Run for Home (6 page)

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Authors: Dan Latus

BOOK: Run for Home
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He steered her to a chair and sat down himself.

‘Tell me,’ he said.

She stared bleakly at him.

‘Whatever you have heard,’ he said gently, ‘I’ve done nothing you don’t know about, and nothing you would regard as wrong. As far as I know, that was true of my colleagues, as well.’

He shook his head with exasperation. ‘I haven’t a clue as to what’s been going on.’

Lenka yawned, stretched and leaned forward.

‘Harry, my ministry doesn’t know what is going on either. We are not in the loop. So what I tell you now is more best guess than fact. OK?’

He nodded.

She sighed and said bluntly, ‘We believe your people have done a deal with the Russians. Part of the price was the elimination of your Unit 89.’

He stared at her with astonishment. ‘And that’s it? That’s what you’ve come up with?’

She nodded. ‘Our best guess.’

‘Crap!’ he said angrily. ‘Absolute bloody rubbish! They would never do that.’

‘Not even if the rewards were very high?’

‘Of course not!’

He got up and began to pace around the room. What he’d just said was wrong. He knew that as soon as he’d said it. He had seen the cleaners at the safe house. They had followed him to Orkney, for God’s sake! Not to mention what they’d done to Cally – and his bloody caravan!

She could be right.

He leaned against a blank wall. He pressed his face against the cool whiteness and let some of the heat drain out of his face.

‘Harry?’

He straightened up and turned around reluctantly. He stared at her and shook his head, more in despair than denial now.

‘This is what we believe,’ Lenka said quietly.

‘What could the UK possibly want from Russia that badly?’

She shook her head. ‘We have no idea. But surely there are many things your country might want? Better relations, for example. Or the return of important prisoners. The release of human rights organizers? I don’t know.’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing like that. It would have to be something urgent and really important. National security, perhaps. Even then. …’

He spun away for a moment and then turned back to her again.

‘It’s difficult for me to see this with your objectivity.’

She nodded. ‘I understand. Perhaps it is not true anyway. It is just our. …’

‘I know. Your best guess.’

She gave a little shrug and looked away, and he wondered
if she was holding something back.

‘What?’ he pressed. ‘What else?’

She turned back to him, her expression blank.

‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’

She nodded. ‘There is, yes. Sit down, Harry – please.’

Reluctantly, he sat down.

With another little shrug, almost an apology, she said, ‘You have a child, Harry.’

His heart began to race. He struggled to keep his own face blank now. ‘A child?’ he said.

She nodded. ‘You and Marika had a baby girl. The child will now be six, or perhaps seven.’

‘Whatever makes you say that?’ he said with a hoarse chuckle.

‘It is on file. Perhaps the file is wrong?’

He said nothing. How did she know? How did
they
know? Even more important, if they knew, who else knew?

‘I believe the file is correct,’ Lenka said matter-of-factly.

Still he said nothing.

‘Perhaps it is not my business,’ Lenka added, getting up. ‘But I must warn you that we believe the child is in danger.’

He got up, too, anguish tearing him apart.

‘No, Harry. You don’t need to say anything now. But think about it. I will return later.’

She delved into her pocket and produced a slip of card, on which she quickly wrote something. ‘Use this number to contact me. It is safe. And you are safe here – for the moment.’

He took it and nodded. ‘Thank you, Lenka.’

‘Remember,’ she said, ‘that Marika was my friend.’

 

Afterwards, he wondered what on earth was going on, and what, if anything, he could do about it. Could Lenka possibly
be right about a deal having been struck? She knew about Lisa, after all. Could she be right about HMG doing a deal with the Russians, as well?

It was possible. He knew that. The killings, and the way he had been pursued, hadn’t left him with many illusions. Somebody was intent on ridding the world of Unit 89.

But Lisa? He frowned. Why would she be in danger?

It was so frustrating. Worse. He had done everything he could to keep Lisa safe. Since the moment she was born, he had always had her safety in mind. He had promised Marika that, and Marika’s death had made him even more careful. Lisa’s very existence had been kept secret. Or so he had thought, until now. What had changed?

When Lenka returned he would have to press her, even though that would mean admitting that he did indeed have a child. Continued denial was no longer a viable option.

