The Peregrine Spy (38 page)

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Authors: Edmund P. Murray

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Espionage

BOOK: The Peregrine Spy
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“That’s what bothers me most,” said Lermontov. “You know better. And still you play games with me.” He tossed his hat across the room, then tugged off his coat and let it fall to the floor. Apparently exhausted, he slumped into a chair and let both hands fall to the table. “You bastard,” he repeated, now in a voice so low Frank had to guess at the words.

“I’ve got some vodka.”

“Good.”

He’d brought a bottle of his own Absolut along with a tin of Mina’s caviar and two spoons.

“It’s Iranian,” he said, nodding at the caviar.

“I prefer it.” Lermontov sampled the caviar.

His jaws did not move, and Frank suspected the giant Russian let the tiny eggs melt in his mouth. The poor bastard can’t chew, thought Frank.

“Excellent,” said Lermontov. He sipped the vodka. “I am a traitor to my motherland. I prefer this Swedish stuff even to export quality Stolichnaya.” He finished the Absolut in a gulp. Frank replenished his vodka. Lermontov drained the glass and held a hand over it. “More, perhaps, later. What response have you had from your people?”

“I’m here,” said Frank. “Despite what you’ve been up to with the Brits.”

“You know about that?”

“And the Canadians.”

“I needed to see what other avenues might be open for me. After you betrayed me.”

“I didn’t betray you,” said Frank.

“Trying to turn me over to Mr. Novak felt like a betrayal. But the British proved no better. I told the ambassador, Hempstone, I would not deal with MI6. I was very specific, and I told him why.”

“Can you tell me?” asked Frank.

“You can guess. British intelligence has been overloaded with traitors. Whole libraries have been written about them. It would be madness to think there are none left—and fatally dangerous for me if one of MI6’s current traitors let his Moscow handlers know that one Vassily Lermontov wanted to defect.”

“What about…” Frank did not know how to phrase it. “My shop?” he tried.

“CIA has its own problems, but I thought I could rely on you to protect me as best you can. Instead, you turned me over to an anti-Soviet relic of the Stalin era.”

“I had no choice.”

“Exactly,” said Lermontov. “Which is why I have to see what other choices I might have.”

Frank noticed Lermontov’s use of the present tense. “I have to see,” not “I had to see.”

“And now?” he asked.

“If I had to choose between you and Ambassador Hempstone, that’s relatively easy. I know you. And I would choose you. If I had to choose between Gerald Mosley and Roger Novak, a much closer call. But I would have to say Novak.”

“Why?”

“Novak is smarter. He waits to hear from me. Mosley pursues me.”

“Still?”

“Yes,” said Lermontov. “And I allow it. Just in case.”

“In case?”

“In case,” said Lermontov, “I discover for sure I cannot trust you Americans.”

“I’m here,” said Frank.

“Yes,” said Lermontov. “Despite what happened with your Mr. Novak, you are here.”

“That shows interest, great interest,” said Frank. “But…”

“But your people want an agent in place.”

“And you want to defect.”

“No,” said Lermontov. “I do not want to defect. But I must get to America. Soon.” He wrapped his right hand around his left wrist, covering his watch.

Time is running out, thought Frank. For both of us.

“I must get to America,” Lermontov repeated. “And be safe there. And get medical treatment there. And … my problems have become even more acute with KGB since this Nazih business. Another failure. Another embarrassment.”

“You ran him,” said Frank. “And you ran him against me.”

“No. He worked for me. I paid him. But his little clique of left-wing Qazvini queers ran him. Even now I don’t know all the details. Also an embarrassment. Evidently they were tied in with some
Tudeh
party dissidents.”

“What did that have to do with me?” asked Frank.

“In common with others, Major Nazih feared your influence with the Shah. Access to the Shah is power. Nazih had access and did not want to see his power diluted by an American spy.”

“And now he’s gone.”

“Despite his many shortcomings,” said Lermontov, “he gave us excellent access to the palace. The blame for his loss falls on me, but this time, at least so far, you have saved me.”

“I have?”

