Red Rabbit - Tom Clancy [178]
"So, high priority and high reliability on this chappie?"
Foley bobbed his head. "Yep. Want the good news?"
"If there is any."
"He says our comms may be compromised, but your new system hasn't been cracked yet."
"Good to hear. So, that means I can communicate freely, but you cannot?"
Another nod. "I learned this morning that a communications aid is on its way to me—perhaps they ginned up a couple of pads for me to use. I'll find out later today, maybe."
Haydock leaned back in his chair and lit up a smoke, a low-tar Silk Cut. He'd switched to them to make his wife happy.
"You have a plan?" the Brit spook asked.
"I figure he takes the train to Budapest. For the rest of it, well…" Foley outlined the idea he and Mary Pat had figured out.
"That is creative, Edward." Haydock thought. "When did you read up on MINCEMEAT? It's part of the syllabus at our academy, you know."
"Back when I was a kid. I always thought it was pretty clever."
"In the abstract, not a bad idea—but, you know, the pieces you need are not something you pick up at the ironmongers."
"I kinda figured that, Nigel. So, if we want to make the play, better that we get moving on it right quick."
"Agreed." Haydock paused. "Basil will want to know a few things. What else can I tell him?"
"He ought to get a hand-carried letter from Judge Moore this morning. All I can really say is, this guy looks pretty real."
"You said he's a communications officer—in The Centre, is it?"
"Yep."
"That could be very valuable indeed," Haydock agreed. "Especially if he's a mail clerk." He pronounced it clark. The invocation of the name of Foley's training officer almost caused him to smile… but not quite.
It was a slower nod this time, with Foley's eyes locked in on his host. "That's what we're thinking, guy."
It finally got home. "Bloody hell," Haydock breathed. "That would be valuable. And he's just a walk-in?"
"Correct. A little more complicated than that, but that's what it comes down to, bud."
"Not a trap, not a false-flag?"
"I've thought about that, of course, but it just doesn't make sense, does it?" Foley asked. The Brit knew he was Agency, but didn't know he was Station Chief. "If they've ID'd me, why tip their hand this early?"
"True," Nigel had to agree. "That would be clumsy. So, Budapest, is it? Easier than out of Moscow—at least there's that."
"There's bad news, too. His wife isn't in on the plan." Foley had to tell him that.
"You must be joking, Edward."
"Wish I was, man. But that's how it's going down."
"Ah. Well, what's life without a few complications? Any preferences how to get your Rabbit out?" He asked, not quite letting Foley know what he was thinking.
"That's for your guy Hudson in Budapest, I suppose. It's not my turf, not my place to tell him how to run his operation."
Haydock just nodded. It was one of those things that went without saying but had to be said anyway. "When?" he asked.
"Soon, as soon as possible. Langley's almost as hot for this as I am." And, he didn't add, it was sure as hell a way for him to make an early mark as Chief of Station Moscow.
"Rome, you're thinking? Sir Basil has been rattling my windows about that."
"Your Prime Minister interested?"
"About as much as your President, I should imagine. That play might well muddy the waters rather thoroughly."
"Big-time," Foley agreed. "Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads-up. Sir Basil will probably have a signal for you later today."
"Understood, Edward. When that arrives, I'll be able to begin taking action." He checked his watch—too soon to offer his guest a beer in the embassy pub. Pity.
"When you get authorization, give me a call. Okay?"
"Certainly. We shall get things sorted out for you, Ed. Andy Hudson's a good officer, and he runs a tight operation in Budapest."
"Great." Foley stood.
"How about a dinner soon?" Haydock asked.
"I guess we'd better do it soon. Penny looks about due. When will you be flying her home?"