Confessional - Jack Higgins [51]
Bureau Five was that section of the Soviet Embassy in Paris that dealt with the French Communist Party, infiltration of trade unions and so on. Turkin spent half an hour with their file on St Malo and the immediate area, but came up with nothing.
'The trouble is, Comrade,' he told Belov when he returned to the office, 'that the French Communist Party is extremely unreliable. The French tend to put country before party when the chips are down.'
'I know,' Belov said. 'It comes of an inborn belief in their own superiority.' He indicated the papers spread out on his desk. 'I've looked Jersey over pretty thoroughly. The solution is simple enough. You know that little airfield outside Paris we've used before?'
'Croix?' Turkin said. 'Lebel Air Taxis?'
'That's right. Jersey Airport opens early. You could land there at seven. Ample time to be down at the harbour to meet her. You have the usual selection of passports available. You could go as French businessmen.'
'But how do we bring her back?' Turkin asked. 'We'd have to pass through customs and immigration for the return flight from Jersey Airport. It would be an impossibility. Too easy for her to create a fuss.'
'Excuse me, Comrade Colonel,' Shepilov put in, 'but is it really necessary for us to bring her back at all since all that is needed in this affair is her silence, or have I got the wrong impression?'
'You certainly have,' Belov told him coldly. 'Whatever the circumstances, however difficult, General Maslovsky wants her back. I'd hate to be in your shoes if you reported that you had had to shoot her, Shepilov. I think there is an easy solution. According to the brochures, there is a yachting marina in St Helier Harbour. Boats for hire. Wasn't sailing something of a hobby of yours back home, Turkin?'
'Yes, Comrade.'
'Good, then I'm sure it's hardly beyond your abilities to sail a motor launch from Jersey to St Malo. You can hire a car there and bring her back by road.'
'Very well, Colonel.'
Irana came in with coffee on a tray. He said, 'Excellent. Now all that's needed is for someone to haul Lebel out of bed. The timing should just work nicely.'
Surprising herself, Tanya managed to sleep for most of the train journey and had to be prodded into wakefulness by two young students who had travelled next to her all the way from Paris. It was three-thirty and very cold on the station platform at Rennes although it had stopped raining. The students knew of an all-night cafe outside the station in the Boulevard Beaumont and showed her the way. It was warm and inviting in there, not too many people. She ordered coffee and an omelette and went to call Devlin on the public telephone.
Devlin, who had been waiting anxiously, said, 'Are you all right?'
'Fine,' she said. 'I even slept on the train. Don't worry. They can't have any idea where I am. When will I see you again?'
'Soon,' Devlin told her. 'We've got to get you to London safely first. Now listen to me. When the hydrofoil gets into Jersey, you'll be met by a man called Martin. Alexander Martin. Apparently he's a bit of a fan of yours so he knows what you look like.'
'I see. Anything else?'
'Not really.'
'Good, then I'll get back to my omelette, Professor.'
She rang off and Devlin replaced the receiver. A girl and a half, he told himself as he went into the kitchen. In the cottage, Harry Cussane was already phoning Paul Cherny.
Croix was a small airfield with a control tower, two hangars and three nissen huts, headquarters of an aero club but also used by Pierre Lebel to operate his air taxi service. Lebel was a dark, taciturn man who never asked questions if the price was right. He had flown for Belov on a number of occasions and knew Turkin and Shepilov well. He hadn't the slightest idea that they were Russian. Something illegal about them, he'd always thought, but as long as it didn't involve drugs and the price was right, he didn't mind. He was waiting for the two men when they arrived, opened the