Breaking Cover

42

Laurenz was acting like a marriage guidance counsellor, trying to help a client understand that her marriage was over. He said, ‘Things change, Jasminder, and that includes relationships. Think of it like this: we’re entering a new phase. No longer lovers, it’s true, but still close. Terribly close.’

They were sitting in the lounge area of a Lear jet. The owner, a Russian Jasminder hadn’t seen during her brief stay in Bermuda, was not travelling with them; Laurenz said the jet would return for him the following day. So Jasminder and he had the cabin to themselves, and sat opposite each other in the white leather extra-wide seats by the wings. A steward had placed two glasses of champagne on the table in front of them, then retreated discreetly to the galley behind a curtain up by the cockpit. None of the rules of commercial aviation seemed to apply to private jets, for they had bypassed security checks and watched as their bags were put straight into the Lear jet’s hold.

Jasminder hadn’t touched her champagne. She watched Laurenz as he talked on. He didn’t seem aware that her love for him had turned to contempt. Though she was still struggling to take in what had happened to her, still stunned by the transformation in… everything in her life, one thing was clear in her mind: she despised this man. He had played on her emotions to exploit her and now she would do whatever she could to damage him.

After her traumatic encounter with Kozlov, she had been desperate to see Laurenz, hoping against hope that this nightmare would turn out to be just that – a bad dream – and that what Kozlov had said about Laurenz knowing everything that was happening to her would turn out to be a monstrous lie.

But when Laurenz had returned from Hamilton, she knew at once that Kozlov had been telling the truth. The man who came back to the bungalow was not the charming, loving figure she had fallen for, but a new Laurenz – one who greeted her with a distant, perfunctory smile and an air of calculated detachment.

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. There had been another awful dinner at the club, with Sam pretending to be her friend – Jasminder knew better – and Laurenz placed yet again far down the table. She had been unable to eat a thing, sitting there nauseated by the smell of the heaped plates of food and the great goblets of drink that the men were liberally swilling down, thinking of the threat to little Ali. She had tried to stay awake that night, determined to question Laurenz about what had happened, but he had remained behind at the club and she had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, feeling utterly miserable and deeply scared, before he returned.

‘We’ll still be seeing a lot of each other,’ Laurenz told her, as the plane taxied down the runway. ‘In fact, it’s crucial that we do.’

She spoke at last. ‘I don’t know how you think I’m going to get all this information you want. I’ve already told you that I don’t have that kind of access.’

‘But you’re well placed to get it.’ He spoke loudly, to be heard over the noise of the engines as the jet accelerated forward.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Shock was turning to anger now. ‘You know nothing about my work. You’ve completely misled that hideous Koslov, just to boost your own position with whoever it is you really work for. How dare you tell me what I can do when I tell you I can’t?’

‘Of course you can. You just need to use your imagination a bit… and I’m going to help you with that.’ He sighed as though confronted with a stubborn child. ‘Jasminder, you are highly intelligent and very attractive. You must know that.’

‘Don’t you patronise me! I thought you were something different, someone to be admired, and I fell for you, I’ll admit that. But now I know better – you are a ruthless, dishonest bastard and your friend Koslov is worse. If I do anything it will be for Ali – certainly not for you.’

Laurenz shrugged his shoulders as the plane lifted off. It shuddered briefly as it hit a patch of low-lying cloud, then stabilised as they climbed steeply into the clearer sky above. He said, ‘Have it your own way.’

She went on, ‘But I don’t know how you expect me to get hold of all this stuff. What I said to Koslov was true. I don’t see all the things he thinks I do. His list is ridiculous.’

‘Beautiful and intelligent women wield great power. There can’t be many men who wouldn’t be attracted to you.’

‘So what do you expect me to do – seduce C? I happen to know he’s happily married.’

To her great irritation, Laurenz laughed. ‘That’s more like it! This is all a bit of a game, you know. The sooner you see that, the easier it will be for all of us.’

