Spycatcher (13 page)

Eighteen

T
he following morning Will and Roger entered Croatia. They took a taxi from the country's main airport in outer Zagreb, and within twenty minutes they had arrived at the five-star Regent Esplanade, on the city's Antuna Mihanovićeva. Roger got out of the car first and walked quickly into the imposing hotel. Will stayed in the vehicle, fiddling with bills to pay for the drive. When he was satisfied that Roger was in position, he handed the cash across to the driver, grabbed a bag, and made his own way into the Regent.

Will looked around the elegant, spacious reception area and spotted Lana in a corner sofa area. He walked casually up to her and kissed her on both cheeks. He had a smile fixed on his face and hoped that to anyone else in the hotel he looked like Lana's husband or lover.

When they were seated, Will said quietly, “You've checked in?”

“Yes.” Lana gestured to take in their surroundings. “I've never stayed in a place like this. My room is lovely.”

“Don't get too comfortable. You won't be here long.”

She was dressed in a suit with a short, boxy jacket, a slim skirt, and leather pumps, with a gold silk scarf carefully wrapped around her throat. Her hair was pinned up high to reveal her stunning Arabic features. He felt instantly attracted to her and for a moment wondered how it would feel to genuinely be Lana's lover. He decided it would feel good.

“Do I have your approval?” Lana raised an eyebrow, crossed her legs, and placed her hands in her lap.

“You fit right in here.” He reached down to his side, picked up his small bag, and swung it across to the floor by Lana's feet. “I bought you some gifts.”

Lana looked at the bag and then smiled at Will.

He wagged a finger and smiled. “There's nothing in that bag to get too excited about. While you're here, you need money and communications equipment, so I've treated you to a laptop, a cell phone, a credit card in your name, and three thousand dollars. I've also enclosed my contact details.” He smiled wider. “I did, however, throw in a gold necklace for no reason other than to make you feel positive thoughts toward me.”

“Positive thoughts?” Lana smoothed a hand over her hair and frowned. “Why am I here?”

Will checked his watch, even though he knew exactly what time it was. “It's nearly nine
A.M.
, meaning the place you need to go to is open.” He withdrew from an inner jacket pocket a folded sheet of plain paper, an envelope with a printed name and address on its cover, a fountain pen, and another sheet containing the words Lana needed to copy. He carefully placed all of it on the coffee table between the two of them.

Lana picked up the sheet containing the words and silently read its contents. Then she sighed and picked up the pen. Her hand shook as she did so.

I would like the contents of this letter to be communicated to a dear old friend.

My friend is a Persian man who knew me during troubled times in Central Europe. I helped him with his dangerous tasks, and then one day he suddenly disappeared. I believed he must have been killed, and for years I have mourned his absence from my life.

Something has happened, though, which has given me hope that my friend may not be dead. A British man who works with secrets approached me nine days ago at my home in Paris. The man told me that my friend was still alive and now held a very senior and powerful position within the Iranian military. The man said that he wanted to capture my friend in order to prevent something bad from happening in the United States or Great Britain. The man asked me questions about my friend. The British man gave me his own name and contact details and said he would return to speak to me again soon.

I am scared. I have fled my Paris home, even though in doing so I have left an ill mother alone. I have traveled eastward to put distance between me and the secret British man, although I am sure he will find me if he wishes to do so.

But I hope that my old friend can find me first. It is my hope that my name is still on your records and can be linked to my old friend so that this communiqué can be passed to him with urgency. It is my hope that he replies to this letter. For the time being, I can be found at the Regent Esplanade hotel in Zagreb.

If my friend is alive, I cannot bear the thought that he may be captured and incarcerated or murdered. I am willing to help prevent that from happening. I am willing to tell him all that I have learned from the British man. I am willing to give him details about the British man so that he may be seized. I will do so if my friend will do something for me in return. Please tell my old friend that I wish to be with him again.

Yours,

Miss Lana Beseisu

W
ill pressed his cell phone against his ear and listened to Roger's words.

“I watched her go into the building. She's now back at her hotel.”

Will nodded. “Good. When are your men joining you?”

“They'll be with me in one hour.”

