Games Traitors Play

81

‘Your brother has excelled himself,’ Primakov said, walking around the bare hangar at Kotlas that had been Dhar’s home for the past month. ‘Do you not want for any more comforts?’

‘I have all that I need,’ Dhar said dispassionately. He was sitting at a bare wooden table, a copy of the Koran open in front of him. The austerity made Primakov crave a drink, a nip of whisky, but he had learned not to offend Dhar on the few occasions they had been alone together.

‘He has proved that it is too easy to penetrate British airspace. You will have no problems.’

‘Won’t they be more alert now?’

‘If Marchant can knock out the system once, it can be done again.’

‘When is he arriving?’

‘We will lift him tonight. The Americans are closing in on him.’

‘And you are sure?’

‘Sure?’

‘About Daniel Marchant.’

Sometimes, Primakov found Dhar’s stare too chilling. He looked away, out of the window, steeling himself, then turned back to face him, hands clutched tightly behind his back.

‘Your brother is ready.’