The Rybinsk Deception (21 page)

Q
UICK THOUGH THE
Selina
had been to gather speed, it was proving to be no match for the runabout, which had all but vanished before Indiri’s husband was able to turn on the halogens.

To escape from the light, Yegorov was throwing the runabout into a series of sharp turns, still heading for the island, but adopting a zigzag course that was slowing him down and putting him at risk.

Twice when the runabout was side-on to the increasingly high waves it looked as though he would capsize, and twice he managed to recover, pulling steadily away from the
Selina
on his way to land.

O’Halloran had seen what was happening and was already on the phone. ‘Those are your floodlights, right?’ he said.

‘Right.’ Anticipating what the American was going to say next, Coburn said it for him. ‘Yeah I know it’s Yegorov, and yeah, I know we’re not going to catch him.’

Hari didn’t agree. Handing over the wheel to the Somalian he instructed him to keep watching the depth finder, then propelled Coburn from the focsle. ‘All is not lost,’ he said. ‘If you would be good enough to remove the lashings from the Zodiac, I shall fetch Ali and Susilo to help us.’

Coburn had forgotten about the Zodiac. It wouldn’t be fast enough to overhaul the runabout, he thought, but it might give them a chance of keeping up.

Conditions on the afterdeck were unpleasant. Crouched behind the halogens, Indiri’s husband was being drenched in spray, and already the Zodiac had several inches of water sloshing around in the bottom of it.

With Coburn’s fingers still suffering from the after-effects of his cramp, he found the wet ropes difficult to unfasten. Each time the lightweight boat was raised by the wind the lashings tightened, and it wasn’t until Hari and the two divers came to offer their assistance that he was able to untie the last of the knots.

‘Not for much longer can we continue like this,’ Hari shouted. ‘Before we reach the shallows we will secure the Zodiac to the
Selina
with a rope and throw it over the side. That means it will be necessary for you and I to jump in after it. You are happy to do this?’

‘Sure.’ Coburn had some doubts about which way up the Zodiac was going to hit the water. ‘Say when you’re ready.’

‘Very well.’ Hari waved to the Somalian to get him to ease back on the throttles. ‘We shall go when we are moving a little slower.’

The runabout had stopped zigzagging. Yegorov had given up trying to evade the lights and was attempting to regain his lead by making a straight run for the island.

Rather than watching the runabout, Hari had been observing the white caps, waiting for a lull in the wind.

It came too early. The
Selina
had barely started to lose speed when Hari gave the instruction to launch.

For a second the Zodiac became airborne, lifting several feet off the deck before the weight of its outboard motor came into play.

Slamming into the water stern first, it swung round, and but for the rope would have quickly drifted out of reach.

Coburn was the first to jump. Keeping well clear of the
Selina
’s propellers he swam over to it and steadied it in the wind until Hari joined him and they were able to slither into it together.

Looking like a walrus with his hair plastered across his face, Hari was taking his time to get them underway. ‘We are lucky the sea is warm,’ he said.

‘Never mind how warm the sea is.’ Coburn cast off the rope. ‘Get the goddamn motor going.’

‘You should learn to be more patient.’ Hari started the outboard. ‘Yegorov will not escape so easily. If we do not run him down before he beaches his boat, we shall capture him on the island before he goes too far.’

Away to the east, the lights of what Coburn had supposed were cottages had long since disappeared. To the north, though, where another rain squall was beginning to obscure the flames from the Osa, he could see the
Sandpiper
’s boats at work.

How many of the Osa’s survivors would be North Koreans, he wondered, sailors who’d been forced at gunpoint to fire the Styx? And if Yegorov was to get away, would their testimony alone be sufficient to implicate the FAL?

Hari had other things to think about. He was ignoring the waves, and instead of reducing speed when Coburn thought it would be wiser for him to do so, he was going faster and faster, hanging on to the transom as the Zodiac bounced from the crest of one wave to another.

The technique was working. But it wasn’t working well enough. Although the Zodiac was gaining on the runabout, Coburn could see that Yegorov was going to arrive at the island ahead of them.

Hari had reached the same conclusion. ‘Do not worry,’ he shouted. ‘We can still pursue him. In the meantime you should not look back at the
Selina
. The halogens will hurt your eyes.’

It was good advice. The intensity of the light flooding out over the white caps told Coburn that the
Selina
was still on the move, still coming and not yet in danger of running aground.

For the next few minutes as the squall approached, he too was forced to hang on, shifting his weight forwards to stop wind gusts from lifting the bow while he tried to estimate how much further Yegorov had to go.