“All right. Then your first primary objective has commenced. Even though she'll be unaware of it, your team needs to stay around her day and night.”

Will closed down the phone and tapped fingers against the inner door of his airport-bound taxi. Lana had hand-delivered the letter to the Iranian embassy in Zagreb. It was addressed to the attention of the defense attaché of the embassy, the IRGC man whom Harry had identified. Will hoped the man would realize the importance of the letter and immediately communicate its contents to the IRGC headquarters in Iran. If he did so, it should take the IRGC minutes to link Lana Beseisu to Megiddo. In turn, Will hoped that Megiddo would feel he had no alternative other than to respond to the letter in order to ascertain whether his operation against the West was completely compromised. He hoped that Megiddo was not based in faraway Iran but instead was close by in Central or Eastern Europe. However, Will knew that so much now rested on hope itself. He breathed deeply and for the first time in days felt that he was no longer in total control of events.

W
ill sat in the Zurich safe house, opened the laptop, and read Lana's e-mail.

Dear Nicholas,

I have received a reply. What should I do?

Love, Lana

Patrick emerged with a mug of coffee and a serious expression on his face. “There are no more flights back to Zagreb for at least eight hours.”

Will checked his watch. “It's not ideal, but find out which member of Roger's team is on rest and get him to bring the letter to me.”

He typed on the laptop before Patrick could respond.

Dear Lana,

At seven-thirty this morning, please go to your hotel's 1925 Lounge. The place should be empty, but please choose a corner seating area with a table. Place the letter response on the table and leave the bar no later than seven-forty-five.

Yours, Nicholas

Will sent the e-mail and took two big gulps of his steaming coffee. He looked up at Patrick. “It will be tight, but there's a nine-twenty
A.M.
Croatia Airlines flight out of Zagreb. One of Roger's team should be able to get the letter to me here by midday.” He glanced back down at his laptop as it bleeped. Lana had responded and would follow her instructions.

L
aith Dia pulled off his Helly Hansen arctic parka and tossed it over the back of a chair. He tousled his straight black hair with his fingers and then rubbed a large hand over his neck. He pulled out an envelope, which he gave to Will before sitting in one of the armchairs.

Will studied the envelope, gently feeling its weight in the palm of one hand.

“If it's got explosive in it, then that should have been detected as I went through security at the airports this morning.” Laith lit a cigarette and jabbed it in the direction of the envelope. “But its contents could be coated in poison.”

Will nodded slowly while examining the edges of the envelope's seal. He then carefully opened the letter. Within was a single sheet of paper, which he withdrew and examined. He saw that it had been cut along the top. He held it up to the light coming through the room's window and then placed it on his lap. He scrutinized the envelope before smiling and discarding it to one side. He picked up the letter again and spoke to no one in particular.

“It was written in a hurry. The nearest stationery available was used, and in this case it was stationery belonging to the Iranian embassy in Zagreb. The author of the letter cut off the paper's header to try to disguise its origin, and there is no watermark on the sheet. But the author forgot to check the inside of the envelope. If he had done so, he would have spotted a tiny giveaway inscription underneath one of the glued folds.”

Will read the letter.

Dear Miss Beseisu,

I am delighted to receive your letter, and it seems a lifetime ago since we last saw each other. I regret that I had to leave Sarajevo without saying good-bye. I would have liked to thank you for your work, but alas I was needed urgently in my own country and therefore had to leave more promptly than I anticipated.

It is an appealing thought to become reacquainted with you. It is important, however, that you understand that since we knew each other I have grown to become a cautious and suspicious man. The information you say you carry may prove invaluable to me. It may also be a means to expose and capture me. I do hope that is not the case.

But I do wish to trust you, and I have an idea how that can be achieved. Call your secret British friend and tell him to meet you somewhere. That place must not be in Croatia, as, if you are telling me the truth, it is important that you do not actually draw him close to you. When the meeting has been arranged, you must give me the man's name and tell me where he will be. It will be me, rather than you, who will then meet the British man.

For now we can continue to communicate via the embassy in Zagreb.

Your friend

Will handed the letter to Patrick, who read it and smiled.

Will rested his head on interlocked hands. “I thought he might go straight for a meeting with Lana.”

