Charlie Muffin: The Blind Run Part 18

'You!' demanded Charlie suddenly, gesturing to the man at the rear in the overchecked suit. 'What's the point I'm making?'

The man twitched, unhappy at the sudden, unwelcome attention. Blus.h.i.+ng at his inability like Popov had blushed before him the man said 'I'm not sure,' and stopped, miserably.

'Good!' praised Charlie, aware of the other man's look of surprise. 'You didn't mean it but that was exactly the lesson. Never make the mistake of trying to respond either fully or at once to any question. Always remember you're confused, that you don't understand. Always misunderstand and gain time from it.'

'You!' said Charlie, finger-pointing again and continuing the demands, this time to Natalia. 'What's been peculiar about everything I've said, so far today?'

The relief from everyone else in the room at having avoided such a question was palpable. Natalia showed no discomfort. Nor hurry, either. She actually looked down at her desk, considering the answers and then she came back to him and said, 'Defeat. Everything you've said has been directed towards our detection; the need for us satisfactorily to withstand investigation.'

Charlie's reactions were mixed. The first was a satisfaction of his own, that she'd got the answer right. Then there were others. Us, she'd said: the need for us satisfactorily to withstand investigation. Was Natalia really someone under consideration for overseas posting: someone who, when she was posted, he was going to betray? Just once, thought Charlie, he'd like there to be more answers than there were questions in a single day. 'Right,' he said. 'Exactly right.'

Natalia flushed, pleased, and Charlie was pleased, too.

'You!' he said, schoolmasterly again, to the man in grey whom he'd so far spared. 'What are you called?'

The man frowned and said, 'I'm sorry. I do not understand.'

'Good,' smiled Charlie. 'Very good. What is your name?'

'Valeri Pavlovich Vlasov,' said the man, grateful his test had come last, so that he'd had time to learn.

'So tell me, Valeri Pavlovich Vlasov. Why do you think I've been concentrating upon how to resist interrogation?'

The man's relief seeped away, like air from a balloon. 'Because it is important,' he blurted desperately.

'Why is it important?' pressed Charlie.

Recalling the earlier instructions, Vlasov said, 'To survive.'

'Should it have got this far?' said Charlie.

'I don't understand,' said the man, trying to flee up the already signposted escape route.

Charlie didn't allow him the escape, but he spread the question to involve everyone in the room. 'Why?' he said, again. 'Why do you imagine that I consider resistance so important, at our very first meeting? You!' He pointed to Natalia. 'Tell me what you think.'

There wasn't the hesitation this time. 'I don't think you've any confidence in our being able to escape detection,' she said simply. 'I think you imagine that we'd be swept up, almost as soon as we arrived.'

'You would,' said Charlie. 'I don't think any of you would stand a chance. You've been taught like animals, to perform tricks. Seals can balance b.a.l.l.s on their noses and dogs can balance on their hind legs providing the trick is always demanded in the same way, through the same formula. You've been taught in a formularised way and the easiest way to be detected is to behave to a formula. Agents behave to a formula; not ordinary people. Ordinary people the sort of people that you're expected to be make mistakes and get drunk and forget to pay the rent ...' Charlie raised his hand, seeing the look upon the faces of both Belik and Popov. 'Which is not a contradiction of what I said about being un.o.btrusive. It's in support of it. Ordinary, unsuspicious wallpaper-on-the-wall people do those things. No one hasn't ever forgotten to pay a bill or parked wrongly on a line or taken too much at a party. Who are the good guys, at a party? The drunks or the sober ones, who get remembered afterwards?'

'So what are you saying?' asked Natalia, who appeared to be emerging as the spokesman for the group.

'That's better,' praised Charlie, almost over-effusively. 'Turn as many questions back as you can. What I'm saying is that I think you've all got to relearn every one of you. I don't mean go back to the basic cla.s.ses and undergo every course again. I mean that having a.s.similated the courses, you've got to adapt what you've learned into what it's supposed to make you, a Westerner. And stop being Russians who've been taught to balance b.a.l.l.s on their noses, when the trick is demanded of them.'

Charlie's ability to describe how every one of them was dressed from their initial entry into the room wasn't a trick; not any longer, anyway. It had been, years ago, when the need was first explained to him, a conscious effort at memory but now it was instinctive. The conscious effort he was making was about their faces, faces he was later going to have to recall, to photofit artists so that complete reconstructions could be made and circulated throughout the security services, for them to be detected. He was fairly confident that he could do it already, from this first meeting. Every succeeding day was going to be an advantage. He said, 'I'm going to make you Westerners: instinctive, automatic, easily a.s.similated Westerners. There are going to be times when you think I am wasting your time ...' He glanced at Popov, who looked discomfited again. 'I won't be wasting your time. I'll be teaching you apparently stupid, inconsequential things and it's what appears stupid and inconsequential that will keep you safe from detection.' Charlie smiled around the room, the first time he had appeared to relax. Before they had time to get that impression, he said, 'All right. With one exception because it wasn't demanded you've all made a mistake. What was it?'