Even though the first of the rain drops had begun to hit them, by now the island was clearly visible, no longer a dark shape, but a forbidding chunk of land, bordered not by the beaches Coburn had expected to see, but ringed with surf pounding against boulders and rocks that had been dislodged from surrounding cliffs.

In one place only was there a gap in the surf – a river mouth, he decided, or maybe where wind and tidal currents were creating a break between two banks of sediment.

Aided by the
Selina
’s lights, Yegorov headed straight for it, accelerating once he was in calmer water in the hope of beaching his runabout at a small bay he could see ahead of him.

The beaching was successful. The decision that had led him to it was not.

The bay was so tiny it was hardly a bay at all. Little more than a hundred feet wide, it was a narrow strip of sand that over the years had built up at the foot of a large waterfall that was cascading out of a cleft in the lichen-covered cliff behind it.

Boxed in with nowhere to go, Yegorov had but one option.

Clutching what looked like some kind of waterproof satchel he hurried to the base of the waterfall and started to climb, searching for footholds that weren’t there, and doing his best now the rain had begun in earnest, but being driven back with each step by the torrent of water pouring down on top of him.

Hari was careful how he approached the beach, conscious of the rocks and of the Zodiac’s comparatively fragile hull, making sure it wasn’t washed up on the sand too far.

‘So, this ends well for us,’ he said. ‘He has trapped himself. Before we go to speak with him, I should like to know if on board the
Sandpiper
the medical facilities are good.’

Given the circumstances the question was bizarre, so much so that Coburn couldn’t imagine the reason for it. But that was before he saw the gun. Hari was holding a Colt automatic, shaking it to clear the water from the muzzle and ejecting a round to ensure the action was operating smoothly.

‘Give that to me.’ Coburn held out his hand. ‘Now. Don’t tell me it’s a precaution.’

‘No. I have no wish to end my days in a place like this. You should be paying more attention to someone who can harm you.’

Yegorov had abandoned his attempt to climb the cliff face. He’d emerged from beneath the waterfall and was limping towards them, appearing to be unarmed, but still holding his satchel and with one hand concealed inside it.

‘He comes to offer us a deal, perhaps.’ Hari stuck the automatic into his waistband. ‘We must listen to him carefully.’

Despite being soaked to the skin and dazzled by the
Selina
’s lights, Yegorov’s attitude was not that of a beaten man.

Without giving Hari a glance he approached Coburn and spat out a
mouthful of water. ‘Lucky for you you’re not back at that nice village of yours,’ he said. ‘This time tomorrow it won’t be there.’

Coburn waited.

Yegorov raised the satchel. ‘C4,’ he said. ‘Two blocks, one detonator and a dead-man’s trigger. Your call. You can trade your Zodiac for my boat, or you and your long-haired friend here can try rushing me, and we can all go out in a bang together.’

Hari had decided to take over. ‘The Koran does not teach you this,’ he said. ‘A good Muslim should act, or hold his silence. By making such a threat you betray your faith in Allah.’

The remark unsettled Yegorov. ‘Do I look like a fucking Muslim to you?’ he said.

‘No.’ Hari shook his head. ‘No, you do not.’

Coburn was too slow. Before he could do anything, Hari had drawn the Colt and fired.

The bullet smacked into Yegorov’s left leg, shattering his knee-cap and driving him backwards until he collapsed moaning in agony on to the sand.

‘Jesus.’ Coburn had been caught so unprepared he didn’t know whether to be angry or not. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’

Hari shrugged. ‘The risk was not great.’ He put the gun away. ‘A non-believer does not volunteer his life so willingly. He understands now how foolish he was to shoot at us on the
Pishan
and attack my village. Are you not curious to know what instead of C4 it is he carries in his bag?’

Coburn didn’t care. Standing with his back to the glare of the
Selina
’s halogens, staring at a floodlit waterfall on a desolate, rain-swept beach, what motivation he had left was fast disappearing and he was finding it difficult to believe that everything was over.

Hari didn’t think it was. He’d gone to collect the satchel, but Yegorov was refusing to let it go, somehow overcoming his pain and hanging on to it until Hari kicked him in the head.

If Coburn had been able to forget the events he’d witnessed at another beach, he might have regarded the kick as brutal. But he hadn’t forgotten. His memories of wounded shipyard workers and of the broken bodies of the children hadn’t gone away – in his mind, still as
fresh as the image he had of a fair-skinned European nurse on her knees and smothered in blood while she struggled to help the dying in the filth and muck of Fauzdarhat.

Instead of shooting Yegorov in the knee, Hari should have killed the bastard, he thought. It wouldn’t have changed the past, but now the launch of the Styx had provided Ritchie with irrefutable proof of the FAL’s intentions, maybe Yegorov had become unnecessary, and if he had, what better place than this for him to pay for what he’d done.