“Then you've underestimated your quarry. I believe he's too cautious to take the bait on the first pass.” Patrick folded his arms. “But there are seven positive points to this letter.”

Will pushed himself up from his chair and walked to a window. He thought for a while before nodding and turning. “We've successfully tested a line of communication to the man; he's responded; the response has been very quick; the man writes as if he is the man who knew Lana during the war in Bosnia; he's interested in me; he's given Lana an instruction; and he wants to hear from her again.”

“Exactly.” Patrick handed the letter to Laith and said quietly, “Memorize this letter and relay its contents to Roger.”

Will stuffed his hands in his pockets. “We can't agree to his terms—not yet, in any case.”

“I agree.” Patrick walked and stood close to Will. “If she were genuine, it would be illogical for Lana to follow his instructions.”

“So Megiddo is testing her?”

“I think so.”

Laith spoke. “How do we know that the man who wrote this letter is Megiddo? It could have been written by anyone from within the Qods Force. Megiddo may still be a dead and distant memory.”

Will and Patrick turned to look at the CIA paramilitary man. It was Patrick who spoke to Laith.

“The letter was handwritten by the defense attaché of the Iranian embassy in Zagreb. The man appears to have immature tradecraft skills due to his carelessness with the letter's stationery. Such lack of tradecraft means the man has no special credentials, so he would have reported Lana's communication to those who do have such credentials. He would have been scared to have done anything otherwise. In turn we can be confident that the response letter was dictated to him by someone else, and that person clearly feels that for the time being he has to rely on the DA to maintain contact with Lana.”

“You're right, though, Laith.” Will nodded at the ex–Delta operative. “We don't know that the letter was dictated by Megiddo. At the moment it's convenient for us to think that way because of the speed of his response, but it could well be a response from others within the IRGC.”

A cell phone rang, and it was Laith who reached into a pocket to answer the call. He listened and then nodded as he said, “All right, I'll be on the next available flight.” He ended the call and looked at Patrick and Will. “I should not have been brought here. One hour ago Lana took a walk through Zagreb's old town. As you would expect, Roger and Ben followed her. As you may not have expected, so did an Iranian surveillance team of six men and one woman.”

Patrick shook his head and muttered, “He doesn't trust her.”

“And why should he?” Will shouted the words. “I told you and Alistair that she shouldn't have been deployed! I told you it was too dangerous!” He pointed a finger at Patrick. “Lana's safety is now in serious jeopardy.”

Nineteen

A
t 7:00
P.M.
, Will watched Roger walk up to his table in the Piano Bar of the Sheraton Zagreb Hotel. As he seated himself opposite Will, a waiter approached them, but Roger waved the man away.

“Where's Lana?” Will pushed his cup of tea to one side.

“She's back in her room, meaning that the Iranian surveillance team has scaled back its coverage of her, meaning I'm able to be here with you right now.” He checked his watch. “So far she's dined in her hotel, but if this evening she decides to do otherwise, I'll have to head straight off.”

Will sighed. “Is she okay? Safe?”

Roger smiled a little. “You care about her, don't you? In my experience it's unusual for intelligence officers to care about the people they deploy.”

Will nodded. “Tell me about the Iranian team.”

Roger's smile brightened. “They're good. They move around Lana with experienced drills, and they've obviously analyzed this city, because they use its routes with confidence.”

“Are there any indications they might have spotted your team?”

All vestiges of a smile vanished. “Impossible. But you made a very good call not to tell Lana about me and my men. If she knew we were around her, there's a strong likelihood that her body language would betray her awareness of us to the Iranians.”

“What are their intentions?”

“It's too early to be certain at this stage, but so far they're just watchers.”

Will breathed in deeply. “I need to see her this evening to help her write another letter. How can I get to her room without being spotted?”

Roger said nothing for a moment and seemed to be deep in thought. He then said, “Send her an SMS saying that you're in town and would love to meet her for a drink at the Khala bar on Nova Ves at nine-thirty tonight. Tell her that if you're not there by ten
P.M.
, it's imperative she return straight to her bedroom and stay there for the rest of the night.” Roger reached into one of his pants pockets. “Here's a spare copy of her room's swipe key. You of course don't meet her at the bar but let yourself into her room while she's out.”

