Bomb Grade

chapter 38

C harlie had known for a long time that for personal reasons it was going to be the worst resolve to anything in which he’d ever been professionally involved, except obviously what had happened to Edith, which was more personal than professional. There’d been vindictive satisfaction destroying the killers who’d shot Edith. There wasn’t satisfaction now, at Aleksai Popov’s killing, although neither was there the slightest regret at the man, who’d used Sasha like he had and Natalia like he had and who’d clearly intended killing him, being blasted faceless. That perfectly fitted Charlie Muffin’s eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth interpretation. Charlie’s compassion was for Natalia.

Like it was for James Kestler’s death. The young American had been brash and gauche and unthinking and at the very beginning a total pain in the ass who’d caused a lot of inconvenience and even been a professional encumbrance, but it had all been forgivable – even the encumbrance – and Charlie had long ago forgiven the man. He’d liked him. Kestler would never have been a brilliant agent, perhaps not even a good one, because at the bottom line he’d been too genuinely decent and nice and honest. Charlie still didn’t have a clear idea of what his FBI problem had been – just that he’d been the shuttlecock and that Rupert Dean had somehow taken the racquets away – but Kestler would have been a coerced player. He guessed Kestler would have considered his silver-spoon Washington connections an embarrassing disadvantage, not a benefit.

All of which were personal feelings. Charlie knew that publicly everything would all be massaged into an overwhelming success. The Germans would have their sensational trial – maybe more than one – after throwing diplomatic niceties out the window, and Iraq would be the pariah and the whole Middle East trade would be further disrupted by the trial evidence of Ivan Raina. Russia’s foremost Mafia Family was wrecked, although it would rebuild over time, like all established organized crime groups. They still didn’t know precisely how much nuclear material had been lost – although they might after the interrogation of Petr Gusev that was shortly to start – but it was nothing like the original estimate of two hundred and fifty kilos. And according to the telephone conversation Charlie had insisted upon with Rupert Dean in London, before agreeing to be medically checked by a doctor for the unfelt lacerations from shattered glass, the department’s FBI-functioning future – and his in it, in Moscow – was irrevocably established.

Charlie winced through the administration of antiseptic and refused the offered tranquillizer although shock was still shaking through him, because he needed to remain clear-headed.

‘It’s a mistake not to take them,’ insisted the doctor.

‘This one I can avoid,’ said Charlie. There were a lot he hadn’t, but then there usually were. One day, perhaps, he’d get everything right the first time.

He was certainly determined to get everything right – answer the outstanding questions – with Petr Tukhonovich Gusev. He’d been surprised the Germans had agreed to his leading this virtually instant interrogation, although after Dmitri Fomin’s official intercession they needed an immediate admission to keep the Militia colonel in custody. It had been Schumann who’d been Charlie’s advocate – like he’d pressed Charlie’s idea of supposedly involving the two Russians at Schonefeld, expecting them to make incriminating errors – arguing Charlie was the best person to achieve the necessarily quick confession, because of his complete knowledge of the investigation, in every country.

Dmitri Fomin had insisted on attending the interrogation as an observer, just as he had insisted upon talking to Gusev in his cell upon arriving thirty minutes earlier. Charlie had hoped the presidential aide would have watched through one of the mirrored screens but the tall, aloof man followed Gusev into the same interrogation cell in which Ivan Raina had been questioned, where the recording equipment was still installed. Because they hadn’t expected a fourth person there was a delay while another chair was brought in.

Even before he sat, the head of the Moscow Militia said, ‘I would like the recording equipment started,’ and when Charlie obliged, went on, ‘I want officially to protest my arrest and detention. It is totally without justification and I demand my immediate release.’

There’d been a lot of holding cell rehearsal between the two Russians, Charlie realized. He looked at Fomin and wondered if the investigation was going to be completely solved. Charlie said, ‘Working with Stanislav Georgevich Silin, the former boss of bosses of the Dolgopmdnaya Mafia Family, and with Aleksai Semenovich Popov, operational commander of the antinuclear smuggling division of the Russian Interior Ministry, you organized the robbery of a nuclear transport train at Pizhma and were responsible for the theft of approximately two hundred and fifty kilos of highly enriched, weapons-graded plutonium 239. You are also responsible for or involved in a number of murders. Just as you were prepared at Schonefeld today to kill a man known as Ari Turkel, believing he could identify you in connection with the Pizhma theft.’

Gusev spluttered an incredulous laugh. ‘That is total and absurd fabrication.’

Fomin shook his head. ‘I demand proof of these ridiculous accusations. Unless it’s produced immediately I demand the release of Colonel Petr Gusev.’

Unspeaking, Charlie offered the single sheet of paper to Gusev.

Fomin said, ‘What is that?’

