No Survivors

78

The MI6 agent in the car behind Alix had finally got through to headquarters. His boss didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Have you got the document?” Grantham asked.

“ ’Fraid not. Carver never left the hotel. The woman, Petrova, came out with a group of men. She didn’t appear to be under any duress. She was holding a sealed file. I presume that was what we were after.”

“Sod it… where are you now?”

“Trailing Petrova. She’s in a car with one of Vermulen’s men. The rest are in a van, immediately ahead of her. Hang on… they’re turning off the road, entering Cannes Mandelieu Airport. Most of the traffic here is private, or charter aviation. Do you want me to follow them in?”

“Absolutely. If she’s flying out, I want the registration number of the plane. We’ll track it from here.”

The agent ended the call and drove into the airport complex.

In London, Grantham put a call through to the assistant cultural attaché at the Russian Federation Embassy. Regular diplomatic and consular business ended at 4:30 p.M. on weekdays, but the assistant attaché wasn’t a regular diplomat. As the FSB resident in London, his country’s most senior agent in the United Kingdom, he was open all hours.

“Koyla,” said Grantham, “I need you to do me a favor. Get me a number for Deputy Director Zhukovskaya. Tell her we need to speak personally. It’s a matter of extreme importance for our two services. And it requires immediate action.”