“Yes. In Ethiopia, based on information you provided, the government expelled me. And others who reported to me. Here, not because of you, but because of Nazih’s stupid intrigues, the government would have expelled me. The little fairy tried to play many games—against you, against me. I put my trust in that bastard. But the Shah, who of course is aware, thought it would be helpful to you if I remained, so you and I could discuss my … my need to get to America. So now we are even. Once you had me expelled, and now you have kept me from being expelled.”

“But you still aren’t in America.”

“But I am still not in America. And your people don’t want me there. If they did, they would have been smart enough not to send your stupid chief of station after me.”

“What they want is an agent in place. I have an idea, if you agree to it and can take the risks, it could give them what they want and still get you to America.”

“How?” asked Lermontov.

“Recruit me,” said Frank.

“What?”

“My idea is for you to recruit me. Here and now. I can start feeding you information useful to you but not damaging to America. I can give you my justification. My disillusionment with the agency. My need for money because I can’t save enough to do what I want to do without more money than the agency pays me.”

Lermontov studied him. “And what is it you want to do?”

“I’ve got a son to support. He’s smart enough, and public schools in America are bad enough, he deserves private school and, before too many years, college.”

“What about that writer’s nest egg you want?”

“Yeah, that’s real enough,” said Frank. “You know about it. I know about it. But I don’t think the upper reaches of the KGB will want to finance me to write books, including maybe some books about them.”

“Of course not,” said Lermontov. “We would only want you as an agent in place.”

“Of course,” said Frank. “In place and hungry for money right now. I’ll stay in place here for as long as I can. The job I go to when all this is over and I get back to the States is a job with the highest-level security clearance and access to intelligence from all over the world. I’ll be in that job for the long haul, and I’ll need a contact in the States I can trust, and I don’t trust any Russian but you. It’s up to you to get assigned to Washington, and something tells me you can make that happen. The agency gets what it wants. The Soviets get an agent inside the CIA, run by you. And you get to America, not as a defector, but as an agent in place still within the KGB.”

Lermontov studied him, then shook his head.

“I know the risks involved,” said Frank. “It means hanging on here for a while, and it means going back to Moscow before you could get reassigned to Washington. And it means the KGB still has control over you, even in Washington.”

“You don’t know all the risks,” said Lermontov. “I doubt this can work.”

“It has to work,” said Frank.

“You’ve cleared this with your people?”

“With my chief of station. He doesn’t want to try it on Langley unless you go for it.”

“I don’t like the idea of going back to Moscow,” said Lermontov, “or staying within KGB. But I’m willing to take the risks. And I will tell you how serious the risks will be.”

*   *   *

“What happens next?” said Rocky, alone with Frank in the bubble. “Think we can bring him in?”

“First, if anything’s going to happen, we need quick approval on the scenario. Release on stuff I might have access to here, sanitized as necessary, that I can start to feed him.”

“You know this means we’re gonna have a shitload of desk jockeys descend on us, all wantin’ a piece of the action, wantin’ to change your scenario so they can claim it’s their scenario.”

“All willing to fuck up the recruitment,” said Frank.

“Fuckin’-A. All in the greater national interest of promoting their own careers,” said Rocky. Just like you did, thought Frank. They exchanged a glance, and Rocky looked away.

Frank recognized Rocky’s effort to make peace, but he knew their war continued. “Can we, I guess that means can you, convince the Langley types it’s in their interest to give us some room? Let us bring it off and let them take the credit.”

“I can try,” said Rocky. “You said he gave you some other stuff that might help. What is it?”

“I’m almost afraid to tell you.” He reached for his bulky, battered briefcase. “Let me start with the easy stuff. This is a draft, in Russian, of a statement some top advisers to Brezhnev, foreign affairs and military, want him to make. Says the Soviets will move into Azerbaijan, the Iranian part of Azerbaijan. Move in in force if the U.S. doesn’t cancel plans to move the Seventh Fleet Carrier Force into the Indian Ocean, close to the Gulf, and send a squadron of F-15s to Saudi Arabia.”

“We’ve got such plans?”

“The Russians seem to think so. Lermontov says their embassy here thinks the statement is a big mistake, that it will freak out leftist Iranians who other-wise support the Soviets, not to mention other Islamic countries. He hopes if the Americans know about it they can use some quiet diplomacy to discourage Brezhnev from coming out with it. ’Course, the Americans have to handle it so it looks like the leak came from Moscow or someone in Washington, not someone in Tehran.”