‘The record of a deposit account at the main office of Credit Suisse, in Zurich, in the sum of $8,000,000,’ identified Schumann. ‘It’s a joint signatory account, in the names of Petr Tukhonovich Gusev and Aleksai Semenovich Popov. We have bank-guaranteed examples of the signatures of both. It was opened three weeks before the Pizhma robbery by Stanislav Silin, who held another account there, jointly in the names of himself and Ivan Raina, whom as you know we have in custody on charges of smuggling plutonium from that robbery. In accordance with Swiss banking practice for accounts held by overseas clients, the Popov-Gusev records also list passport numbers. We have already compared Popov’s passport, which we took two hours ago from his body at Schonefeld.’

Fomin stared sideways at Gusev, switching his outrage. ‘Explain this!’

‘I did not…’ began Gusev, spiritedly, but then he coughed, as if something abruptly jammed his throat, and then he sagged for a brief moment, no more than seconds, but Charlie thought the man had ingested a poison and that they were going to witness a suicide but Gusev coughed again, clearing the obstruction, but the false protest drained from him. ‘It was so good, so perfect,’ he said. ‘But we misjudged too much: we believed Silin could stay in control of the Dolgoprudnaya, which he thought he could if the robbery was a success. And then there was the satellite…’ He looked bitterly at Charlie. ‘… the satellite and how you used it. Realizing akrashena meant there had to be official involvement… That frightened us most of all.’

‘Is that why you never challenged me on it, to avoid drawing attention to yourself? Hoping I’d think it came from the military.’

‘Aleksai Semenovich said it would never be traced to us: that too many other people knew so we should just ignore it.’

If they were going to get a confession it might as well be a full one, Charlie decided. ‘What was more important, carrying out the robbery? Or using it to discredit myself and the American…?’ Charlie paused. ‘… And General Fedova?’

Gusev looked at Charlie warily. ‘The robbery, for me. Both, for Aleksai Semenovich. He had it all worked out.’

Charlie thought he had now, too. He’d been guessing, making assumptions, but it was clearing in his mind. He still needed more guidance, to avoid making a mistake. ‘Tell us the sequence. Starting with you and Silin.’

‘We’d known each other for years. Worked together: his territory was my area. It was a good arrangement. I knew Silin had traded nuclear: he had a contact at Gorkiy. We didn’t interfere: we got our share. Then Aleksai Semenovich started to talk of getting into the business ourselves: becoming millionaires. That’s how it began, just a nuclear robbery but a big one…’

‘Which is why Oskin was posted to Kirs?’ interrupted Charlie, wanting to get it all.

Gusev nodded. ‘Aleksai Semenovich was in charge of nuclear operations: he knew all the plants that were being decommissioned and chose Kirs. So he sent Oskin to Kirov, to do the groundwork…’

‘… And Oskin put Lvov into the plant?’ anticipated Charlie, confidently.

There was a further nod from the Russians. ‘It was they who decided it would be easier to stop the train at Pizhma rather than attack Plant 69. Which it was. But then you were appointed. Popov didn’t like that. He didn’t think much of the American but he said he knew all about you…’ There was a contemptuous snicker. ‘And he did. He said everyone would start setting up if you had any success. So you had to be made to look stupid.’

What was there for Popov to know all about him? It would be wrong to break the flow now, but he wouldn’t forget it. ‘So the phantom robbery was set-up?’

There was another snicker. ‘Actually by Popov, the man supposed to be stopping it. That’s what he went to Kirov for and then took the woman up there and made her think she was part of something important, like you all thought you were part of something important and it was all bullshit, absolute bullshit.’

The woman, picked out Charlie, offended. ‘Like the interrogations were all bullshit, people knowing nothing, so whatever General Fedova did would fail?’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Gusev. ‘Like we thought we could make your ridiculous sting idea fail, putting people around you to tell us all you were doing.’

‘And he did ensure that people knew she’d failed,’ intruded the presidential aide, suddenly.

‘What?’ queried Charlie.

‘He criticized General Fedova from the very beginning,’ disclosed Fomin. ‘Complaining reports, sent over her head. Particularly about the Shelapin and Agayans debriefings. That they were pointless: got nowhere. That she should be removed from the investigation entirely.’

‘Like you would have got nowhere if you’d concentrated on Moscow, which is what we’d planned…’ picked up Gusev, shaking his head. ‘The fucking satellite!’

‘We’re losing the sequence,’ stopped Charlie. ‘Kirs became a total decoy, like the finding of the lorries and some canisters were decoys, but what about the Agayans and Shelapin Families? Why them? Just convenience, because the stuff had to be planted on some group?’

‘Part of the fighting within the Dolgoprudnaya that we didn’t take enough notice of. Agayans and Shelapin were siding with Sobelov, although they’re personally at war. So Silin, through whom we were going to traffic what we got, wanted to harass them: teach them who was the stronger. That’s why we had Oskin approach them, for the Kirs raid. That was all a trick: we could orchestrate everything they did.’

‘Who killed Agayans? And why?’

‘I don’t know. Nothing to do with us. The story is that he knew people, in the Prosecutor’s office, who were afraid he might talk. He threatened to, apparently.’

‘Was Lvov going to talk?’

‘He was going…’ started Gusev and stopped, just as abruptly.

