in which to sleep and shelter from the rain, which was actually becoming more frequent with the approach of autumn.

Otherwise he got out and stayed out as much as possible. Part of the routine was to go early to Morisa Toreza, before most of the embassy staff: in the very beginning he'd tried reversing the tables to get into the inner
rezidentura
to spy upon Bowyer as Bowyer was spying upon him, but it didn't work because none of the keys he had been given opened the necessary drawers. He ignored Nigel Saxon as much as possible, who ignored him in return.

It still meant he was entombed far more than he wanted to be in his catafalque office, wishing there was the diversion of crapping pigeons at which he could fire paper clips. He was actually fashioning the prototype of such a weapon when the telephone rang. He recognized at once the voice of the anonymous woman in Popov's secretariat.

‘The colonel would like a conference on Thursday, at noon,' she announced. ‘It's important.'

Charlie had to wait to be connected to James Kestler. When he was, the American said, ‘That's why you had to hold; she must have called me immediately after you.'

Stanislav Silin supposed they would be using the Ulitza Razina apartment regularly when other robberies were planned after this first one. So he'd have to do something about furnishings and decoration: it offended him to be in surroundings like this. Marina could help. She'd enjoy doing that, like she'd enjoyed working with the interior designers who'd turned the two mansions into far better palaces than they'd been when they were first built. And it would be safe, remain their secret, if Marina was the only other person to know. Although he'd defeated Sobelov's challenge it had still unsettled him. More even: frightened him. The conduit to unlimited nuclear materials and even more unlimited money was his absolute protection. So his knowledge had to remain a total secret and this apartment, where the conduit was to operate, an essential secret with it.

The two arrived on time and together again and on this occasion accepted the offered drink, both choosing genuine imported Scotch whisky, and the one who always did the talking said, obviously rehearsed, ‘We can afford to become accustomed to what we can really afford.'

Taking his cue, Silin slid their respective bank deposit documents to each man. Neither spoke for several moments, clearly overwhelmed by the size of their fortune.

‘Just the beginning,' reminded Silin.

‘Just the beginning,' echoed the spokesman. ‘You've already got buyers?'

‘Of course.'

‘Who?'

There was protection in their not knowing, decided the newly cautious Silin: he himself only knew the nationalities, never the names. He only knew the Iraqi middleman as The Turk. ‘Does it matter?'

‘Not in the slightest,' said the second man. Tapping the bank documents he said, ‘This is all that matters.'

‘How soon should we meet, after the robbery?' asked the first man.

‘How about a month?' suggested the Mafia head.

‘There'll be the rest of the money then?' asked the greedy man.

‘With a deposit slip to prove it,' assured Silin. ‘Will that be too soon to discuss another robbery?'

‘I don't see why it should,' smiled the man.

chapter 12

T
he Interior and Foreign ministers before whom Natalia was summoned separately and then during a following day joint session agreed the political benefits of foreign involvement. Their agreement was, however, weighted with conditions. There were repeated warnings that jurisdiction should be kept strictly separated from foreign observer status and equally positive insistences that while both could participate in final planning, it was out of the question for either to be allowed on the ground at Kirs during the interception.

Natalia led every meeting but ensured she was accompanied to each by Aleksai Popov, to whom she deferred during any operational discussion. But in which he, with equal consideration in front of their superiors, took care to include her as if she was as experienced as he was in practical policing. Natalia was impressed by the speed and comprehension of Popov's organization and knew both ministers were, too. Within a day of their return from Kirov he'd supplemented his personally chosen squad of Militia rapid response commandoes with two platoons of
spetznaz
Special Forces and taken over disused army barracks close to Moscow's Vnukovo airport for cohesive group training. Air Force helicopters arrived the following day, to be assimilated into the planning.

Natalia's pride at the politicians' obvious admiration jerked into immediate alarm when, in answer to a question from Interior Minister Radomir Badim at the joint ministerial session, Popov announced he would be the overall ground commander.

‘There'll be shooting?' she said, when they returned to her office.

‘Almost inevitably, although when they realize what they're up against they might just give up. It'll be amateurs against professionals. They'd be annihilated. If they've got any sense they'll realize it.'

‘Where will
you
be?'

Popov frowned. ‘There! That's what I said at the meeting.'

‘I know what you said at the meeting. You could get killed.' Her throat almost blocked at the word.

‘I have to be there.'

‘I don't think you do! Not actually taking part! You're the
director
of operations, not the commander of them. Stopping what's going to happen at Kirs is different! A specialized job for specialized, trained people. Killers in uniform.' She couldn't risk losing him! She'd lost twice, for other reasons, and was determined she wouldn't – couldn't – lose again. She wouldn't get another chance, not with someone as special as Aleksai. Not with anyone.

‘I've done it before,' he reminded, lightly. ‘Do you want to see my medals?'

‘I'm not joking!'

He came around the desk, putting both hands on her shoulders and holding her at arms' length. ‘Hey, calm down.'

‘I won't have you in a war situation!' she said, frightened anger driving the careless exaggeration.

But it wasn't the hyperbole he picked up on. ‘
Won't
?'

‘You heard what I said.'

‘I wish I hadn't.'