“He gave you this?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure that’s what it says?”

“Hell, no. I don’t read Russian. Rocky, have you got anybody who reads Russian?”

“Yeah, I told you. Me. Belinsky reads it better, but I’m not sure I wanna share this. When’s Brezhnev supposed t’ make the statement?”

“The
Constellation
—he said the
Constellation
’s the carrier force flagship—is in the Pacific but heading toward Singapore, just around the corner from the Indian Ocean. If the
Constellation
keeps coming in this direction when it leaves Singapore, they want Brezhnev to go public.”

“He’s already made one statement telling us to stay away.”

“And real quick we said we had no intention of intervening. But all this gets a lot more specific. The
Constellation
to the Gulf. F-15s to the Saudis. Russian troops into northern Iran.”

“And we react and maybe World War III starts right here,” said Rocky.

“Maybe, in a way, it’s already started,” said Frank.

“Best we can do,” said Rocky, “draft the cable quick as you can and pouch this to Langley.”

“We better copy it first,” said Frank. “In case somebody over there loses it.”

“We aren’t that incompetent,” said Rocky. He looked from the Cyrillic document to Frank. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll copy it. Sully, I gotta tell you. If Lermontov is playin’ us, this could be part of the game. It could be disinformation. It could be usin’ us t’ affect American policy. When you draft, get those caveats into the cable. But if we are bein’ played, our caveatin’ won’t help but so much. I’m almost afraid to ask what else you got.”

“You should be. Lermontov says he knows about a mole.”

“Fuck me.” Rocky seized the edge of the glass table with both hands.

“He didn’t say ‘mole.’ ‘Penetration agent,’ he called it. So maybe it is ‘fuck us.’”

“No jokes,” said Rocky. “This for real?”

“He only knows his code name, and he wouldn’t even give me that. He thinks this may be his ticket to get to the States.”

“He may be right,” said Rocky. “High level, low level?”

“From what he said, sounds pretty low level. Said he knew some of the information the guy had passed on, which could help track him down. But if we don’t track him down, Lermontov worries the guy may find out about him.”

“And give Lermontov up to whoever the fuck handles him.”

“Right,” said Frank. “Lermontov says of all the risks he faces, the mole is the most dangerous, and not just to him.”

“He’s right about that,” said Rocky. “Long as we’re here, a mole in Langley could put all our asses in a sling.”

“But Lermontov said if he could get himself assigned to the embassy in Washington, he’d be in a position to find out more about the penetration.”

“Clever fucker. He knows us too well. But I’ll tell you what. This mole business could help us. I’ll get off a cable to the Holy Ghost himself, eyes only.”

Frank knew Rocky meant Henry James, the head of the agency’s counterintelligence operations. Dan Nitzke had worked with him and considered him completely mad. Others shared that opinion, but James wielded enormous power.

“I know the guy,” said Rocky. “If Lermontov can give up a mole, that makes recruitin’ Lermontov the Holy Ghost’s game. If James gets into this, and I guarantee you he will, he’ll call off the NE and Soviet Division dogs in a hurry. It becomes his baby, and his way is to take care of business by remote control. And nobody else treads on his turf. They’re too worried about what he might know about them. Or could maybe find out or make up. ’Sides, none of those homebodies will have the hots to come over to this armpit of a country at a time where they might face a serious risk of getting their ass shot off. What else have you got on this maybe mole?”

“Not much. Sounds like he’s strictly a mercenary. Nothing ideological, which makes some KGB types suspicious. But they’ve rolled up a couple of operations, East Bloc and Russia.”

“Sweet Holy Ghost. He’ll love this. How long they been runnin’ him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Find out. Find out all you can. And let Lermontov know this could be his ace in the hole. When’s your next meet?”

“Soon’s we get some word back from Langley.”

“You contact him through this Hamid character?”

Frank hesitated.

“Quit stalling. What’s wrong?”

“Another problem. Lermontov’s pretty sure military intelligence is about to roll him up.”

“Him who? Hamid?”

Frank nodded.

“I thought he fuckin’ works for military intelligence.”

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