Games Traitors Play

88

‘How did you know I was involved?’ Myers asked, sitting at the bank of computers. There had been two Russians waiting for him in his bedroom, one tall, the second one shorter with rimless glasses. The tall one had frisked him, while the other did the talking, although he wasn’t one for idle chatter. It took Myers a few minutes to be sure of his identity. It was Vasilli Grushko, London Rezident of the SVR. He had seen his photograph at work, intercepted occasional calls.

‘We have been following your friend Daniel Marchant for some time now,’ Grushko said.

‘Was it him who was taken? In London?’

Myers tried to prevent his left leg from shaking, but it was impossible. Instead, he bounced it up and down as if the movement was voluntary. At least they had stopped pointing the gun at his head. After frisking him, the weapons had been put away, but Myers was still all over the place, too many possible scenarios unfolding in his mind. The computers had already been turned on when he entered the bedroom. Had they hacked into GCHQ using his passwords? If they knew about his role with the MiGs, who had they told? Who else knew? He was just glad that he had gone to the bathroom when he first arrived, otherwise he would be pissing himself now.

‘Your concern is almost touching. He is fine. Unharmed.’

‘What do you want from me?’

‘He came to see you. At the Beehive pub near here. Marchant chose the location well, because it was busy, but we think you were talking about the MiGs. Now that we have discovered you bring your work home’ — Grushko nodded towards the bank of computers — ‘we know for certain that it was you who helped him.’

‘What do you want from me? Please. There was no harm. Nobody died. It was good publicity for Russia, your air force. Bloody lousy for ours. Air defences like a sieve.’

‘It is quite simple. We want you to help him again.’