Free Red Star Falling: A Thriller by Brian Freemantle Page B

suggested Bland, from farther along the table.
    *   *   *
     
    The Cabinet Secretary’s preamble was much briefer than the preceding day’s, adding to the continuing official record with the Russian arrest of Robert Denning and Jeremy Beckindale and Moscow’s agreement to a diplomatic visit to the Manchester tourists. Glancing briefly at a slip of paper passed up from the secretariat, Bland concluded, ‘And there is a request from MI6 Director Gerald Monsford immediately to address this committee.’
    So close had Monsford put himself to her with his earlier chair shifting that Rebecca was aware of his left leg sometimes touching hers. There was none of the nervous twitching of the day before. The man’s briefcase remained unopened on the opposite side of his chair and there were no prompt notes in front of him.
    ‘I have a number of matters that I believe takes forward the concerns I expressed yesterday at my service’s penetration by foreign intelligence,’ began Monsford, leaning comfortably back in his chair. Following yesterday’s session, he continued, he had briefed the head of the security investigation within MI6. ‘Within three hours, forensic technicians discovered illegal apparatus connected to the personal recording equipment in my office. The official installation of my equipment was personally supervised by James Straughan. The concealed illegal apparatus was operated from Straughan’s private office. The only fingerprints upon it were those of James Straughan.…’ Monsford paused, allowing the reaction to move throughout the room. ‘Every conversation I have had over the last two months, either by telephone or with people in my office, has been illegally monitored and presumably passed on to whomever Straughan was working for. I have already ordered that all my audio records be scrutinized to learn the full extent of the potential damage.…’
    Of course there would have been equipment! thought Rebecca. How else could Straughan have made the incriminating copies they’d hoped to be their insurance against being caught up in whatever Monsford was planning. Why hadn’t she thought…? Thought what: done what? Rebecca fought against the panic, trying to calm herself. She hadn’t known where or how Straughan had rigged what he’d called his tie line. And even if she had, she wouldn’t have been able to dismantle it. There was no connection to her, she reasoned, snatching for reassurances. So she was still safe. And had to stay that way. She had to hear it all through: do nothing, say nothing, but think harder and better than she’d ever thought before.
    Directly across the table, Aubrey Smith had gradually, imperceptibly, reached out to grip Jane Ambersom’s arm, conscious of the furious vibration coursing through the woman, tightening a warning against another outburst.
    ‘… An even more recent indication,’ Monsford was saying. ‘Overnight a remark from Maxim Radtsic was isolated upon film. The reference is to a diversion presumably to be staged to facilitate his extraction. In the very early stages of the extraction of Natalia Fedova and her daughter, there was such discussion, which came to nothing. It was specifically in the context of Natalia and her daughter. I know nothing of a diversion in bringing Radtsic out. Radtsic is refusing to co-operate with us until his son is allowed to join them. After this meeting I am immediately going to pursue this distraction remark, not having the slightest idea to what it refers. About Radtsic—’
    ‘You can surely do more than question Radtsic?’ broke in Aubrey Smith, prepared from the earlier conference at Thames House. ‘He was brought out of Russia by the head of your Moscow rezidentura, Harry Jacobson, who was Radtsic’s control from the moment of Radtsic’s defection approach. It would have been Jacobson who talked to Radtsic of a diversion, wouldn’t it? We can bring Jacobson before this committee in person, as I intend