He walked away and Dillon said, Lets get on with it, Billy. Well take the stairs.
They made it to the room with no trouble, went in quietly and Dillon tried the earpiece again and put his head to the door. There was a murmur of voices.
Levin must still be with him, Dillon said, as he checked his watch. Just after nine. Well have to wait.
For as long as it takes.
Billy lay on the bed, head pillowed on his hands. Dillon sat on the dressing table chair. At half past nine, he checked and still heard voices. Not long after, there was the sound of laughter and then silence and then there were two distinct knocks on the door.
Zubin stood there, undoing his black tie. Ah, Mr. Dillon. Whos your friend?
Salter, Billy said. I look after him when he cant look after himself.
Sorry Im late, as it were, Zubin said. My security man was talking over old times. We were paratroopers together in Chechnya. Not exactly cheek to cheek. I was a captain in those days, he was a lieutenant. Big hero.
We know him well, Billy said.
How well?
Traded shots, Dillon told him. Are we coming in?
Of course. Levins okay in a strange way. He cant take things seriously. Hes an actor.
Where have I heard that before? Billy said. Your new friend here went to RADA.
Zubin positively glowed. My goodness, I am impressed.
Well, dont be, Dillon told him. I was waylaid by the IRA and took to the Theater of the Street, and a bloody awful role it was. Now lets get serious. Do you feel like going for it?
By God, I do. Ive been trapped, forced into another mans skin, my moves monitored, my life. Im a puppet. Volkov pulls my strings, I jump. Im fifty years of age. Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life this way?
I shouldnt imagine so.
But Ive got no choice. In Paris the other year, I couldnt make a break for it because of my mother. I cant try and drop out of things here in London because of my mother. They use her, I know that, but Volkov also knows I would never let her down. You talked earlier of my return to Moscow and you bringing both of us out. Can this be possible?
It could be, but how would your mother feel about it?
Zubin poured a little champagne. For both our sakes and to get us out of this situation, she would come.
Excellent. Read this. Dillon gave him Fergusons letter and poured himself a glass of champagne as well.
Zubin finished and handed him the letter back. Yes, I understand.
Youre sure?
One of my strengths is my ability to retain lines.
Right. Ill just go over it again with you. You return to Moscow on Putins plane tomorrow. Is Levin going with you?
No, he stays here. Im in Volkovs hands. Im put up at my usual hotel, the Excelsior, and the day after tomorrow, I sign the Belov Protocol at the Kremlin.
No, you dont, thats why our timing is so crucial. You leave in Putins plane, and the Royal Air Force courier plane, the Citation X, follows an hour, perhaps two, later. It lands with legitimate documents for the British Embassy, receives legitimate documents for the return journey, which is logged out of Belov Complex at seven-thirty, Russian time. You know Belov Complex?
Of course. I landed there from Station Gorky.
The timing has been chosen because its dark. Well make a quick getaway, and with the extraordinary speed of this plane, we should be out of Russian airspace in thirty minutes.
You say we?
Yes. Two pilots, RAF naturally. Billy here will wear the uniform of an RAF sergeant as steward. I will wear the uniform of a GRU captain, one Igor Levin, complete with paratrooper wings, medals, the lot. You wont be the only one acting.
And youd do this, youd take this chance? My God, if it went wrong, youd be shot or sent to the Gulag.
True, but the simplicity of the whole thing is in its favor. Ill ask you one more time. Will your mother do it? Shell be walking out of her apartment with nothing. All the mementos of a remarkable life gone.
Shell do it for me, and Ill do it for her.
Good. Theres something not mentioned in Fergusons letter.
Whats that?
Once in London, theres your future to think of. Our computer expert has been able to access Belov International bank deposits in London, using your authority. You are, after all, Josef Belov.
How much? Zubin asked.
Twenty million didnt seem unreasonable. I mean, property prices have gone up in the city.
Zubin smiled. I think you could say that will be perfectly satisfactory.
Billy took two things from his pocket, a Colt.25 and a Codex Four. The gun is for obvious emergencies and is silenced. The mobile was specially manufactured for our purposes. It doesnt look like much, but it can go anywhere, do anything; its waterproof and the battery lasts a year. Its programmed. You press the red button and youre through to a guy named Roper. Hell contact us on your behalf. There are one or two extras in the briefcase, just in case.
It is simple. Zubin shook his head. If everything works, it really would be very simple.
At all times, remember you are Josef Belov. In a way, Volkovs created a Frankensteins monster. Only a few important people know your real identity. To everyone else, youre the great man.
I suppose thats right.
