He used no police, no militia. He pulled in all the terrible power of the KGB, found the two men responsible and had them brought before him, looked on their drunken, drug-ravaged faces and knew what he must do.
They could have been charged with several offences including her murder, could have been sent to the Lubianka, but that would have meant trials, paperwork, courts. Instead, he sent for a young lieutenant who had been allocated to him after severe wounds in Afghanistan.
Yuri Ashimov had been born in Siberia. Like Belov, conscription had been the making of him and hed followed a similar route, which had, in the same way, taken him to Afghanistan, a terrible war, but one in which a man like Ashimov could make his mark. He couldnt believe his luck when he was allocated to Belov at Department 3, for Belovs exploits in Kabul had made him a legend.
Yuri Ashimov had been born in Siberia. Like Belov, conscription had been the making of him and hed followed a similar route, which had, in the same way, taken him to Afghanistan, a terrible war, but one in which a man like Ashimov could make his mark. He couldnt believe his luck when he was allocated to Belov at Department 3, for Belovs exploits in Kabul had made him a legend.
Standing before Belovs desk, he could feel the pain, felt it as personally as if this man were a brother.
Major, what would you like me to do?
I will sign an order, releasing these two animals from the Lubianka. There will be no guards, just handcuffs. Then I will wait for them at an appropriate place by the river. I will kill them personally, Yuri. What happens afterward doesnt matter to me. If I have to meet the consequences, I will.
Well, it bothers me, Major. With due respect, Ive no intention of seeing anything bad happen to one of our greatest heroes. Leave it to me, Ill get them released and your name wont be on it.
How will you do that?
I have contacts, Major. And then, you said by the river? Ill bring them to the Gorsky Bridge, take the cuffs off and you can finish them.
You would do that for me?
Of course, Major. It would be an honor.
And so it became a relationship that grew and flourished over the years, and when the government forces collapsed in Afghanistan in 1992, Belov, by then a colonel, and Ashimov, a captain, were among the last to leave, accompanied by another KGB colonel named Putin.
It all seemed to blur around that time, the Chechen Republic declaring independence, the carnage of the civil war, Gorbachev, the USSR ceasing to exist, the wall down in Berlin and then the mad boom years of the Russian Federation and Yeltsin, years that for the strangest of reasons were the making of Josef Belov into one of the greatest oil barons in the world and the creator of Belov International.
As the man responsible for subversive activities in the Western world, for the creation of chaos and uncertainty and fear, the events of 1991 and the first Gulf War had provided Belov with a whole new field of enterprise.
Belov had been active in Northern Ireland for some years, supplying the Provisional IRA with weaponry, linking various dissident elements with Muslim terrorist groups in the Middle East, and so on. An interesting thing about the IRA was that as the momentum of its own struggle had died down, it had left seething discontent among many of its members who, as had been the habit of the Irish over the centuries, then sought service as mercenaries overseas where their skills could be put to good use, money on the counter and where better than the Middle East, particularly Iraq after the war. So Belovs contacts on both sides grew and flourished.
Then, after the roller-coaster years of Boris Yeltsin, everything changed. Privatization of a great deal of the Russian economy became the order of the day, and Belov didnt like it. He preferred order, discipline, a strong hand. Perhaps all the books hed read about Oliver Cromwell had affected him more than hed realized. So he pulled strings and moved to Baghdad, taking Ashimov with him.
It was a turbulent time, Saddam gassing the Kurds and putting down the Shiite rebellion with an iron hand. The country, of course, was suffering economically and not only from the oil embargo, and Belov could see the results. In fact, it got him interested in oil in a way he had never been before.
Sitting on the terrace at the Russian Embassy by the River Tigris having a vodka one evening, he said to Ashimov, now a major, Yuri, have you any concept of the wealth of the oil business in western Siberia? Of the natural gas and coal and some of the richest mineral deposits in the world? Yet little of it is being developed right. Too much government interference. Its a waste, just like whats happening here in Iraq.
I dont know about Siberia, but theres little you can do about it here, Im afraid. If Saddam lives up to form, hes going to end up goading the Yanks and the Brits into another invasion.
You really think he could be that insane?
Absolutely.
Ashimov stood up. Now, if youll excuse me, I have a date. Dinner and possibly dancing at Al Bustan.
Ah, the new GRU girl, the lieutenant?
Greta Novikova. Quite special. Why not join us?