Yet again there were uncertain movements throughout the group, Natalia less than the others.

'You told me your names,' said Charlie. 'Because I'm standing here, at the head of the cla.s.s, you a.s.sumed I had authority the right to know and when I asked you responded to that authority. Weren't you all provided with pseudonyms, when you came here?'

It was a question for later, when he returned to England. While he was at Balas.h.i.+kha he would learn all he could about the training and the instruction. To know precisely how the Russians taught their agents would be invaluable.

From the people in front of him there were nods of agreement.

'Then they were provided for a reason,' said Charlie. 'For protection, even here. It's the same lesson as before; don't feel the need to respond. Until it becomes an automatic response, consciously look behind every question every instruction for a second or third or fourth reason for that question or instructions ...' Charlie hesitated, remembering the lessons he had learned at the knee of Sir Archibald Willoughby, the Director under whom he had worked for so long. Recalling one verbatim, Charlie said, 'There is never a straight line, in espionage. Always too many, conflicting lines.'

Charlie generalised for a further hour and it was a more subdued group that prepared to leave than the one that had entered. As they gathered their things, Charlie said to Natalia, 'Can I speak to you?'

The woman appeared embarra.s.sed at being finally singled out from the rest, smiling at them apologetically and then turning back to Charlie. When they were alone Charlie said, 'I was surprised.'

'So was I.'

'You didn't know?'

'Not that it would be you ... just that it was an extra course. Something special ...' She hesitated, smiling at him this time and said, 'Should I be looking for a second or third or fourth reason in the questions?'

He grinned back at her. 'Maybe we both should.'

'I don't know if it's possible but I think it would be best if I applied to be taken off the course, don't you?'

Did that mean she really was undergoing overseas instruction? He said, 'Would it really be difficult for you?'

'Obviously,' she said, appearing surprised at his question. 'Wouldn't it for you?'

'I don't know,' said Charlie. 'I don't think so.' Having re-established contact, he didn't want to lose it. He said, 'Why don't we talk about it further ... somewhere other than here?'

'I'm not sure that's a good idea, either.'

'We don't seem sure about anything, do we?'

'I think you upset everybody,' said Natalia.

'Seems to be a habit I have,' said Charlie.

'Having you here is an innovation, instructions from outside.'

Berenkov, Charlie presumed. He said, 'Resented?'

'The other instructors didn't appear very keen. Today's group were supposed to be graduate level.'

Charlie wished he could categorise Natalia's place in all this. He said, 'And supposed to test me?'

She nodded. 'You were very impressive.'

Charlie felt a physical reaction to her praise, a stomach tightening. He said, 'They weren't.'

'Maybe they thought it was going to be too easy. Relaxed too much.'

'That isn't any sort of excuse. Explanation even,' said Charlie, professionally.

Her face closed against him and Charlie wished he hadn't spoken so curtly. 'That wasn't meant to be a rebuke,' he said.

'I should be joining the others.'

'I can do it now,' said Charlie, purposely obtuse.

She frowned back at him. 'I don't understand.'

'During one of the debriefings I said I couldn't invite you out to dinner, because I didn't have any money. This job pays. What are you doing tonight?'

She smiled at him again, shaking her head. 'No,' she said.

'Why not?'

'You know why not.'

'No, I don't,' said Charlie, still intentionally awkward. If she refused him now then any subsequent refusal would be easier for her.

'It wouldn't look right.'

'Who'd be looking?' If they knew, they'd both probably be surprised, he thought.

'Going out to dinner in Moscow isn't easy, like it is in the West.'

She was weakening, Charlie realised. 'I'd still like to try,' he said. 'Please.'

Natalia hesitated. Then she said, 'All right.'

Charlie felt the stomach tightening come again.

Kalenin set out his miniature tanks to recreate Montgomery's confrontation in North Africa against Rommel, fully familiar with the ploys and the strategies of the battle. Having a.s.sembled them, he remained staring down. There had been a sandstorm, he remembered; a blinding, concealing sandstorm and Montgomery had utilised the advantage.

Was he being deflected by a sandstorm? wondered the KGB chairman. Kalenin knew he had done all the right things and made all the right moves to try to locate his traitor. But he still couldn't see anything. So what was he doing wrong? What was blinding him from looking in the right direction?

