A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [113]
There is a brief silence.
‘Are you being dumb?’
‘No.’
‘Well, there you go. Now just relax. Where is all this coming from?’
He doesn’t give me time to answer.
‘If you’re worried about being tailed we can have one of our own people follow you. They’ll know in thirty seconds if you’ve got a surveillance problem.’
The nerve of this. They’re already tracking me.
‘Great. So now I won’t know if I’m being tailed by the CIA or Scotland Yard or a private security firm hired by Abnex.’
Fortner doesn’t like this now, not at all.
‘Now look, Alec. You’d better start being cool about this or you’re gonna slip up. When they caught spies during the Cold War they were sent to Moscow and made into heroes. If they catch you, you’ll be sent to jail and get your butt fucked. And if you get caught, we get caught. So let’s all just calm down, right? Let’s not get too excited.’
He sits down on the chair nearest mine and for a moment I think he is going to try to reach out and touch me. But his hands remain folded on the surface of the table.
‘Look,’ he says, taking a deep breath. ‘Bottom line. If things get too hot we have a safe house for you here in London. In fact we have safe houses, plural. We can get you in a Witness Protection Program back home, whatever you want.’
I almost let out a laugh here, but luckily some latent good sense in me smothers it.
Katharine says:
‘The important thing is that we are all deniable to one another.’ Her voice is a welcome balm. ‘Now are we deniable, Alec? What is the nature of our relationship should you get caught?’
‘I’m not going to get caught.’
‘If you do,’ she says, trying to be patient with me.
‘Friendship. We had dinners and drinks. That’s it. No one has ever seen me handing anything to you. Not even in the theatre. That’s how you wanted it.’
‘Good.’
‘And me?’ I ask. ‘Am I deniable to you?’
‘Of course,’ they say in practised unison. ‘Absolutely.’
Now we sit quietly for a moment, no one saying anything, just coming down off the tension. Katharine gets up and pours herself a glass of wine and I light a cigarette, searching around for an ashtray. The Chopin has slowed to an aching lament, single notes collapsing into each other.
‘I don’t mean to get tough on you,’ Fortner says finally, moving his hand closer towards mine on the table.
‘Look,’ Katharine says, joining in. ‘We’re here for you. What you’re doing must be messing with your nerves.’
This is standard procedure: officers must combine a firmness of intent with enough flattery and conciliation to keep an agent onside.
‘Is there anything else you need to talk about?’ she adds.
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I’d just like to talk business briefly, if that’s all right?’
Fortner jerks his head up.
‘Sure,’ he says, looking pleased.
‘It’s just that I have some interesting news.’
‘Go on,’ he says, nodding slowly. He needs to shave.
‘You know of course that Abnex has been exploring 5F371 in the North Basin?’
‘Sure.’
I take a long draw on the cigarette. This is what the Americans have been waiting for.
‘The exploration work finished as of last week. My team is expecting a geological report containing sufficient 3D seismic data to depict the extent and location of the hydrocarbon deposits within the field. That could happen at any time in the next two months. If I can get hold of a copy, it should tell you how much Abnex is prepared to pay to get access rights to the oil.’
‘Good,’ Fortner murmurs.
‘As far as I know, bids are being tabled in early summer of next year. That should allow Andromeda time to outflank us. I can also get you documentation outlining how we plan to export the oil once our bid has been accepted. There will also be maps and information regarding pipelines, terminals and shipping routes, all of which should be useful