Part 8 (2/2)
”Solve it for me. The Ministry of Arts has put out a story that Kurbsky is somewhere in the depths of the country working on a novel in private. Likewise, the word on Luzhkov and Bounine is that they have been withdrawn from London to work on secret a.s.signments at GRU headquarters.”
”Which means London will need a new Head of Station.”
”That's you,” Putin said. ”I authorized your appointment this morning. Your colleagues will envy you. But you're not there to enjoy yourself, Lermov. You're there to find out what the h.e.l.l has been going on, and that's not all. I also expect you to find a way of ridding ourselves of the curse of Ferguson and company-permanently.”
”I'll do my best,” Lermov told him.
”I expect you to do better than that. I expect you to give me exactly what I'm asking for. But there is no need for you to go to London straightaway. Take your time, use our resources, learn the enemy.”
”Of course,” Lermov said.
”I've arranged for Ivanov to a.s.sist you. He's clever, but also quite ruthless and ambitious, so watch him. If you find him satisfactory, you can take him to London with you.” He took an envelope from his pocket. ”I think you'll find this of great a.s.sistance. Use it well.” He opened the door in the paneling and was gone.
Lermov opened the envelope, took out the letter, and read it. From the Office of the Prime Minister of the Russian Federation at the Kremlin. The bearer of this letter acts with my full authority. All personnel, civil or military, will a.s.sist Colonel Josef Lermov in any way demanded. Signed, Vladimir Putin. From the Office of the Prime Minister of the Russian Federation at the Kremlin. The bearer of this letter acts with my full authority. All personnel, civil or military, will a.s.sist Colonel Josef Lermov in any way demanded. Signed, Vladimir Putin.
The door opened, and Ivanov entered. ”I hope things went well?”
”I think you could say that.” Lermov offered him the letter, which Ivanov read.
”You are are in favor, Colonel.” in favor, Colonel.”
”I've also just been appointed Head of Station for London.” Lermov plucked the letter from Ivanov's hand, put it back in the envelope, and slipped it into a breast pocket.
”The Prime Minister has given me quite straightforward orders,” he continued. ”I am to solve the mystery of Kurbsky, Luzhkov, and Bounine.”
”Is that all?” Ivanov's smile was slightly mocking.
”No, he also expects me to come up with a way of ridding us of what he terms the curse of Ferguson.”
”Oh, dear.” Ivanov sighed. ”Based on past history, I'd say that will prove difficult.”
”Apparently. Meanwhile, I'm going to go over everything again, all the information we have. I'll need a hotel as close as possible to GRU headquarters.”
”There's an old hotel called the Astoria close by, which was taken over especially to accommodate GRU personnel. I'm already billeted there. The limousine we came in is allocated to you. I'm yours to command.”
”Yes, so the Prime Minister said. He also said if you prove satisfactory, I can take you to London. Would you like that?”
”Like it?” Ivanov's eyes sparkled. ”Colonel, five years ago, the GRU sent me there supposedly as a student on a six-months total immersion course in English for foreigners. It was a pure pleasure. I'd be happy to return.”
”Well, let's get started,” Lermov said.
The Astoria was acceptable, far better than most army accommodation. There were individual bedrooms with showers that worked, dull but functional. What had been the restaurant was more like a canteen now and run by the military, and the food was simple and sustaining, as you would expect it to be. In Lermov's case, he had an excellent goulash with a gla.s.s of a rough red wine to wash it down. He sat there, thinking about things over a second gla.s.s, and Ivanov appeared. far better than most army accommodation. There were individual bedrooms with showers that worked, dull but functional. What had been the restaurant was more like a canteen now and run by the military, and the food was simple and sustaining, as you would expect it to be. In Lermov's case, he had an excellent goulash with a gla.s.s of a rough red wine to wash it down. He sat there, thinking about things over a second gla.s.s, and Ivanov appeared.
”Did you want lunch?” Lermov asked.
”I grabbed a couple of sandwiches and went up to headquarters. I've booked us an office for privacy-the main records department is about the size of a cathedral and just as public. Every file there ever was, lines of computers, poor sods in uniform hunched over. It looks like some Stalinist movie.”
”G.o.d forbid,” Lermov said, and stood up. ”Let's get going and see what we can do.”