The wrong approach would destroy the admission, letting the man retreat. Which way? ‘He’d already gone, hadn’t he? Gone across to Sobelov? Like Ranov had gone across to Sobelov. But Lvov was important. Four of the containers seized in the first interception here were empty, but they had markings from the Kirs plant. The only person they could have come from to enable Sobelov to make the switch was from someone inside the plant. Which was Lvov. But Sobelov had eight containers, to set himself up in the nuclear business. So he switched another four of the consignment which went to Iran, via Odessa.’

‘I don’t know about that.’

‘But you killed him, didn’t you?’ demanded Charlie, harsh-voiced. ‘As a warning to Oskin and when you thought Oskin might defect you killed him, too. And his family, obscenely. Did you rape Lvov’s girls yourself? Or just pass them around among the Militia from Kirov who helped you?’

‘I didn’t do any of that! And you can’t prove it.’

‘We can,’ said Charlie, looking to Fomin. ‘The bullets that killed them will have been recovered, during the autopsies. Like the bullet that killed the Shelapin man in whose garage you dumped the plutonium cylinders as part of your diversion. They’ll match ballistically, won’t they, Petr Tukhonovich?’

Gusev’s throat worked but initially he couldn’t speak. Then he said, ‘Aleksai Semenovich! He organized it. Everything. Popov told me what to do, always…’

‘Did he tell you to come in so closely after us today?’ demanded Schumann. That wasn’t how we planned it, was it? You had to wait until everything was secure, like the American had been told to wait but ran in after you…’

Gusev pointed a wavering finger at Charlie. ‘He said he guessed from what you said when we arrived that Turket knew who we were!’

‘So Turkel had to die as well?’ said Charlie. He’d quite recovered from the warehouse assault – forgotten any physical part of it – his mind icily sharp. He had to lead up to it and he’d been given the way. His voice as cold as his mind, Charlie said, ‘Popov knew all about it? That’s what you told me. “He said he knew all about you.” What did he know about me, Petr Tukhonovich? And how?’

The smirk came back, the expression of a lost man lashing out in desperation. ‘Everything. Your phone’s tapped, in that fancy apartment. The woman’s, too, long before she thought it was done. He read your KGB record and got the baby’s birth certificate and the record of the woman’s divorce and her husband’s death certificate. Everything! And he knew every time you met outside. Had photographs, in the botanical gardens. He was going to use them and the tape of your telephone conversations to show she was your spy, if the other ways to get rid of her didn’t work. It was obvious he’d get her job.’

‘General Fedova was told her phone was being monitored after the threat to her daughter. Was that a way of trying to get rid of her, to make her resign, through fear?’

‘And it worked! She’d told him she was going quit.’

‘It had to be you who made the threat. Popov was with her at the apartment and the only other person could have been you.’

‘Popov told me what to say: wrote it down,’ said Gusev, defensively.

‘That was a panicked mistake, involving the child,’ said Charlie. ‘Narrowed down who it could be far too much, although it was clever of Popov to be with her when the call came.’

Schumann leaned forward, picking up the bank deposit. ‘What’s the benefit of having money in Switzerland when you live in Russia?’

‘Run money,’ admitted Gusev. ‘That’s why it was so important for us to get here, to find out what all the evidence was: be in court to listen to anything that might emerge. We were ready to run, if there was the slightest danger.’

‘He was going to marry General Fedova,’ said Charlie, quietly.

‘Only if she’d quit and he got the job. But not, obviously, if we had to run.’ The man moved his head. ‘Imagine it, him the head of the entire nuclear anti-smuggling division and me the head of the Militia in Moscow. It would have been fantastic!’

Fomin grated his chair back and stood. ‘I officially withdraw the Russian protest to this arrest. And waive any diplomatic rights and requests involving his trial.’ The man hesitated. ‘And apologies.’

‘Bastard! Lying, fucking bastard! Why?’

‘Too much could have gone wrong: too much did go wrong. The plutonium could have got through.’

‘Poisoning – killing – people as it went. Which wouldn’t have stopped a device being made because there were some that were still sealed!’

‘The source wouldn’t have been trusted again.’ And somehow at the trial at which Popov and Gusev would have been feted as honest Russians he would have made the suggestion in his own evidence that they were the two who had sabotaged the shipment to mark them out for the vengeance pursuit from Baghdad.

‘It was murder!’ said Hillary, disbelievingly.

‘All three died in the shootout. And they were killers.’

‘Their dying another way isn’t any defence! And a court decides whether killers die, not some self-appointed vigilante.’

‘It’s over,’ said Charlie.

‘You’re right,’ said Hillary. ‘There’s an embassy plane coming in to take Kestler’s body back to Washington. I’m going on it. And I’m going to quit, like Natalia.’ Her anger suddenly went. ‘Poor Natalia!’

‘Goodbye then.’

‘Don’t say you’ll keep in touch!’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ assured Charlie. ‘Safe trip.’

‘It will be. You won’t be on it.’