Ferguson was telling me that during the Second World War, SOE had someone very like you who impersonated Field Marshal Erwin Rommel on a mission to Jersey in the German-occupied Channel Islands. It was said that what helped him most was discovering that everyone who met him believed he was Rommel, but more importantly, he himself discovered that to be Rommel was to be all-powerful. People automatically obeyed him. You might be surprised how effective that could be.
Ill try to remember it.
Youve been seen on British television already tonight. During the next few hours, itll be the same for the USA, Europe and the Russian Federation. When you get off the plane in Moscow, youll be a star on the level of the President. Everyone will recognize you.
Zubin took a deep breath and pulled himself together. A short run, if were lucky.
And a quick transfer to the West End, Billy said.
Yes, I can see that. I can also see that you gentlemen are putting yourselves in harms way by accompanying me on this affair.
Well, thats the name of the game. Billy shook hands.
Zubin said, Youre not an actor, too, Mr. Salter?
No, Im a gangster, Billy told him.
Good God, Zubin said.
Dillon said, Good-bye, Mr. Zubin. We will see you in Moscow tomorrow night.
You sound certain.
I am. Ill tell your mother why when Im on that plane with her, leaving Moscow. Come on, Billy.
They went out. Dillon locked the connecting doors. The bedclothes, he said.
Billy rumpled them and the pillows.
Just in case a maid looks in, Dillon said, and opened the door. The corridor was silent. Come on, he whispered, and they went down the back stairs beside the lift. They stood on the steps in Park Lane, sheltering from hard, driving rain for a few moments, and tried to flag down a cab.
There were still a few people around from the function, limousines drawing up to collect passengers, and, of all people, Igor Levin emerged and stood on the steps, took out a box of cigarettes and saw them.
Still here, you two? He selected a cigarette and offered them. Russian.
I could see you were a gentleman. Dillon pinched the cardboard expertly and accepted the light offered. He inhaled. Excellent.
Levin said, Only the best.
Back to Moscow for you, old son?
How could I leave you two on the loose? A black Mercedes turned in. Levin opened the main door, sat beside the driver and was driven away.
Now, theres a happy man, Billy said, and at that moment, in response to his raised hand, a cab swerved in.
Afterward, they sat with Ferguson by the fire at his apartment in Cavendish Place and discussed the evening. Ferguson was particularly interested in the incident with Levin.
Why do you think theyre keeping him on here? Dillon asked.
It suits Volkov. Hes smart, clever, ruthless. Doesnt fit the mold of your usual agent.
I reckon its more than that, Billy said. Hes getting at you, General. Its like reminding you that theres nothing you can do about Levin.
You could well be right, young Billy. Ill outplay him on that one, of course.
How?
By you two bringing Max Zubin and his mother out of Russia. He stood up. Ill see you off at Farley tomorrow. Youd better move on. Youll need a good nights sleep.
Outside, another taxi. As it swerved in, Billy said, Well drop you at your place first.
No, you wont, Dillon said. You havent told Harry about this caper, have you? he asked.
No, Billy said. Hed blow his top. I mean, weve done enough in the past, bad things, hard things, but this? One false move in Moscow, Dillon, and its curtains. Theyll swallow us whole.
They got in the back of the cab. Dillon said, Youre right. It could go as smoothly as silk
Or we might end up in deep shit.
Well, if youre worried, Dillon said, maybe it doesnt need the two of us.
Oh, no, you go, I go. I wont have it any other way.
It was late, but there were still a few people in the saloon bar of the Dark Man. Harry was seated in his usual spot in the corner booth, Baxter and Hall hanging around.
Dillon said, Other end of the bar, you two. Billy needs to talk to Harry. Its family. They looked surprised, but went. Okay, tell him. Dillon went to the bar and ordered a large Bushmills.
He drank it down and ordered another, then went back to the booth. Harry looked pale and angry.
This is bleeding enough. Its insane.
No, its important, Harry, its of world importance. I just thought you should know. He patted Billy on the shoulder and swallowed his Bushmills. See you at Farley at eleven oclock, Billy.
He gave Harry a look, turned and went out. At the door, he stood in the porch buttoning his coat against the rain. Harry came up behind him, Joe Baxter at his shoulder.
Did you want a word?
Well leave at ten-thirty tomorrow.
You said eleven.
Yes, well, we all make mistakes. Hes a good kid.
So youre a sentimentalist at heart. Harry shook his hand. Take him home, Joe, and he went back inside.
MOSCOW
13
In the Putin plane, things werent organized the way Air Force One was for the American President. On that famous plane, there was a certain relaxation, a constant coming and going of staff. Even the members of the press on board could circulate to a degree.