Part 31 (1/2)
”Yep. I've got it on a computerised map screen. Heading south-west. It's already five miles out from the location I gave you. You want to stay on the air till we see what's happening?”
”Sure. I've got the map in front of me.”
”OK. It's coming up to a place called Vnukovo. Hey wait a minute. That's marked as an airfield.”
”Vnukovo,” I said to Sasha.
”What is it?”
”Main airport for southern departures.”
”Tony,” I said.
”It's Moscow's airport for the south.”
”Then I guess they're putting it on a plane. Target now stationary. Can you organise an intercept?”
”What in the air?”
”No, on the ground.”
”I'll ask.”
I put the question to Sasha. He frowned at the size of the problem, but headed back to the local phone.
”How far are you from that field?” Tony was asking.
”At least an hour. Our Russian contact's phoning the police down there.”
”Target still stationary. If it is Mafia, they'll have a big armed escort round it.”
”Precisely.”
”There's a major highway heading out of the city due southwest. Which side of that is the airfield?”
”Immediately to the north.”
”That's it, then. They're on the field.”
He went quiet for a few moments, then added sharply, ”Signal lost. Wait a minute... no. Confirm signal lost.”
”What does that mean?”
”Most likely they've loaded Orange into a plane. That would mask the transmission. Yep. It's gone dead. I'll come back if we get it again.”
”Thanks, Tony.”
I found Sasha glued to the other phone, talking hard, as if he was having to galv anise the police into action against their inclination. I left him at it, returned to the mess room and called Hereford again.
”Boss,” I said.
”It looks like they're being taken south.”
He already knew that the moving signal had given out at Vnukovo, and had come to the same conclusion.
”What destinations does that place serve?”
”Rostov-on-Don, Sochi, other Black Sea resorts.” I reeled off names that Sasha had told me, and added, ”Word here is that the villains could be Chechens.”
”Who says that?”
”I don't know.. .” I hesitated, suddenly aware that I was on the point of dropping myself in the s.h.i.+t by revealing our partic.i.p.ation in the bust on the flat.
”The idea came from Sasha, our main contact here.”
”Chechnya!” went the CO.
”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. If that's where they're heading, we'd better scrub Berlin and start looking for jumping-off points further south.”
Sasha reappeared, scratching his head.
”Private jet has just made take-off from Vnukovo,” he said.
”Unofficial departure. No clearance from tower no lights, nothing. This can only be Mafia.”
”Can the air force track it?”
He raised both hands in a gesture of helplessness.
”I have pa.s.sed message. But you know, little co-operation between police and armed forces.
”These criminals,” I said.
”D'you think they're Chechens? Is this a reprisal for our raid on the apartment?”
He nodded vigorously.
”I think so. Yes. These Chechens will demand big money for ransom.
”When would you expect them to start?”
”Tomorrow morning.” He looked at his watch.
”This morning -later.”
”Sasha,” I said.
”I'm afraid a couple of guys got killed in the contact on the highway.”