Ivanov had been right about the central research hall, but it was surprisingly quiet-disciplined, really-the occasional voice in the distance, a constant low hum from the machines. The office was fine, two desks, each with a computer. about the central research hall, but it was surprisingly quiet-disciplined, really-the occasional voice in the distance, a constant low hum from the machines. The office was fine, two desks, each with a computer.
”Most of the data obviously is on computer these days,” Ivanov said. ”Even the old stuff has been transferred, but we can explore original doc.u.ments if we want, it's still stored elsewhere. Now, where do we start?”
”I'm interested by the speed at which events moved. Kurbsky arrives in London, he's received at Holland Park, and then he's out on the street, walking round and speaking to Bounine. Twenty-four hours after that, he's in Mayfair and shooting some Chechnyan named Basayev with whom he's apparently had history. He calls Bounine afterwards, tells him what he's done, and says he's returning to Holland Park. Bounine tells Luzhkov and Luzhkov tells Putin. And then Kurbsky vanishes, and, two days later, so do Luzhkov and Bounine.” Lermov stood, concentrating. ”You have a look at all the traffic to and from the London Emba.s.sy, starting with the Thursday Kurbsky was received and the few days after. Transcripts of every kind. If a conversation looks odd or interesting, listen to the recording.”
”And you?”
”I'm going to find out more about Kurbsky.”
He switched on his computer and went quickly through Kurbsky's life. In January 1989, Kurbsky, aged nineteen, had been staying in London with his aunt Svetlana, a famous Russian actress and defector, when news came of student riots in Moscow, blood on the streets and many dead, amongst them his sister, Tania Kurbsky. Their father, a KGB colonel, had used his influence to have her buried in Minsky Park military cemetery to cover his shame. Apparently too late for her funeral, Alexander Kurbsky's response had been to join the paratroopers in the ranks and go to Afghanistan and then Chechnya, and then Iraq. He'd excelled. Then, Boris Luzhkov had recruited him for his mission to penetrate British intelligence. His bait? That Tania Kurbsky wasn't dead at all but sentenced to life in the worst gulag in Siberia, Station Gorky. If Kurbsky cooperated, his sister would go free.
He sat thinking about it, and then, using GRU operational pa.s.swords, accessed prisoners' lists and files at Station Gorky. When he tapped in the name of Tania Kurbsky, however, the screen said Code 9 Restriction. Code 9 Restriction. He turned to Ivanov, busy at his own computer, and asked, ”What's a Code 9 Restriction?” He turned to Ivanov, busy at his own computer, and asked, ”What's a Code 9 Restriction?”
”Ah, you've got to Tania Kurbsky. I ran into the same roadblock. It means above most secret, which, when I inquired of Major Levin out there in the end office, means you can't have it, whoever you are and whatever it is.”
”We'll see about that. Let's go and have a word.”
Major Levin was impressed enough when faced with a full colonel of GRU to get to his feet. ”Can I a.s.sist in any way, Colonel . . . ?”
”Lermov. I'm engaged in an essential intelligence matter, and my inquiry is blocked by the words Code 9 Restriction. Code 9 Restriction.”
”I'm afraid it would be impossible to help you, Colonel.”
Lermov took the envelope from his pocket, extracted Putin's letter, and pa.s.sed it across. Levin read it, eyes bulging.
”Of course, you could phone through to the Prime Minister's Office in the Kremlin or you could simply unlock the information. Right here on your own screen would do.”
”Of course, sir, I'm most happy to oblige. If you would be kind enough to show me what it is you seek, I can insert the correct pa.s.sword.”
”Excellent.” Lermov turned to Ivanov. ”You will oblige me, Captain? I wouldn't look if I were you, Major.”
Ivanov's fingers flew expertly, the prisoners' lists at Station Gorky appeared with Tania Kurbsky's name, again blocked. Major Levin scribbled a pa.s.sword and pa.s.sed it over, and Ivanov tapped it in. The screen was filled with the sad, haunted face of a wretched woman looking about a hundred years old. It read: ”Tania Kurbsky died of typhoid, aged 28, on March 7, 2000.”
”Have you got what you wanted, gentlemen?” Levin inquired.
”Yes, I think so.”
He got up, and Levin said, ”Is there anything else I can do?”
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