37 Hours

‘Yes,’ answered the colonel. ‘With the codes in the briefcase our brave captain accidentally dropped in a kilometre of water.’

Nadia had to admit, they’d come so close, and then lost their one quick way of disarming the warhead. She could understand the colonel’s frustration – and there would be hell to pay when they got back. The way the colonel was baiting Sergei would be nothing compared to what would happen back in Moscow.

Sergei’s face tightened as he glared at the colonel. ‘Easy for you to say, sat in a nice warm room while we were fighting for our lives.’

‘Frankly it would look better in my report if you hadn’t let go. Or if you’d left it in the damned submarine, then at least we might have a chance of salvaging it!’

Nadia watched the muscles on Sergei’s forearms go rock hard. She sought to defuse the situation. ‘Surely they can’t be the only codes?’

Sergei brooded for a moment then nodded. ‘There are backup codes in a vault in the Kremlin. I know which warhead was taken, so if we find it – and that’s a big ‘if’ – we can make it safe.’

‘And next time,’ the colonel said, leaning forward, planting his forefinger firmly on the tabletop, ‘I will have the case.’ He leaned back, and waved a hand dismissively. ‘Our forces are sweeping the area. There’s a chance we’ll catch them with it, whoever they are.’

Sergei stared hard at him. ‘Probably it was airlifted away long before we surfaced. It could be anywhere by now, flying low.’

The colonel shook his head dismissively, and held up a palm. ‘No. They would have landed somewhere close. We have roadblocks creating a cordon for a five-hundred-mile radius on land.’

The emerald eyes of the colonel’s aide met with Nadia’s as if to say, here we go again. Posturing and denial. They had lost a nuke. A head would have to roll. The problem was that there was a chance of Nadia and Katya somehow being dragged down with whoever was going to take the rap.

‘The tattoos,’ Nadia said, suddenly remembering.

‘What?’ the colonel replied, not hiding his irritation.

‘At least two of them – the terrorists, or whatever they were – had a tattoo like a lizard.’

Sergei stared at her, while the colonel threw up his hands.

‘Why is she here?’ he said.

‘The client for the Rose,’ she began, then paused. ‘How good are your files on what happened on the Chinese cargo ship?’

The colonel looked flustered, his cheeks reddening slightly. This was his territory, but he clearly had no idea what she was talking about. Sergei watched her, the hint of a smile there, as usual. Was he born that way? Wouldn’t surprise her.

‘Cheng Yi’s last words,’ she said, then closed her eyes to recall them exactly as he had spoken them. ‘He is blind, but can see. Water and air are the same to him. He will find you in the darkness. You will not hear him when he comes for you.’

‘Again, seriously, why is she still here?’ the colonel exclaimed.

‘Not a lizard,’ Bransk said. ‘A salamander. Some live underground in watery caverns. Not exactly blind, but they can survive in permanent darkness.’ He stroked his beard. ‘There is one who goes by this name. He has been in the shadows for years.’ His dark eyes bore into her. ‘You think he is the same client?’

She didn’t really know, but it seemed to fit. She nodded.

‘And how does that help us exactly?’ the colonel said, arms folded.

Nadia continued. ‘The client – let’s say it is this Salamander for now – wanted to attack the UK two years ago, via a nuclear strike. If it is the same man, then he now has a nuclear weapon to carry out the strike, to finish what he began.’

The colonel shrugged. ‘Nice story, but that’s all –’

‘Have there been any announcements by terrorist organisations, claiming what they’ve done? Any demands made, discreetly to the government, or even publicly?’

The colonel said nothing.

Nadia leaned forward, in his direction. ‘Because it’s the same client. The warhead isn’t for ransom, or as a political bargaining chip. He means to use it.’

No one spoke for a while, until Katya chipped in. ‘My sister can talk to MI6,’ she said. ‘By now they must have investigated every possible lead.’

Nadia stared at Katya, as if she was seeing a new side to her. But work with MI6? They’d imprisoned her these past two years. She raised an eyebrow and mouthed spasiba to her sister, hoping she’d pick up the sarcasm.

Sergei addressed the colonel, his tone conciliatory. ‘At the moment, the minute we land, we will both be taken into custody for questioning, because we have nothing to offer. I have lost a submarine; together we have lost a nuclear weapon. Our careers will be the least of our worries.’

The female lieutenant joined in. ‘Sir. If this Salamander has been operating undetected for two years, his influence may well reach inside the Kremlin. Imagine if you were the one to uncover him.’

Nadia was impressed. This woman’s career instincts were pretty slick.

The colonel reddened slightly again, then turned to Nadia. ‘Very well, Miss Laksheva. Tell us everything you know.’

She did, including the name of the man they would need to discreetly contact via a covert channel to MI6. Jake Saunders. The colonel’s aide said it would take a day to set up a telecom.

‘We will put you in military accommodation, our barracks –’

‘No,’ Nadia said. ‘The Radisson overlooking Gorky Park. And my money gets wired to my account before I talk.’

The colonel looked aghast. ‘You don’t even have an account.’

Katya smiled. ‘The banks open in four hours.’

‘Just do it,’ Sergei said.

‘Very well,’ the colonel said. ‘But you work for me, Nadia. As a consultant. And we have recently acquired files on your activities in Sebastopol three years ago.’

She swallowed. She’d been there on an op for Kadinsky. In order to save one of her team from being killed, she’d shot two guards. Very carefully, so they would live.

He folded his arms. ‘When the warhead is recovered, I can make those files go away. But if you fail…’

***

They gave her a decent room, a junior suite overlooking the park. Katya was on the same floor with Bransk. Sergei… She had no idea where he was. She wondered if he might come to see her, but imagined he’d have his hands full.

Someone at the door. Three sharp raps, then a quieter one, half a beat later. Katya. Nadia checked the eyehole anyway, then swung open the door. Her sister beamed.

‘Which first, ice cream or the swings?’

Nadia grabbed her jacket, and they headed for their favourite place in Moscow.

***

The sun lazed high in the sky, while they sat face to face at a small iron table on the boardwalk next to Gorky Park’s principal lake, watching the swans. People wandered past, a few single parents with toddlers, but mostly working people taking in the air during their lunchtime break: men in suits striding along at a brisk pace, women in twos or threes circuiting the lake more slowly, in deep conversation, and pairs of lovers dotted here and there holding hands or kissing.

She told Katya that one of the men on the sub seemed to know their father. Katya was dismissive until Nadia shared the part about missing her like the rain.