Part 13 (2/2)
Once over the river it was plain sailing along the south bank.
Ahead of us and to the right, the red stars on the towers of the Kremlin glowed in the sky familiar landmarks already, giving me the comfortable feeling that I was back on ground I knew. In a few seconds we pa.s.sed under the bridge we'd walked across that first night. Having glanced in the mirror to make sure there was only one car behind, I called Rick to say, ”Slowing now, and Whinger dropped our speed to twenty ks so that we could get a look at the pink-and-white gateway and the churchyard.
The drive-past didn't yield much. As Rick had predicted, the tall, elaborate wrought-iron gates were open, and through them we caught a glimpse of a small, low church, set back maybe seventy metres from the road. The light inside the courtyard was exceedingly dim, and we couldn't see details, but I got an impression of ramshackle buildings round the sides, and even some bushes.
”Nice and dark,” commented Whinger.
”Not too tidy, either. Look out, though. Here we are.
The security guards on the Emba.s.sy gate had been briefed to expect us, and let us through without bother. There was a short delay while the Brit guy phoned the duty officer to say we'd arrived: then a message came for us to drive round into the compound. There, an outside light had been switched on, and under it was standing a young-looking fellow with fair hair.
As I jumped out, he came forward.
”Sergeant Major Sharp?
Richard Henshaw.”
We shook hands. I introduced Whinger properly, and the others more sketchily.
”Got some stuff for us, have you?” asked Henshaw.
”Well, it's for ourselves really. I'd just like to be sure it's in safe hands.”
”Of course. Well, here are your keys. You know where to go.
There are two locks on the cellar door. This key's for the central lock, this one for a padlock that goes through a hasp at the bottom corner. But in any case, the compound's fully secure, so I imagine your equipment will be all right. D'you need any help to unload?”
”No, no. We'll be fine, thanks. Is this the only set of keys you have?”
”No, there's a duplicate set as well.”
”Do you mind if I have them too? I'd rather we didn't have anyone else poking around in there.”
”Oh all right.” He looked a bit sniffy, but disappeared briefly inside and came back with another set.
”There you are. I'll leave you to it. As it happens, I'm quite busy.”
”Thanks again, then.”
As soon as he was indoors we opened the up-and-over steel door of the cellar and backed the black Volga to the head of the ramp. There was no point in taking the car down the slope, because the approach, between concrete walls, was too narrow for the rear doors to open more than a few inches and we wouldn't have got the boxes out of the back seat. That meant a short carry, and before we began it I scanned round to make certain we weren't being overlooked. No problems on that score: the high wall of the compound blanked off the view from outside. Rea.s.sured, I said, ”OK, lads. Here we go,” and we set about dumping our lethal load.
When all six cases were stacked, Toad brought out the two Rats, switched them off and slipped them back into their compartments in the SCRs. To put the final touch on our security, we replaced the padlock on the foot of the door with one of our own.
Toad was obviously impressed by the size of the Emba.s.sy buildings, and from the way he started dry-was.h.i.+ng his hands I knew he was coming up with some new idea.
”Now we've got the devices here,” he said, 'hadn't I better stay with them? There must be a spare room I could live in.”
”Not a chance,” I told him.
”The kit'll be fine here. n.o.body can touch it. You're coming back with us.”
The relief of getting the devices off my hands even for the time being made me feel reckless, and I almost went straight into a recce of the churchyard.
”After all,” I said before we reboarded the cars in the emba.s.sy compound, 'we're on the spot.
Why not have a look round?”
It was the ever-observant Rick who stopped me.
”When we drove in, there was a guy hanging around out there on the embankment,” he warned.
”Where?”
”About a hundred metres beyond the entrance. He looked everything like a d.i.c.ker, from the FSB or somewhere.”
”In that case we'll not p.i.s.s about in the area,” I agreed.
”Especially if he's still there when we pull out.”
He was a figure in dark clothes, wearing a cap, leaning out over the river wall as if watching boats go by.
”He's moved this way a bit,” said Rick over the radio.
”But it's the same guy.”
”Right then,” I replied.
”That's it. Next stop Balas.h.i.+t-heap.”
I found it a pleasure to start the course the next morning. Our team had all slept well, and the weather was still fine. Whinger and I had gone for a four-mile run at first light, and after a shower and breakfast I felt in good shape. But above all I was chuffed to get back to our proper role of soldiering, and pa.s.sing some of our skills on to others.
The sight of Anna in her DPMs was enough to put a smile even on Toad's face. I'd arranged with Sasha that all our guys would get an issue of Russian combat kit, so that we blended into the local scenery. Naturally, the garments didn't fit too well; we could disguise short or long sleeves by rolling them up, but the blouses hung away from our waists and the trousers tended to be bulky. Anna's kit, in contrast, was immaculately cut to flatter her slender figure, and looked as though it had been styled by some Western couturier. She wore elegant black boots, a black leather belt that emphasised her narrow waist, and a jaunty peaked cap. Even though she wore no insignia you felt instinctively that she was the senior officer present.
”You got your cars all right?” she asked.
”Yes, thanks. They'll do well.”
”Nothing special, I'm afraid. Not like a couple of BMWs.”
”Oh well they're fine for getting in and out of town.”
I wasn't sure if she knew that we'd already been in to the Emba.s.sy, but I wasn't going to bring the matter up unless she did, so I said nothing on that score and switched to matters about the course.
To open proceedings we got the twenty-four students into the main lecture room and sat them down, while our team lined up across the stage, Sasha hovering at one side. Anna introduced herself to the course, and to the Brits who hadn't met her, with a brief explanation that she came from the FSB and that she had been appointed our liaison officer. I then introduced our lads one by one, using the names they'd chosen to sport on their chest badges. I felt a right p.r.i.c.k saying, ”J7of Rik, vot Dosti ..
This is Rick, this is Dusty,” followed by a couple of words about what each man would be teaching weapons, unarmed combat, explosive entry, house a.s.saults, vehicle drills and so on. When I came to Whinger last, because he was last in the line I asked Anna to explain that Vuinzha was not his proper name but the best approximation we could make of his nickname.
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