Red Rabbit - Tom Clancy [177]
But there was no turning back now, and CIA was competent enough that KGB feared it, and didn't that mean that he was in good hands?
Then he remembered one other thing he had to do today. In his drawer was a pad of contact reports. Mary had suggested he report their meeting, and so he did. He described her as pretty, in her late twenties or early thirties, mother of a fairly nice little son, and none too bright—very American in mannerisms, he wrote—with modest language skills, good vocabulary but poor syntax and pronunciation, which made her Russian understandable but stilted. He didn't make an evaluation of her likelihood to be an intelligence officer, which, he figured, was the smart thing to do. After fifteen minutes of writing, he walked it over to the department security officer.
"This was a waste of time," he said, handing it to the man, a captain passed over for promotion twice.
The security officer scanned it. "Where did you meet her?"
"It's right there." He pointed to the contact form. "I took my zaichik for a walk in the park, and she showed up with her little boy. His name is Eddie, actual name is evidently Edward Edwardovich—Edward Junior, as the Americans say it—age four, I think she said, a nice little boy. We talked a few minutes about not very much, and the two of them walked away."
"Your impression of her?"
"If she is a spy, then I am confident of the victory of socialism," Zaitzev replied. "She is rather pretty, but far too skinny, and not overly bright. What I suppose is a typical American housewife."
"Anything else?"
"It's all there, Comrade Captain. It took longer to write that up than it did to speak with her."
"Your vigilance is noted, Comrade Major."
"I serve the Soviet Union." And Zaitzev headed back to his desk. It was a good idea on her part, he thought, to cross this t so assiduously. There might have been a shadow on her, after all, and if not, then there would be a new entry in her KGB file, reported by a KGB officer, certifying that she was no threat to world socialism.
Back at his desk, he returned to making extra-careful mental notes of his daily work. The more he gave CIA, the better he'd be paid. Maybe he would take his daughter to that Disney Planet amusement park, and maybe his little zaichik would enjoy herself there. His signals included other countries, too, and he memorized those as well. One code-named MINISTER in England was interesting. He was probably in their Foreign Ministry, and provided excellent political/diplomatic intelligence that they loved upstairs.
* * *
FOLEY TOOK AN embassy car for the drive to the British Embassy. They were cordial enough once he showed his ID, and Nigel came down to meet him in the grand foyer, which was indeed quite grand.
"Hello, Ed!" He gave a hearty handshake and a smile. "Come this way." They went up the marble stairs and then right to his office. Haydock closed the door and pointed him to a leather chair.
"What can I do for you?"
"We got a Rabbit," Foley said, skipping the preliminaries.
And that said it all. Haydock knew that Foley was a spook—a "cousin" in the British terminology.
"Why are you telling me?"
"We're going to need your help getting him out. We want to do that through Budapest, and our station there just got burned down. How's your shop there?"
"The chief is Andy Hudson. Former officer in the Parachute Regiment, able chap. But do back up, Edward. What can you tell me, and why is this so important?"
"He's a walk-in, I guess you'd say. He seems to be a communications guy.