Dominic Briffaut received Aguilar’s message, sent from a burner phone in the field, just before midday, when he was in his office talking with Marie Lafont. It was brief but to the point: Keratine was conducting surveillance of Lenny Varnachev at the Baku Four Seasons on Friday morning.
Briffaut looked up from his screen as Lafont assured him there was no chatter out of Libya concerning military actions on the GNA’s gas infrastructure.
‘The system that connects Libyan gas to Sicily is a huge target. We’d be hearing something through our communication channels if a strike was planned.’
‘We have a source in the LNA,’ said Briffaut, referring to General Haftar’s government, ‘but nothing from there. The only prod from Benghazi is that Wagner Group is shitty with al-Kaniyat for failing in Istanbul, but Haftar supports al-Kaniyat because those lunatics control large areas of desert for the general. He won’t turn on them.’
‘So we’re back to the Israel scenario?’ asked Lafont.
‘We’re back to keeping open minds and seeing where Wagner Group leads us,’ said Briffaut. ‘We’re tapping a Russian source.’
‘I hope it’s not the Pantheon field and this whole Kolomoisky mess,’ said Lafont, standing and collecting her files. ‘Sturt is jumping around like his handmade shoes are on fire. French involvement in Pantheon and the EastMed pipeline is paramount for the President. But at the same time, we can’t muscle up like we did with the Turks last year, because when it comes to Mediterranean gas, the Élysée reads Turkish actions as a proxy for Moscow.’
‘Okay,’ said Briffaut, raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘We’re totally clandestine. And I guess we need gas as a backup plan if the Germans manage to take nuclear power out of the EU’s net-zero pathway?’
Lafont smiled as she turned for the door. ‘If gas is good enough for the Germans, it must be good enough for the French, right?’
Briffaut bade her farewell and mused on Germany’s net-zero energy plan which curiously allowed the emissions of natural gas but penalised the zero emissions of nuclear. When gas became the economic currency of Europe, France would want ownership in the cheapest supply of it, which was Pantheon and the EastMed pipeline. The French navy had recently been in standoffs with Turkish warships in the eastern Mediterranean over gas drilling in disputed waters. The Turks were obviously being goaded by Moscow into drilling outside their economic zone, but with Putin still controlling more than half of Europe’s gas supply, this was not the time to call it out.
He turned back to the Aguilar message and typed a response: Message received. Stay in place, cavalry coming to you.
Briffaut hit send then raised his voice towards the door. ‘Margot! Get me Templar, please.’
■
The mission team comprised four people: Templar, Shrek, Danny and Jéjé. They each attended to last-minute gardening of their fake ID legends in Paris then took separate routes into Azerbaijan.
In Baku, de Payns checked into the Sea View Hotel and immediately checked the room. He was not happy with an assignment on the run, and he usually pushed back against DR taskings that came with small budgets and tight timeframes. But this one was ordered by Briffaut, and he understood the need to stay in Baku. He made a perfunctory check for microphones and cameras. The place looked clean, so he went outside and walked the street for half an hour, satisfied himself that he wasn’t being followed, and ate at a cheap cafe. Templar was procuring a vehicle and listening equipment, and Shrek, who had dealt with the Four Seasons’ concierge—making him an offer he couldn’t refuse—was charged with finding a room adjacent to the Varnachev room, where the meeting would be held.
The next day, Wednesday, de Payns did a bit of sightseeing, like a tourist, waiting for the late afternoon. At a bus stop on a road that led down to the waterfront and Azneft Square, he found four white gommettes on the advertising board, meaning the mission team was primed and in place. He added his own white sticker to indicate he was present and ready.
At 11.45 p.m. he awoke to his alarm, dressed and walked through the darkness to a small park with kids’ swings and a water fountain. He waited by a tree, in shadow, and at 12.01 a.m. a battered Fiat van pulled up.
‘Nice wheels,’ said de Payns, jumping in. The van smelled of spilled paint and rotten cabbage.
‘I’m all class,’ said Templar, as he drove them across town.
In the hills above Baku, Templar parked in a scrubby layby. He gave de Payns a new burner phone and showed him two twenty-year-old Beretta 9mm pistols he’d acquired.
They both lit up cigarettes.
‘Do we have the listening gear?’ asked de Payns.
‘It’s a little older than we’re used to, but I’m assured it works,’ said Templar, reaching into the van behind them and bringing forward a black Cordura sports bag. ‘It’s got either plug-in or battery, and it can also transmit.’
De Payns pulled an object the size of a coffee can out of the bag. It was five times the size of the wall microphones the Y Division used. ‘Wonder if Maxwell Smart ever used this?’
‘It’s the amplifier that counts and ours is Danish, top of the line,’ said Templar. ‘I got us a directional microphone, too,’ he added, lifting out a parabolic dish with a handgrip attached.
In its own bag was a set of mission radios that had seen better days, but they had micro earpieces and the system seemed to work.
De Payns nodded. ‘How are we with the Four Seasons?’
‘Shrek’s concierge friend has got us a room beside Varnachev’s,’ said Templar. ‘We’re pretty sure he’s travelling as Ivan Borovich.’
‘This Hezbollah creep and his bodyguard,’ said de Payns. ‘Any sight of him?’
‘No—the team have gone over the file photographs of Salah and they’re on the lookout. Shrek is calling him “the Weasel”.’
‘Let’s not underestimate him or his backup. What about Wagner Group heavies? Seen anyone around?’
‘No, and I understand that Varnachev travels alone, an old spy habit.’
‘What about Danny and Jéjé?’ asked de Payns.
‘Danny’s keeping an eye on the hotel and Jéjé’s at the airport to give us the heads-up when Varnachev or Salah arrives.’
‘You seen Keratine?’ asked de Payns.
‘No,’ said Templar. ‘He could be up there living on room service.’
‘We’ll need pics of Lenny and whoever is with him,’ said de Payns.
Templar smiled and pointed at the glove box. ‘Brought the Canon, but also got a pen camera if we feel the need to loiter in the foyer.’
‘I can handle the Canon from long range,’ said de Payns, ‘but I don’t know about up close with the pen. He could recognise me from Azzam. Besides, I’d rather be in the sub monitoring the Varnachev meeting.’
‘Once Varnachev arrives at the hotel, Jéjé can take photos in the foyer,’ said Templar. ‘Otherwise we’re in the sub. All set?’
‘I’ll let you know in twenty-four hours.’