Kalenin turned away from his game, uninterested. The order had come from the Politburo for regular reports. Kalenin was aware that rarely at any time during his career had he been so exposed.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Charlie was happy to let Natalia lead in everything because attracted to her though he was and genuine though he believed her to be he didn't believe in coincidence, any more than he believed Father Christmas came down chimneys every December and he couldn't reconcile himself to her appearance at Balas.h.i.+kha. He was curious at her choice of the Rossiya because it was the hotel to which he'd gone after the rebellious outing which had included the GUM store, but pleased with the top storey restaurant because of its magnificent view of central Moscow. The wine list was restricted to products within the Soviet Union and he wondered what Berenkov would have ordered: at least, he thought, it prevented him making any mistakes. He selected a red, from Georgia, and it tasted good and he was relieved; he didn't want to show himself up in front of her. His att.i.tude which, objective as always, he recognised as one of nervousness intrigued Charlie because the nervousness wasn't because of his uncertainty about her true function but just about being in her company. Having been lucky with the wine he deferred to her over the food. They started with a.s.sorted cold fish and then goulash, which was excellent. The service was typically Russian, slow, but Charlie wasn't in any hurry and he welcomed the delay: before the goulash arrived, he'd ordered the second bottle of wine. The lecture-hall reservation remained initially between them, so that although Charlie had decided to let her lead in the choice of where and what to eat he had to prompt the conversation, coaxing her out, bit by bit. Almost at once, tauntingly, she asked from how many sides she should look at his questions and he extended one finger towards her and guessing the response she met hers with his and Charlie said it signified a pact, for neither to be suspicious of the other, comfortable with his own hypocrisy. Gradually she began to talk. She told him of her hometown of Penza but of moving to Moscow very young, within the first year of her university entrance, because the KGB personnel selectors had already received reports of her ability, particularly with languages. Charlie got the impression she clearly enjoyed being in the service, for the advantages it meant. She explained how the training had been extensive and her grades impressive, so impressive that the offer was made and accepted that she should extend her studies to include psychology, for the function for which she was ultimately groomed. Presented with the opening, Charlie asked outright whether that grooming was now being further extended to mean her posting abroad, the only explanation for her presence on the course. This time she offered her finger and Charlie, enjoying the game, touched back enjoying, too, the actual touch of her and she admitted it wasn't. Making no effort to conceal the pride Natalia said she was the senior psychologist in the debriefing section and that her appointment to the sessions was to provide the final a.s.sessment, on the suitability of the other five selected for overseas emplacement. Charlie's initial, abrupt, reaction was one of relief because it meant that at some time in the future he wouldn't be entrapping her, for arrest and imprisonment the awfulness of imprisonment that he had known in England or America. But at the same time that other part of his brain the never resting, never sleeping, never relaxing professional part saw the flaw.

'Then it didn't mean anything, did it?' he demanded.

She looked up at him, face creased with uncertainty. 'What didn't?'

'What you said in the lecture room, about applying to be taken off the course. Because you also said it was special, an innovation. There weren't any other courses to which you could be transferred.'

She smiled at him, admiringly. 'I also said you were impressive,' she said. 'I hoped you wouldn't remember.'

'Why not?'

'Because it was a lie. I meant what I said, about being surprised at seeing you when I walked into the hall today. I didn't know how to respond: I hadn't been given any warning. I don't know why they didn't warn me. It was stupid, not to have done so. And because I was uncertain, I just carried on with the charade, until I could get out to get some guidance.'

'From Krysin?'

'Yes,' she said.

'Did you tell him we were meeting tonight?'

She frowned again. 'Is there any reason why I shouldn't have done?'

Instead of answering her question, Charlie asked another. 'What would you have done if Krysin had said no, you couldn't come?'

'I told him as a matter of courtesy,' she qualified. 'I'm equal to Krysin, in rank. And influence. He hasn't the authority to forbid me.'

'What would you have done if he talked against it?' persisted Charlie.

Natalia looked down into her winegla.s.s. 'I don't know,' she admitted. 'I think I would have come, but I'm not sure.'

'So he could influence you?'

'Not about my private life, no,' she said in further qualification. 'I would have listened to Krysin if I'd thought my becoming involved with you could in any way have caused difficulty with the other five in the cla.s.s: they're the important consideration, not your or my social life.'

'Are we becoming involved,' seized Charlie.

'No,' she said, at once.

Almost too sharply, Charlie thought. Seeing the opening for an unasked question, Charlie said, 'Are you married?'

'Would it have any importance, if I were?'

'Wouldn't that be a decision for you?'

'Why?' she demanded. 'What a bourgeois question! What can conceivably be wrong in a married man or a married woman dining together?'

'The roles have reversed again,' said Charlie.

His evasion confused her, as it was supposed to do. 'What do you mean?'

'You're in charge again,' he said.

She smiled, reluctantly. 'Answer the question,' she insisted.

'No,' he said. 'There can be absolutely nothing wrong. Now answer mine is it happening?'