Jesus Christ! She knew already. He’d better get real. If Lenka knew, then others knew. Her whole bloody ministry, for a start! And who else besides?

At least they didn’t know where Lisa was.

He thought again. Did they? Sickened, he realized he could no longer be sure, either about that or anything else. His whole world had been turned upside down.

 

There wasn’t much he could do before Lenka returned. But there was one thing: the room had a phone, and he used it. The time had come.

‘Paní Čechová?’

‘Mr Harry!’

‘Hello, Babička! Grandmother! How are you? And how is Lisa?’

‘We are well, thank you. Everything is normal here. Lisa
often asks for you. More and more, she asks for you. Excuse me. I will get her now.’

‘No! Not yet, Babi. One moment, please.’

He closed his eyes with relief. Lisa was well. Nothing had happened.

‘Babička, thank you so much for everything you have done for Lisa. I am so grateful. Marika would be, too. You have been wonderful.’

‘Lisa is my grandchild,’ the old woman said simply.

‘I know, I know, but still. … Babi, has anything unusual happened recently?’

‘I don’t think so,’ she said, sounding puzzled. ‘No, nothing.’

‘That’s good. I don’t want to worry you, but please take care. Now I will speak to Lisa.’

Nothing, he thought with relief, while he waited for Babička to bring his child to the phone. Good so far. But for how much longer?

‘Father!’

‘Lisa!’ He smiled and chuckled. ‘How are you, my dear?’

‘My English language is very good now, I think.’

It all came out in a rush, as if she knew there would not be much time, as usual.

‘And my gymnastics,’ she continued. ‘I play football now, Father. And my teacher says I play the violin nicely.’

‘All that? My! You are doing well. Babička must be making you work very hard, practising all these things.’

‘Yes, she is. Where are you, Father? When can I see you?’

‘Soon, sweetheart.’

How soon?’

‘Very soon. I promise.’

‘You promised last time!’

‘I know, but. …’

‘I want to go to England, Father. I want to be with you again, like it used to be.’

His eyes closed with anguish. Oh, how foolish he had been! Why had he disappointed her for so long? When would it end?

Even now though, there was so little he could say, and mean. He didn’t control his life. He never had done.

He swallowed hard. ‘Lisa, I promise I will come for you very soon. Believe me!’

‘This week?’

‘Maybe next week,’ he said, closing his eyes. ‘I will make it happen.’

And so he would, he thought afterwards. So he bloody well would! There was nothing that mattered more to him now.

 

Lenka returned just after ten that night. He heard her before she reached his door, and was ready waiting for her.

She shrugged and gave him a weary smile as she entered the room. He closed the door and turned to face her.

‘Anything?’ he asked.

She flopped onto the bed and stretched. He waited anxiously. She was very tired. He could see that. But he needed to know.

‘Lenka?’

She sighed and sat upright. ‘Something is happening,’ she said. ‘We don’t know what, but there is unusual activity. People are meeting.’

He waited.

‘Your Mr Simon Mayhew flew into Prague this afternoon, unannounced.’

Harry’s ears pricked up. ‘Mayhew?’

‘Unannounced,’ she repeated for emphasis. ‘He was collected and driven straight to the British Embassy, where he
has remained ever since.’

‘And nothing has been said?’

‘Not to my minister, or to anyone in the department, no.’ She shrugged and added, ‘If we ask, they will say it is unofficial, a private visit. So we don’t ask.’

He moved away from her and turned to the window. He opened it slightly and took a deep breath. It was very dark out there now, and bitterly cold. The weather had changed. Heavy cloud had moved in and there was the smell of snow in the air. It wasn’t here yet, but it was coming; coming from the east. He had experienced it too many times before to be mistaken.

Good times, bad times, he thought wearily, the prevailing wind never let up. Never failed. Things from the east were inexorable, relentless. It had always been like that. Russia could never be discounted.

So. Mayhew was here.

‘What do you make of it?’ he asked, closing the window and turning back to Lenka.

She yawned. ‘Not much, to be honest. But something important is going on.’

He nodded. It must be, if Mayhew had come to Prague. Mayhew was important. He didn’t know what position in the intelligence world he occupied now, but whatever it was, it would be rarefied.

Mayhew had been on the rise for many years, and would have reached some significant summit by now. He had only met the guy once, many years ago, but he remembered him. He had been impressed by his cool, detached air of intelligence and general superiority. Not a man to underestimate, or alienate. They hadn’t got on.