“Drawing the Iranians away from her hotel.” Will frowned as he took possession of the key. “That was quick work getting a copy of this.”

Roger shrugged. “Even though their intentions toward her currently appear passive, I need to know what we should do if Lana is attacked by the team.”

Will looked around before returning his gaze to Roger. “If you ask Patrick that question, he will rightly tell you that the priority is Megiddo. That if you step in to prevent Lana from being snatched or assassinated, our operation has failed. That all you can do in that situation is watch it happen and then follow the team with the hope they'll lead us to their master.” He paused and leaned in close to Roger. “But you work with me. And
we
do not sacrifice innocent women.”

Roger responded with a nod. “You really are unlike other intelligence officers I've worked with.” He smiled. “I'm glad.”

Will tapped a finger on the table, lost in thought. He said, “When she gets back to the hotel around ten
P.M.
, the Iranians will be with her, so I'll be trapped in her room. How can I leave?”

Roger exhaled. “You can't until she leaves and draws them well away from her hotel again. For her to do that in the middle of the night would look suspicious. Plus, I presume you don't want to tell her that she has seven Iranian intelligence operatives now following her. You'll have to stay with her until she leaves the hotel after breakfast.”

Will shook his head. “She'll misinterpret my intentions.”

“I'm sure you'll cope.” Roger then pointed at Will. “Just make sure that she follows her normal routine in the morning.”

W
ill read the text message from Roger.

She's on her way out, and her friends are with her. Best you head over now. By the way, she has a big smile on her face.

Upon arrival at the Regent, Will walked confidently through the lobby area of the large hotel and took himself to Room 85.

The room was lavish but had signs of Lana everywhere—clothes flung on her bed and draped over the backs of armchairs, four sets of shoes tossed on the floor, towels hung in odd places, her open laptop resting on a bed pillow, hair dryers, half-spilled vanity bags, magazines and books, and a stuffed laundry bag awaiting next-day collection. Will spent the ensuing forty-five minutes exploring the room and all its contents, including Lana's computer and e-mails. He was pleased to find nothing out of the ordinary. Helping himself to a glass of Prosecco, he sat and waited.

He received another text message saying Lana was back at the hotel and without a smile on her face. The Iranians were with her as well.

W
ill heard the door lock open and movement in the room's entryway. Within a moment Lana turned into the room and stood before him. She was clearly astonished to see him and glanced back at the closed entrance before looking at him again. “Nicholas.”

“It's okay, Lana.” Will smiled and did not stand. “I thought this would be a little less public.”

Her evident nerves were joined by an angry tone. “You have a key?” She placed her handbag on her bed and removed a neck scarf.

“Yes, I do.”

“You could have told me.” She took out a cigarette, which she proceeded to ignite. “It would have saved me the shame of being stood up.”

“I'm here now. And I made the effort to come to see you. Would you like a drink?”

She looked at Will's glass of sparkling wine. “Yes, one of those.”

He nodded. “Sit down and relax, Lana. I am sorry I shocked you. I was delayed and thought that it was easier for us to meet here.” He rose from his armchair and removed a small bottle from the minibar. He poured her the drink, which he took to her before sitting back down.

Lana rested in one of the large room's many chairs, but not too close to Will. She wore a thigh-length black sleeveless dress, evening heels, and a gold belt. Her long hair was down, partly braided and pinned. On the top of one arm, Will could see a hint of one of those old bamboo scars. “When did you arrive?”

“Just before you.” Will glanced around the room. “It's okay, I've not touched your things.”

Lana sat and regarded him without much of an expression. “It would have been nice to have a drink with you outside.” She drank some wine and then smiled slightly. “You are an odd and edgy sort of person, Mr. Cree.”

“I probably am.”

The woman seemed unsure what to say next. “Do you have a family?”

“I have everything I need.”

“I mean a lover? Children?”

“I knew what you meant.”

Lana ran a finger and thumb around the neckline of her dress. Slitting her eyes against the smoke, she took another drag of her cigarette before extinguishing it in an ashtray. “Why are you here?”