Natalia hadn't intended it to become a matter of superior authority, of her rank superseding his; hadn't meant to shout or argue irrationally or create the confrontation building like a wall between them. The only obstruction of rank had been at the beginning, which had held Aleksai back from making the first move until Natalia had agreed to dinner after an embassy reception and accepted a second halting invitation when there wasn't the excuse of an official function to justify it and about which they had often laughed, since. Natalia wondered how long it would take them to laugh about this. ‘I don't want an argument,' she said, willing to retreat.

‘Neither do I.'

‘I can't …' she started badly, changing in mid-sentence. ‘… you can't take the risk. It's ridiculous. Unnecessary.'

‘You're being ridiculous,' he said, openly challenging. ‘It's this conversation that's unnecessary.'

‘I don't want officially to forbid it,' she said, refusing to retreat any further.

‘Then don't.'

‘We should have talked about it!'

‘I didn't think we had to.' Popov smiled, a satisfied expression. ‘This conversation
is
unnecessary. It's already decided: the ministers have approved.'

‘No!' Natalia refused, wishing her voice had not been so loud. ‘
You
decided, without discussing it with me. And then you
announced
it to the ministers.'

Popov had taken his hands from her shoulders some time before. Now he stood looking steadily at her, letting the accusing silence grow ‘To countermand it would completely undermine my position And my authority.'

‘It would do nothing of the sort! There are
two
operations, one at the plant, the other to seize as many of the Yatisyna Family as possible. You're the
controller
of both. If you concentrate on one – the nuclear complex – you neglect the other.'

‘One's more important than the other.'

‘No! I will not undermine your authority; embarrass you in any way. A memorandum of today's meeting has to be prepared, for the understanding between us and the ministers to be confirmed. Mine will state, as you stated, that you will be in overall charge. But from a central command position co-ordinating both separate actions. Which is where, and how, you should be.'

‘Which central command position? Where?'

Natalia didn't know. Desperately she said, ‘Militia headquarters in Kirov.'

‘Which we've already decided to be corrupt and which you have already ordered to be cleared out, the moment this is over. So any security will be breached, before the first move is made against anybody … headquarters in which there are not, to my understanding, electronic or radio facilities adequate for three-way communication between me and the two separate forces.'

‘There would be even less facilities if you were with just one force.' She recognized it was only just an argument.

‘Where then?' he pressed, isolating the weakness.

‘A command helicopter!' she said, recovering. ‘It will have every sort and type of communication equipment and give you complete mobility.'

‘I am asking you not to do this,' said Popov, with quiet forcefulness.

‘I am asking you not to oppose me.'

‘I know why you're saying this. You know I love you, too. And I love you
for
saying it … for wanting to do it. But you're mixing our private lives with what we have to do, officially. And that's wrong.'

He was correct, of course. Not totally but with a stronger argument in his favour than she had in hers. Natalia's awareness did nothing to lessen her determination. ‘I don't want – won't have – you in the middle of a battle.'

‘Regulations permit me to send a separate memorandum to the ministers, protesting your decision.'

‘Which would be you embarrassing yourself. Create uncertainties at the very top, when there's no need and where none exists at the moment. And possibly endanger what we're trying to achieve.'

‘This is wrong, Natalia,' he insisted.

‘It doesn't endanger anything professionally,' she said. ‘Or you, personally.'

Popov left the office tight-lipped and without any talk of that evening, which he rarely did any more unless he was involved in some chess activity that took up a lot of his leisure time. Natalia waited later than she normally did but he did not contact her and when she passed his office the engaged or disengaged slide on the door was marked closed.

The wooden toys Popov had bought her were Sasha's favourite of the moment. She'd taken them to the crèche and unpacked them for a fresh farmyard the moment they got back to the apartment.

‘Ley coming?' asked the child, from the floor. ‘Ley' was the closest she could get to Aleksai. It had been Sasha's choice, getting over their problem of how she should refer to the man whose presence she never questioned.

‘Not tonight.'

‘Why?' Communication with Sasha very much revolved around ‘why?'

‘He has to work.' She wondered if he would send a contrary memorandum. Hers, to the ministers, was marked for a copy to be sent to Popov so courtesy as well as regulations required he should duplicate any protest to her.

‘Why?'

‘He's very busy.'

‘Why?'

‘Because he has to look after a lot of people.' Me most of all, Natalia thought. She wanted to be cared for by Aleksai Popov more than anything else she had ever imagined or dreamed of.

‘Look!' demanded Sasha, proudly.

‘Clever girl!' praised Natalia, scooping Sasha up for her bath but leaving the animals lined up as the child arranged them. Natalia had a vague recollection of Charlie telling her of all the animals of the world being saved from drowning by a vengeful God when they'd once discussed religious mythology, but she couldn't remember enough to turn it into Sasha's bedtime story. It had been right, referring her intention about Charlie and the American to the ministers, although she had been, and still was, totally off-balanced by the dispute that arose after it with Popov. She was quite confident she wouldn't be off-balanced by the outcome of her second decision. She knew she would be quite able, without the slightest nostalgic difficulty, to come face to face again with Charlie Muffin.

BOOK: Bomb Grade
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