Lenka’s phone vibrated softly. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Then she answered it, and spoke
briefly. When she looked up, she was frowning.

‘Trouble?’

‘Not for me,’ she said quickly. Then she gave him a rueful smile. ‘Sorry.’

He waited.

‘Two of our Russian knowns have just entered the British Embassy. Mayhew is still there.’

‘Oh?’

It seemed to confirm that something big was indeed happening. If it involved Mayhew, it had to be big.

‘All these things must be connected,’ he suggested.

Lenka nodded. ‘That’s the premise we are operating on.’

‘How, though? How are they connected?’

She shook her head and had nothing to add. It was a mystery.

 

So, he wasn’t much further forward, he thought. He knew now that something important was happening, but he had no idea what. And he didn’t know how, or if, it was connected to what had been happening to him.

‘You were going to tell me about your daughter, I think?’ Lenka said quietly.

He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Was I? Was I really?’

‘I think so. It’s time you did, Harry.’

Still he hesitated.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s go downstairs and see if Jan has any food he can offer us. I don’t know about you, but it’s a long time since I last ate.’

He glanced at his watch. Almost with surprise, he noted the time and felt hungry again himself.

‘Sounds good to me,’ he admitted.

‘He is here! I just know it.’

Jackson waited respectfully for the boss to explain and justify his conviction. He caught Murphy’s eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head to keep him quiet. The last thing he wanted was Murphy complaining about being given another runaround. They had a lot riding on this assignment: get it right and they could kiss a lot of things goodbye – including the boss.

‘What? You don’t agree?’

Jackson shrugged and cleared his throat. ‘I have no idea,’ he said, ‘one way or the other.’

The look he got suggested he needed to do better than that.

‘We’ve been chasing around Scottish islands,’ he added. ‘We’re out of touch.’

The boss nodded, and seemed placated. ‘Let me explain my thinking,’ he said. ‘But first, welcome back to Prague.’

‘We like it here,’ Murphy said, unable to stay out of it any longer.

Jackson smiled. ‘What he means,’ he said, ‘is that we didn’t like all that rain they get up there.’

‘Rain? Yes, I suppose they do get rather a lot in Orkney.’

‘And the rest of Scotland,’ Murphy said with a shudder. ‘It’s as bad as Ireland. Worse, in fact.’

‘Quite.’

The boss nodded and waited a moment before he began.

‘Gibson will return to Prague, if he hasn’t already done so, because this city is where his life has been led for many years. He is at home here, a stranger in England, and there is nowhere else he could go.’

It didn’t sound much to Jackson. People running for their life didn’t usually care where they went, as long as they felt safe when they got there. Their man had already been as far as Orkney, for God’s sake!

‘There’s a million people here,’ Murphy pointed out.

‘And time is pressing?’ the boss said. ‘I know, I know. This is no time for the usual search-and-find methods. We must speed things up.’

‘Maybe we should advertise for him to give himself up?’ Murphy suggested, scarcely able to conceal the scorn in his voice.

Jackson winced.

The boss, surprisingly, smiled. Then he removed his glasses to polish them.

‘Not a bad idea,’ he said, like an old-fashioned schoolmaster commending a favourite pupil.

He replaced his glasses and leaned forward.

‘Gentlemen, we haven’t time to look for Gibson. So what we need to do is bring him to us. And I know just how to do that.’

Murphy’s scepticism must have been plain because the boss spoke directly to him now.

‘Believe me,’ he said, ‘I know exactly how we can bring him in.’

It was late and the restaurant was quiet that evening. Jan Klaus pursed his lips in thought when Lenka spoke to him about the possibility of food. Then he disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, a minute or two later, he brought a couple of beers and the advice that he could provide them immediately with
brambora polévka,
potato soup. Otherwise, it would take time.

‘Thank you, Jan,’ Lenka told him gravely. ‘
Polévka
will be perfect. You’re an angel.’

Jan Klaus gave a little bow and Harry was astonished to see that grave face collapse into a thousand laughter lines.

‘He was a friend of my father’s,’ Lenka said when Jan Klaus had disappeared again, ‘back in the old days.’