‘Okay,’ said Jasminder, not meaning this at all. ‘What’s the plan? How do you want me to proceed?’ She hated saying the words, but reminded herself that the only reason she was doing this was to keep Ali safe. She was going to look for every chance she could to get back at this man.

‘I need to know everything that comes across your desk. Understood? Everything. And you need to start making friends at work – if necessary, intimate friends.’ His meaning was clear.

She said, ‘It’s not that easy.’

‘Of course it is. I’m sure MI6 people socialise with each other all the time. They have to – all people in intelligence work do. It’s so much easier that way: it means they don’t have to lie about their job, or stay quiet while other people talk about theirs. You’ll soon make lots of friends at Vauxhall; you just need to be more outgoing – and obviously single.’

She was single now, thought Jasminder bitterly. She had gone to Bermuda for a weekend with her boyfriend, and was coming home with a spy.

Laurenz said, ‘I need to know who you have told about us – that you’ve been seeing me.’

When Jasminder hesitated, he said impatiently, ‘Come on. Cooperate. Remember your niece.’

‘I told my mother I had met someone – that was when I Skyped her last. She’s in India. She doesn’t know your name; I was waiting to tell her.’ Her mother was always hoping Jasminder would settle down with a nice Indian boy, and pretending someone called ‘Laurenz Hansen’ was an Indian wasn’t going to work.

‘Who else?’

‘I told my friend Emma.’

‘Ah, yes, the worthy Emma. I don’t think we have to worry about her. I never met her. You must just tell her it didn’t work out with us. What about that friend in Trafalgar Square?’ He was watching her intently.

‘That was Peggy Kinsolving. I told you about her.’

‘Yes, you did. She works for the other mob across the river. Does she know my name?’

Jasminder felt his eyes on her. ‘I can’t remember, but I suppose so.’

‘Have you spoken to her recently?’

‘No. I rang her last week and left a message, but she didn’t reply. I was a bit surprised; I thought I’d try again when I got back. I like her.’

‘Good. I want you to ring her. But I also want you to tell her how upset you are. You and I have split up. We’re still good friends; we’ll still see each other occasionally; but the sex wasn’t working. Have you got that? And don’t think of telling her anything else – like the truth – or I’ll know.’

‘Yes, but she’ll probably be surprised. I told her it was getting serious. And what do you mean, you’ll know?’

He smiled. ‘Don’t think you’re our only source in Britain,’ he said. ‘We have many eyes and ears. So just blame me for the break up – with my divorce pending, I realised I shouldn’t rush into things. I needed time on my own. She’ll understand, I’m sure.’

‘Do you want me to say the same thing to Emma?’

‘Yes, and to anyone else you might have told about me. We’re just friends now… mates as the English like to say… and that will be good enough cover for our meetings.’

‘Some friend!’ She gently stroked the side of her face where Koslov had hit her. It was very tender to the touch, though so far there was no visible bruising. ‘I wish you’d never saved me from the men in that park in Islington. But I suppose that was all a set-up.’ In her mind, Jasminder had been going over the whole of her relationship with Laurenz. ‘I didn’t even work for MI6 in those days. Why did you choose me?’

‘We saw your potential,’ he replied with a grin. ‘But don’t try to work it out. Just focus on how you are going to get the material we want. I’ll be helping you work out your plan at our meetings.’

‘Meetings?’

‘Yes. I’ll want to see you regularly – sometimes at my flat, sometimes in other places. The only difference now is that I’ll be your mentor, not your lover – though we could have sex sometimes if you liked.’

Jasminder shuddered but didn’t reply. She felt sick at the thought of his touching her. The sex, like everything else, had been an act. He had never cared about her at all. He had been reporting everything they’d done to that dreadful Koslov. Between them they’d been manipulating her into a position where she had no choice but to cooperate. Looking at the cool and unemotional expression on his face now, she resolved again to do her very best to destroy him.

Laurenz turned to her and said, ‘Now I think you should try and get some sleep. These chairs are quite comfortable, and you can recline them almost back into a bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow, and I want you to hit the ground running.’