‘Warm day for London,’ another tourist said.
‘I wonder if they get thunderstorms here,’ the American replied casually, examining Henry VIII’s immense suit of armor.
‘They do,’ the man replied, ‘but not as severe as those in Washington.’
Henderson looked for an exit and headed towards it. A moment later he was strolling around Tower Green with his new companion.
‘Your English is excellent.’
‘Thank you, Peter. I am George.’
‘Hi, George.’ Henderson smiled without looking at his new friend. It really was like James Bond, and doing it here – not just in London, but in the historical seat of Britain’s royal family – well, that was just delicious.
George was his real name – actually Georgiy, which was the Russian equivalent – and he rarely went into the field anymore. Though he’d been a highly effective field officer for KGB, his analytical ability was such that he’d been called back to Moscow five years earlier, promoted to lieutenant colonel and placed in charge of a whole section. Now a full colonel, George looked forward to general’s stars. The reason he’d come to London, via Helsinki and Brussels, was that he’d wanted to eyeball CASSIUS himself – and get a little shopping done for his own family. Only three men of his age in KGB shared his rank, and his young and pretty wife liked to wear Western clothes. Where else to shop for them but London? George didn’t speak French or Italian.
‘This is the only time we will meet, Peter.’
‘Should I be honored?’
‘If you wish.’ George was unusually good-natured for a Russian, though that was part of his cover. He smiled at the American. ‘Your senator has access to many things.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Henderson agreed, enjoying the courtship ritual. He didn’t have to add, and so do I.
‘Such information is useful to us. Your government, especially with your new president – honestly, he frightens us.’
‘He frightens me,’ Henderson admitted.
‘But at the same time there is hope,’ George went on, speaking in a reasonable and judicious voice. ‘He is also a realist. His proposal for detente is seen by my government as a sign that we can reach a broad international understanding. Because of that we wish to examine the possibility that his proposal for discussions is genuine. Unfortunately we have problems of our own.’
‘Such as?’
‘Your president, perhaps he means well. I say that sincerely, Peter,’ George added. ‘But he is highly … competitive. If he knows too much about us, he will press us too hard in some areas, and that might prevent us from reaching the accommodation that we all desire. You have adverse political elements in your government. So do we – leftovers from the Stalin era. The key to negotiations such as those which may soon begin is that both sides must be reasonable. We need your help to control the unreasonable elements on our side.’
Henderson was surprised by that. The Russians could be so open, like Americans. ‘How can I do that?’
‘Some things we cannot allow to be leaked. If they are, it will poison our chances for detente. If we know too much about you, or you know too much about us, well, the game becomes skewed. One side or the other seeks too much advantage, and then there can be no understanding, only domination, which neither side will accept. Do you see?’
‘Yes, that makes sense.’
‘What I am asking, Peter, is that you let us know from time to time certain special things that you have learned about us. I won’t even tell you what, exactly. I think you are intelligent enough to see for yourself. We will trust you on that. The time for war is behind us. The coming peace, if it does come, will depend on people like you and me. There must be trust between our nations. That trust begins between two people. There is no other way. I wish there were, but that is how peace must begin.’
‘Peace – that would be nice,’ Henderson allowed. ‘First we have to get our damned war ended.’
‘We are working towards that end, as you know. We’re – well, not pressuring, but we are encouraging our friends to take a more moderate line. Enough young men have died. It is time to put an end to it, an end that both sides will find acceptable.’
‘That’s good to hear, George.’
‘So can you help us?’
They’d walked all around Tower Green, now facing the chapel. There was a chopping block there. Henderson didn’t know if it had actually been used or not. Around it was a low chain fence, and standing on it at the moment was a raven, one of those kept on Tower grounds for the mixed reasons of tradition and superstition. Off to their right a Yeoman Warder was conducting a bunch of tourists around.
‘I’ve been helping you, George.’ Which was true. Henderson had been nibbling at the hook for nearly two years. What the KGB colonel had to do now was to sweeten the bait, then see if Henderson would swallow the hook down.
‘Yes, Peter, I know that, but now we are asking for a little more, some very sensitive information. The decision is yours, my friend. It is easy to wage war. Waging peace can be far more dangerous. No one will ever know the part you played. The important people of ministerial rank will reach their agreements and shake hands across the table. Cameras will record the events for history, and people like you and me, our names will never find their way into the history books. But it will matter, my friend. People like us will set the stage for the ministers. I cannot force you in this, Peter. You must decide if you wish to help us on your own account. You will also decide what it is that we need to know. You’re a bright young man, and your generation in America has learned the lessons that must be learned. If you wish, I will let you decide over time -‘
Henderson turned, making his decision. ‘No. You’re right. Somebody has to help make the peace, and dithering around won’t change that. I’ll help you, George.’
‘There is danger involved. You know that,’ George warned. It was a struggle not to react, but now that Henderson was indeed swallowing the hook, he had to set it firmly.
‘I’ll take my chances. It’s worth it.’
?hhh.
‘People like you need to be protected. You will be contacted when you get home.’ George paused. ‘Peter, I am a father. I have a daughter who is six and a son who is two. Because of your work, and mine, they will grow up in a much better world – a peaceful world. For them, Peter, I thank you. I must go now.’
‘See you, George,’ Henderson said. It caused George to turn and smile one last time.
‘No, Peter, you will not.’ George walked down the stone steps towards Traitor’s Gate. It required all of his considerable self-control not to laugh aloud at the mixture of what he had just accomplished and the thundering irony of the portcullised stone arch before his eyes. Five minutes later he stepped into a black London taxi and directed the driver to head towards Harrods Department Store in Knightsbridge.
Cassius, he thought. No, that wasn’t right. Casca, perhaps. But it was too late to change it now, and besides, who would have have seen the humor in it? Glazov reached in his pocket for his shopping list.
CHAPTER 25
Departures
One demonstration, however perfect, wasn’t enough, of course. For each of the next four nights, they did it all again, and twice more in daylight, just so that positioning was clear to everyone. The snatch team would be racing into the prison block only ten feet away from the stream of fire from an M-60 machine gun – the physical layout of the camp demanded it, much to everyone’s discomfort – and that was the most dangerous technical issue of the actual assault. But by the end of the week, the BOXWOOD GREEN team was as perfectly trained as men could be. They knew it, and the flag officers knew it. Training didn’t exactly slack off, but it did stabilize, lest the men become overtrained and dulled by the routine. What followed was the final phase of the preparation. While training, men would stop the action and make small suggestions to one another. Good ideas were bumped immediately to a senior NCO or to Captain Albie and more often than not incorporated in the plan. This was the intellectual part of it, and it was important that every member of the team felt as though he had a chance to affect things to some greater or lesser degree. From that came confidence, not the bravado so often associated with elite troops, but the deeper and far more significant professional judgment that considered and adjusted and readjusted until things were just right – and then stopped.