Before 1989, he knew she meant. Before the Velvet Revolution that had ushered the Communists and Red Army out, and the year that had subsequently given Callerton the name for his new counter-espionage team.

‘This restaurant,’ she added, ‘was one of the places where people like Vaclav Havel and my father used to meet.’

‘To be dissident?’

‘Exactly.’ Lenka gave him a smile. ‘Before the world became new again!’

He smiled himself at that.

‘I’ve made some progress this evening,’ Lenka told him. ‘At least, we now know several of the people involved in the Embassy discussions.’

‘So what are they talking about?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t even know if anyone in my department knows that.’

‘How about your minister?’

She shook her head. ‘He would know only if we were able to tell him.’

‘I wonder why they are meeting here?’ he mused. ‘Because it’s neutral territory?’

‘Perhaps. The Russians do all sorts of things here, as they always did. And President Klaus doesn’t seem to mind too much, if at all. He is very friendly to them these days. Sometimes I think he has forgotten what it was like when they ruled our country.’

Harry nodded and chuckled. ‘My impression is that he thinks he’s above all that – politics. I suppose he is, constitutionally, as head of state. Coalition governments can come and go, but he sees himself as the Great Protector of the Czech Nation.’

‘Something like that,’ Lenka said, putting a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. ‘He’s nothing like Havel, though. Maybe his ideas will work. I don’t know. Tell me about your daughter, Harry.’

The change of tack caught him off guard. He sighed, but he knew he couldn’t put Lenka off any longer, not if he wanted to retain her support.

‘She is called Lisa.’ He shrugged. ‘You were right. She is 7 years old now, and looks exactly how Marika would have looked at that age.’

‘So she is beautiful?’

‘Of course!’ He smiled. ‘Despite her father, she is beautiful. If her mother could see her now, she would be very proud.’

‘Marika’s death was a tragedy,’ Lenka said with a sigh. ‘We still don’t know if that car crash was a genuine accident.’

Or something else, she meant, as some still believed the road crash that had killed poor old Alexander Dubček, the country’s first post-1989 president, had been. But he just nodded. By now it scarcely mattered. Nothing would bring Marika back.

‘Marika wasn’t the only officer we lost in those days,’ Lenka added.

‘Was there a pattern?’

‘Not that we could see.’ She shook her head and asked, ‘Where does Lisa live?’

He squirmed a little over that one. They were getting close to things with the potential to hurt, things that no one at all had been told.

‘I know she isn’t with you,’ Lenka pressed gently.

‘No, she isn’t.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve told no one where she is, deliberately. I’ve kept her out of it.’

‘I understand.’

But things had changed, apparently. Lisa’s existence was known now, at least to some people.

He shrugged. ‘She lives here, in Prague.’

‘So that you can see her?’

‘Occasionally. If it’s safe.’

‘And is that why you are still here?’

‘A large part of it,’ he admitted. ‘I could probably have moved on if I had pressed for it.’

Jan Klaus arrived with their soup, some rough bread and two more glasses of beer. All talk of Lisa was suspended until
he had departed.

‘We believe people know she is here,’ Lenka said when the conversation resumed. ‘They are looking for her.’

He stared at her. ‘They can’t be!’

‘There are indications,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Communications, messages, that suggest it.’

It was deeply worrying. He rubbed his face with his hands and uneasily thought it over. Could they find her? Was it possible?

‘But what could anyone possibly want with her?’ he asked.

Lenka shrugged. ‘To put pressure on you?’

‘Why?’

‘Perhaps you are in somebody’s way?’

He shook his head and glanced distractedly at a TV behind the bar. Manic dance scenes and unwelcome noise poured from it. He turned away and drank some beer. He was thinking furiously about what Lenka had just said.

If people were looking for Lisa, perhaps the time had come to move her. He could take her back to England with him now, which was what Lisa had long wanted. But if that was to happen, he would have to give up the idea of investigating why Unit 89 had been wiped out, never mind all thoughts of avenging Landis and the others. Well, realistically, there never had been much chance of him doing that anyway.

Lenka give a little gasp. A spoon dropped from her fingers to clatter on the floor. He glanced at her. She was staring over his shoulder.

‘What is it?’

She pushed her chair back, stood up and set off across the room. He turned, stared wide-eyed at the television screen for a moment and leapt to his feet, his heart beating wildly.

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