Hari had brought the satchel. He’d already opened it, and seemed anxious to show Coburn what he’d found inside. Using the top flap to protect the contents from the rain, he held it out into the light.

It was crammed with cellophane-wrapped packets of $100 bills, so many that Coburn couldn’t begin to guess how much money he was looking at. A windfall, he thought, cash that wouldn’t just cover the
Selina
’s fuel costs and compensate Hari for his time and trouble, but provide the whole village with a more than substantial profit.

‘Yegorov brings this to pay the men he recruits to help him,’ Hari said. ‘So now I have it to pay mine.’ He closed the flap. ‘You are ready to leave?’

‘Not yet.’ Coburn hesitated. ‘I need to have a word with Yegorov. Let me have your gun.’

‘No.’ Hari moved it discreetly from his waistband to his pocket. ‘It will be wiser for you not to speak with him. I have already done so for you.’

‘Saying what?’

‘That should he refuse to co-operate with the Commander of the
Sandpiper
, the Americans will turn him over to the North Koreans, who will be happy to persuade him to tell them what he knows. Is that not the message you wished to give him?’

It wasn’t, and Hari knew it wasn’t, but Coburn had stopped listening. For an instant he’d been elsewhere – standing not on a rain-swept beach, but in the dust and heat of Iraq, blind with rage while he pumped bullet after bullet into a chador-clad woman on the corner of a bombed-out street.

‘Come.’ Hari took his arm. ‘We shall leave Yegorov to bleed while we return to the
Selina
where, when we are once again dry, you can call
your colleague O’Halloran to inform him where Yegorov can be collected and I can open the last bottle of scotch I bring with me from Singapore.’

‘Let go of me.’ Coburn pulled his arm away. ‘Get the Zodiac in the water. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

He’d expected to feel relieved – pleased even. Instead, as though nothing very much had been accomplished, he was conscious only of a hollowness. It was because the journey had been too damn long, he thought – from Iraq to the shipyards of Fauzdarhat, to Sumatra, Singapore, Maryland and Oregon, and finally to this godforsaken stretch of coast where no one had ever been before – a journey that had started with his execution of the woman and that now, except for his one hope for the future, would end right here by him allowing Yegorov to live.

Wishing he didn’t have to wait to see what the future was going to hold, he took a last look at the waterfall, then began to walk back slowly to the Zodiac, but had taken only a few steps when the
Selina
’s lights were suddenly extinguished and he found he couldn’t see anything at all.

H
ARI WAS LOOKING
frayed around the edges. Having spent two days overindulging himself at the most expensive hotel he’d been able to find in Seoul, he’d slept for the entire duration of their overnight flight to Singapore, and although he’d claimed to be feeling better when they’d boarded a village launch that had been despatched to collect them from the wharf this morning, now they were further out in the Strait, Coburn could see that he was suffering something of a relapse.

The young man at the helm had noticed too. He was one of the villagers who’d carried out the raid on the
Pishan
, endeavouring to provide them with a reasonably smooth passage and trying not to grin whenever Hari growled at him or warned him about approaching freighters.

For Coburn, the trip across the Strait was not so much a homecoming as a test to find out where, if anywhere, he might feel at home. Unlike the crew of the
Selina
, who had each been paid a bonus of $5000 and promised the same again once they’d returned the boat safely to the village, his own reasons for returning were rather different, and the closer they drew to the mouth of the estuary, the more he was beginning to wonder if he was expecting too much.

In hindsight, it would have been better if he hadn’t been so anxious to speak to Heather on the phone, he thought. Before the
Selina
had called into Inchon to drop him and Hari off on the west coast of South Korea, he’d made two calls. In the first of them he’d spoken to both O’Halloran and to Ritchie.

O’Halloran, who’d evidently decided there was more to be gained by
staying on board the
Sandpiper
for as long as he was allowed to, had wasted no time in asking Coburn if it would be OK if he were to take the credit for saving a US warship from an attack that could have resulted in disaster on an international scale.

Ritchie had been more grateful, confirming that he had Yegorov in custody on board along with the other survivors from the Osa, and assuring Coburn that Shriver had already been placed under arrest following an urgent overnight investigation of the FAL’s activities by the US National Security Agency and the FBI.

Coburn’s second call had been the only one he’d really wanted to make. He’d spoken to Heather for nearly half an hour, at the end of which, after he’d brought her up to date, she’d made the mistake of saying she’d been in touch with her godfather again, but had then refused to tell him why – the reason, he suspected, for his present feeling of unease.

