The winter winds whipped off the Arctic north and straight down the back of de Payns’ neck. He cursed himself for not bringing a scarf as he walked his pre-meeting security route in an insulated Timberland rancher’s jacket. But even as he felt the cold on his neck he did not contemplate jumping in a St Petersburg taxi to become the plaything of the Russian intelligence services.
Having played the part of Benoît Droulez, marketing consultant, who was wandering around St Petersburg taking in the sights, he now meandered across the Dvortsoviy Bridge, slowing at two points to take photographs of the Neva River and the Hermitage Museum which dominated the skyline on the opposite bank.
He detected no sign of followers, and on the other side of the bridge he veered right and walked south along the riverfront. Glancing at his watch he saw it was 9.26 a.m., putting him on time for his pre-handover chat with Jim Valley before the meeting with Lotus.
Joining a gaggle of tourists, he crossed the Admiralty boulevard in front of a huge collection of buildings that had once housed Catherine the Great’s naval brains trust. He stepped into the Hotel Katyusha and passed through the lobby as if a guest, then took a side exit into a gentrified laneway. He walked to the end of the lane, where there was a fork, took the left option and entered a smaller building that was used for conferences and business-oriented events at the hotel.
At the top of a flight of stairs was a corridor and a door marked Baltic Room. He glanced at his watch—9.30 a.m.—then he knocked.
The bolt slid back and the door opened. Jim Valley stood in front of him, over six feet tall and solidly built, although de Payns noticed he’d grown out his dark grey hair now that his special forces days were officially behind him.
‘Morning,’ said Valley, standing back to allow de Payns to enter, and locking the door behind him.
There was a bank of windows along the wall of a large, white room, with partial views of the Neva but mostly the back of the Hotel Katyusha.
‘I got the machine working,’ said Valley, moving in his outdoor wear to a self-serve area that contained a capsule coffee maker.
‘Black with one sugar,’ said de Payns, unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat at a white trestle table. ‘How’re we looking?’
‘We’re clean,’ said Valley, the machine grinding out a cup of coffee. ‘I watched you come off the bridge, and there were no followers.’
De Payns hadn’t asked for overwatch, but he was quietly impressed with Valley’s attention to security.
Valley put a mug of coffee in front of de Payns and a packet of Russian-labelled biscuits.
‘I think they’re what the English call “shortcake”.’
‘Shortbread,’ said de Payns, whose mother had kept tins of the stuff in the cupboard above her tea-making gear. ‘And I think it’s Scottish.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Valley sitting with his own mug of coffee and staring at it too long. ‘I guess we should clear the air?’
‘First things first,’ said de Payns. ‘Lotus is a Georgian fixer who sells us information gleaned primarily from the Russians, but occasionally from the Ukrainians and Turks too. And once from the Iranians, but that turned out to be Mossad bullshit.’
‘Okay,’ said Valley, nodding his large head.
‘You’ve been sent the protocol for the drops and I suggest you stick to it to the letter of it,’ said de Payns. ‘Lotus is promiscuous, which in my view increases the chances of him being leveraged by another service. So if he calls for the slightest variation in the protocol, reject it and let us know, all right?’
Valley nodded. ‘Got it.’
‘Are you aware of recent history regarding Lotus?’
‘Are you talking about Paul Degarde?’
‘Perhaps,’ said de Payns.
‘I believe he used to do this job, and is now deceased,’ said Valley.
The two men looked at each other.
‘The working assumption is that he was caught in his own home because he neglected his security hygiene when he landed in Paris.’
‘I didn’t know that part,’ said Valley.
‘Caught by Russians, we believe,’ said de Payns. ‘That isn’t widely known and I expect your discretion.’
‘Thanks for telling me,’ said Valley, his expression sombre. ‘I’ll keep it to myself.’
‘The drops have been non-verbal for more than a year, at my insistence—that’s because I consider Lotus dangerous,’ continued de Payns. ‘I’d like you to remain non-verbal.’
‘Sure, boss,’ said Valley, with no hint of sarcasm.
‘As for clearing the air …’
‘Can I go first?’
Jim Valley apologised for abducting Romy and the boys a year earlier, adding that when Templar had ambushed him at the farmhouse where he was holding them, he had already decided to pull the pin on the kidnapping. It was an operation ordered by his superior, Philippe Manerie, the disgraced former director of internal affairs for French intelligence, the DGS. De Payns knew some of the story was true: one of the other agents who’d held the de Payns family at a farm in northern France for thirty-six hours had told investigators that Valley was ending the operation because he thought there was something off about it. There had been no indication that Jim Valley benefited from Manerie’s dealings with a Pakistani terror cell that had attempted to poison the Paris water supply; he was merely the muscle, made loyal by old military ties.
‘Must have been hard to turn on Manerie,’ de Payns commented. ‘He was your commanding officer in the Marines?’
Valley nodded. ‘We served in Africa together, in the RPIMa. He was a captain, and he was a damn good operator. The local Marxists steered around him. So, yes it was hard to turn on him.’
‘But?’
‘But I got a bad feeling about him towards the end there,’ said Valley. ‘And I draw the line at kids.’
De Payns sensed the man was genuine. ‘Briffaut thinks highly of you, and that’s a rare accolade.’
‘Briffaut allowed me to live,’ Valley replied. ‘That’s accolade enough.’
De Payns checked his watch. ‘I won’t be telling Lotus about the Degarde murder. Let’s hold that back and see if he offers anything.’
‘Got it, boss.’
■
Lotus arrived at 10.01 a.m. and de Payns kept the conversation very short and simple; agents had been shuffled but the payments stayed the same and the protocol was unchanged. The new contact was Pierre, said de Payns, gesturing to Valley.
‘Any questions?’
‘Is there a reason why we are in Russia?’ asked Lotus, who had kept his tweed trilby on his head.
‘No,’ said de Payns.
‘Then I request we not meet in this country again,’ said Lotus. ‘May I remind you of who Pierre and I are betraying? You might trick the wolf once or twice, but in his own den he still has the advantage.’
‘That’s up to Pierre,’ said de Payns. ‘He’s running the show now.’
Lotus looked from de Payns to Valley and licked his bottom lip. ‘So, no pay rise?’
‘The fee is the fee,’ said de Payns.
‘You don’t think the quality has improved, perhaps?’
‘It’s been good product,’ de Payns conceded. ‘A new source, huh?’
Lotus grinned and wagged his finger at de Payns jokingly. ‘Wouldn’t the Company like to know that?’
‘I’d never ask,’ said de Payns, returning the smile. ‘But if there is something you’d like to share …’
‘Well,’ said Lotus, shrugging, ‘I didn’t know I had a new handler, so I brought something very interesting.’
Lotus reached inside his black pea jacket, drew out a packet of Rothmans cigarettes and placed them in front of Valley.
‘Not today,’ said de Payns. ‘When I leave, you can arrange your first meeting with Pierre and make the drop.’
The Georgian made a face. ‘But I am here now.’
De Payns looked at his colleague.
‘We’ll stick to the protocol,’ said Valley.
Lotus replaced the packet in his coat pocket, seeming to accept the arrangement. ‘So, where is my former contact? Promoted to a nice embassy in America or South-East Asia?’
‘What makes you think he was from the embassy?’
Lotus shrugged. ‘He is not like you and Pierre. You two are wild animals, right on the edge.’
De Payns smiled. Lotus had used the present tense—he is—which suggested he did not know of Paul Degarde’s demise. Standing, he nodded to Jim Valley and headed for the door.
‘Good to see you again, my friend,’ said Lotus. ‘You should think about that pay rise.’
‘I should do many things,’ said de Payns, closing the door behind him.