`And the Americans?’ General G. wanted to put a stop to Vozdvishensky’s attempts to qualify his praise of British Intelligence. One day that bit about the Public School and University tradition would sound well in court. Next, hoped General G., he will be saying that the Pentagon is stronger than the Kremlin.
`The Americans have the biggest and richest service among our enemies. Technically, in such matters as radio and weapons and equipment, they are the best. But they have no understanding for the work. They get enthusiastic about some Balkan spy who says he has a secret army in the Ukraine. They load him with money with which to buy boots for this army. Of course he goes at once to Paris and spends the money on women. Americans try to do everything with money. Good spies will not work for money alone–only bad ones, of which the Americans have several divisions.’
`They have successes, Comrade,’ said General G. silkily. `Perhaps you underestimate them.’
General Vozdvishensky shrugged. `They must have successes, Comrade General. You cannot sow a million seeds without reaping one potato. Personally I do not think the Americans need engage the attention of this conference.’ The head of R.U.M.I.D. sat back in his chair and stolidly took out his cigarette case.
`A very interesting exposition,’ said General G. coldly. `Comrade General Slavin?’
General Slavin of the G.R.U. had no intention of committing himself on behalf of the General Staff of the Army. `I have listened with interest to the words of Comrade General Vozdvishensky. I have nothing to add.’
Colonel of State Security Nikitin of M.G.B. felt it would do no great harm to show up the G.R.U. as being too stupid to have any ideas at all, and at the same time to make a modest recommendation that would probably tally with the inner thoughts of those present–and that was certainly on the tip of General G.’s tongue. Colonel Nikitin also knew that, given the proposition that had been posed by the Praesidium, the Soviet Secret Service would back him up.
`I recommend the English Secret Service as the object of terrorist action,’ he said decisively. `The devil knows my department hardly finds them a worthy adversary, but they are the best of an indifferent lot.’
General G. was annoyed by the authority in the man’s voice, and by having his thunder stolen, for he also had intended to sum up in favour of an operation against the British. He tapped his lighter softly on the desk to reimpose his chairmanship. `Is it agreed then, Comrades? An act of terrorism against the British Secret Service?’
There were careful, slow nods all round the table. `
`I agree. And now for the target within that organization. I remember Comrade General Vozdvishensky saying something about a myth upon which much of the alleged strength of this Secret Service depends. How can we help to destroy the myth and thus strike at the very motive force of this organization? Where does this myth reside? We cannot destroy all its personnel at one blow. Does it reside in the Head? Who is the Head of the British Secret Service?’
Colonel Nikitin’s aide whispered in his ear. Colonel Nikitin decided that this was a question he could and perhaps should answer.
`He is an Admiral. He is known by the letter M. We have a zapiska on him, but it contains little. He does not drink very much. He is too old for women. The public does not know of his existence. It would be difficult to create a scandal round his death. And he would not be easy to kill. He rarely goes abroad. To shoot him in a London street would not be very refined.’
`There is much in what you say, Comrade,’ said General G. `But we are here to find a target who will fulfil our requirements. Have they no one who is a hero to the organization? Someone who is admired and whose ignominious destruction would cause dismay? Myths are built on heroic deeds and heroic people. Have they no such men?’
There was silence round the table while everyone searched his memory. So many names to remember, so many dossiers, so many operations going on every day all over the world. Who was there in the British Secret Service? Who was the man who . . .?