The telephone on the desk rang and Belov answered, then switched into Arabic. He paused, listening, then put the phone down, frowning.
Now, what in the hell does that mean?
Well, I cant comment unless you tell me.
That was the man himself, Saddam. He wants to see me at the presidential palace.
Which one? Ashimov asked dryly.
Belov ignored him. You can forget dinner. Better phone this Greta and cancel. Ill need you with me.
Ashimov was all attention now. Of course, Colonel, at your orders, and he reached for the phone.
They drove through the city in a Range Rover, found a small crowd of people at the presidential palace and a few cars. They paused at the gates, where Belov presented his identity card and they were passed through with an efficiency that indicated they were expected. They stopped at the bottom of the huge steps leading up to the palace.
Belov said to Ashimov, Youre carrying?
He took a Walther from the shoulder holster under his left arm and Ashimov produced a Beretta. Of course.
Belov opened the glove compartment and put the Walther in. And you. If we take the hardware inside, well set every alarm bell in the palace ringing.
They went up the steps to the entrance and found an army colonel waiting impatiently. Colonel Belov, he keeps asking for you. This way. Im Colonel Farouk.
The lighting was subdued, the statues in the marbled corridors only half visible in the dusk. They halted at a beaten copper doorway, a sentry on each side. The colonel went in. A moment later, he came out.
Hell see you now, gentlemen, he said, and leaned forward and murmured in Belovs ear, For the sake of all of us, take care, Colonel. Hes in one of his manic phases. Anything is possible.
He opened the door and ushered them in. Saddam sat behind a huge desk with a shaded light as he looked up from some papers. He wasnt in uniform, and he stood up and came around the desk and spoke in Arabic, extending his hand.
Colonel Belov, good to see you, and who is this?
My aide, Major Yuri Ashimov.
Also of the KGB or the Federal Service of Counterespionage or whatever youre calling it now. Does Department Three no longer exist? I rely on Moscow.
Excellency, you may be sure it still exists for the specific purpose for which it was created, however much our masters juggle around with changes.
Saddams eyes glittered. It was as if he was on something, and he paced around the desk restlessly. Sit down. He gestured to two chairs.
Its good to know you are still operating, Belov. I have always looked on you as a friend, but these days, times are uncertain, the Americans waiting for any excuse to pounce. Ive done everything theyve asked for in the treaty, and what happens? The oil stays in the ground, no way of getting it out. Which was not strictly true, but he carried on. And the exclusion zone, Im constantly harried by their air force.
At that moment, a siren sounded in the distance and the palace was plunged into darkness. He hurried to the great windows and watched as lights turned out in patches.
Curse them. Ive never felt so impotent. And what can I do? He turned, hands wide. Tell me, what can I do?
He was smiling madly, sweat on his face, turned, picked up a vacant chair and hurled it across the room in a rage and then seemed to pull himself together.
But no, Im a poor host. Now what about that? Women or wine? Boring. Action, passion, thats the thing. Tell me, Colonel, did you come in an embassy limousine?
No, Excellency, Major Ashimov drove us here in a Range Rover.
A Range Rover? The lights came on again, extending across the city. Its been a long time since I drove one of those. Im sure youll lend it to me.
Of course, Excellency.
Then lets go, and Saddam led the way out.
It was a fact known only to intimates that he frequently roamed the city late at night, driving himself, often with no guards of any kind, even though Belov had heard that guards did usually attempt to follow him. Farouk was half running to keep up with him as Saddam plowed ahead.
Belov tugged on Ashimovs sleeve and they held back. Hes in one of his mad moods, so we just go with the flow. Anything can happen. Well arm ourselves the moment we get in the Range Rover.
As you say, Colonel.
They passed outside the main door at the top of the steps while Farouk pleaded. Allow me to bring an escort, Excellency, that at least.
Its a shameful thing if I cant drive through my own city without an armed guard. You will wait here.
He started down the steps to the Range Rover, and Belov paused by Farouk. Give me your pistol. Farouk took a Browning from his holster and handed it over. Good. Now, my advice is to follow us at a discreet distance.
In later years, he often wondered whether Saddam had seen himself as the great Caliph Haroun al Rashid in the Baghdad of old, mingling with the common people in disguise by night, but that couldnt be true, for he drove the Range Rover like a madman, scattering the crowd outside the palace, and bouncing three cars out of the way.