“You need to reply to the letter.” Will had another sip of his wine before pointing at the table between them. “Everything you require is on there.”

Lana read Will's script and then wrote. When she had finished, she lit another cigarette and was silent for a while, looking angry again. Will picked up her letter.

To my dear old friend,

I am overjoyed to hear from you. It seems to me that you are back from the dead and that I now have a chance to fill the void of a life that has been hollow since you disappeared.

I understand your reticence. Why would you blindly trust words on a piece of paper? Only when you look into my eyes will you be able to tell that my emotions are pure and without any agenda other than to be under your wing again. But I, too, have reticence. How can I do as you instruct until I am fully in your protection? I am certain that the British man and his colleagues can find me if they want to do so. If something happens to the British man and I am still here, his friends will come after me and will no doubt severely punish me. And the British man is all I have to bring me close to you again. If I give him to you now, then what use am I to you thereafter?

Please, can we meet? Please, can we look in each other's eyes so that we can both know that our feelings for each other are honorable and trustworthy?

But I know that I must give you something in this letter, so I will give you the British man's identity. His name is Nicholas Cree.

Yours,

Lana Beseisu

Will nodded and said, “Good. You'll need to deliver it to the embassy first thing in the morning.”

Lana was looking away while smoking ferociously. “It is very hard for me to write to Megiddo as if I love him.” She glanced down at her letter and then back at Will. “You've achieved what you needed to do this evening. You may go now, if you wish.”

Will sighed again and took a gulp of his wine. He placed his glass down on the table and spoke gently. “I'm not in a rush. Do you have other plans?”

Lana frowned and brushed a finger against her face.

Will slowly stood and walked over to the curtained window. He knew that he could not open the blinds for fear of being seen by hotel-gazing Iranians, but he stood there anyway and closed his eyes.

He smelled Lana's perfume before he felt her fingers interlock with his hand. He felt her body press against his back and her lips gently kiss his neck. He felt her long hair brush against his face. He squeezed her hand a little and turned to face her. She was truly beautiful, and as he beheld her proud and complex face, he wondered why she had chosen to be alone for so long. He decided that it was because her hatred for Megiddo had not allowed her to love another. He decided that the wish she had expressed in Paris might now be coming true.

Let me do this and feel alive again.

He said, “I will stay in your room with you tonight, but we cannot be together in that way.” He saw the look of disappointment and confusion on her face. He saw a tear creep from one of her eyes. He saw her looking at him as if she knew that he had made a mistake. He gently ran a finger over her tears and whispered, “I am not the man for you, Lana.”

She stepped closer to him. “Maybe I am the woman who can change that.”

Will shook his head. “I don't know.”

Lana placed a hand against his cheek. “I know you care for me. I know you worry about my safety. But”—she frowned—“I need to know . . . I need to know whether you've ever thought what it would be like . . . for us to be together?”

Will placed his arms around her waist. He wondered what he should say. He told her the truth. “I have imagined what it would be like. I have wondered about the future—when this is all over.” He pulled her closer and kissed her on her cheek. “I have thought about us.” He smiled even though inside he felt turmoil and confusion. He knew that he had spent years developing a shield against love and normality, that his shield was there to help him do the things he had to do. He knew that right now and for the moment that shield was lowered because of the woman he now held. He kissed her cheek again and said quietly, “Maybe when this is over, you can be the woman who changes things for me.” He shook his head and felt bitter and hollow. “But nothing must change right now.”

W
ill watched Lana sleeping on her bed while he sat in an armchair on the far side of her hotel room. Her duvet only partially covered her body, and a naked leg lay exposed over sheets. Will walked up to her and quietly arranged the duvet so that it was fully covering her. He looked at her and wondered whether she was dreaming. He looked at her and wondered what it would have been like to share her bed with her, to feel her naked warmth against him, to smell her hair and perfume, to wrap her in his arms.

He smiled and looked away from Lana toward the windows and saw that early-morning sunshine was just visible behind the curtains. He knew that beyond the room were men who wanted to capture and kill him. And he knew that they did not scare him. He looked back down at Lana, and his smile faded. He now knew that she could be the woman to change everything for him. And that knowledge terrified him.