Now the launch was rounding the tip of Bengkalis Island and about to enter the slow-moving water of the river, as was his custom, Hari took over duties at the helm. He appeared to have caught up on his smoking after their flight, and although a cigarette was dangling from his lips, he hadn’t yet bothered to light it.

‘It is good to be back, is it not?’ he said. ‘I prefer the estuary to the Yellow Sea.’

Coburn grinned at him. ‘You didn’t do so badly out of your trip.’

‘Thanks to my experience and great skill – not because of your cleverness. You are looking forward to seeing Miss Cameron again?’

‘Yep.’ Coburn was reluctant to elaborate. ‘There’s something you and I need to sort out before we get to the village.’

‘You wish to say that in the future you may be unable to provide me with the manifests of ships which will pass through the Strait?’

‘I don’t know whether the IMB still believe I’m dead. Ritchie said he spoke to Armstrong, but I’ve no idea how much detail they got into.’

‘It is not important.’ Hari spat out his cigarette and pointed ahead. ‘We are expected.’

Alerted to their arrival by someone who’d seen the launch coming, people had gathered on the jetty and were already waving greetings.

For a moment, Coburn wasn’t sure Heather was among them.

But she was.

She was standing by herself in the sunshine, holding her arms awkwardly by her side as though she didn’t quite know what to do with them.

Wondering what he was going to say to her, he helped the young man secure the launch then followed Hari up on to the landing stage, saying hello to Indiri, shaking hands with some of the men and returning the smiles of two little girls who were peeping out from behind their mother’s skirt.

Heather had seen him, but she hadn’t moved. Barefoot and wearing a white tank top, her yellow skirt and the thick gold bracelet Indiri had given her, she appeared to be uncertain of herself.

In case she was feeling intimidated by the crowd, he pushed through the people and made his way over to her.

The flecks in her eyes were more noticeable, and her hair was slightly more sun-bleached and a little longer, but otherwise she was exactly as he remembered her.

Saying nothing, she stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the mouth, holding on to him while he ran his fingers through her hair and breathed in the fragrance of her perfume and the fresh clean smell of her skin.

It wasn’t until he broke off their embrace to look at her that he saw her cheeks were wet with tears.

‘Hey.’ He wiped them away. ‘You’re supposed to be pleased.’

‘I am.’ She attempted a smile. ‘Do you realize how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other?’

‘Thirty-one days.’ Coburn had worked it out on the plane. ‘Are we going to carry on saying hello here?’

‘Only if there’s something you need to talk to Hari about before we go.’

Hari was still enjoying his welcome from two of his so-called wives. With his arms round their waists and surrounded by children at the end of the jetty, it looked as though he was going to be busy for some time.

‘Never mind him,’ Coburn said. ‘Where are we going to?’

‘Our hut, of course.’ Taking his hand, she began to tow him away. ‘Indiri helped me clean it yesterday. It’s all ready for us.’

Apart from a new building that was under construction on the site
where the two huts that had been destroyed during the attack had once stood, the village was largely unchanged, and although the surrounding marsh and the drainage ditches appeared to be drier than when he’d been here last, the hum of insects was as loud as ever, and, if anything, there were even more butterflies flitting about.

With most of the people yet to return from the jetty, the place was unusually quiet, giving Coburn the impression that it was slumbering in the sun beside the estuary. It was a bit too peaceful, he thought, a village with no name that looked as though it was sitting on a riverbank where nothing much ever happened or ever would.

She tugged at his hand to keep him moving. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing. Who’s going to be living in the new hut?’

‘It’s not a hut. It’s a school – well, it will be. While you were away I asked Hari what he thought about the idea of me teaching English to the children. He said that if I wanted to try, he’d put up a building. It’s only temporary – until we see how things turn out. Didn’t he tell you?’

Coburn shook his head. ‘Have you decided you want to carry on living here?’

‘I don’t know yet.’ She stopped at the door of the hut to let him go in first.

Inside, it was cool and airy, smelling faintly of her perfume and the cut flowers she’d placed in vases on two of the windowsills.

‘OK,’ Coburn said. ‘Answer my question.’

‘What question?’

‘About you staying on here.’

‘Oh.’ She shuffled her feet. ‘It depends. I thought maybe you’d like to stay with me – you know, for a while, until you find out whether you still have a job – and because you don’t have anywhere else to go – not since you blew up your apartment in Singapore.’

To give her a better reason, he swung her round and propped her up against the wall, pinning her there by her wrists while he kissed her and only letting go when she started wriggling.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘What was that for?’ she said.

‘To show you I missed you. What did you think it was for?’

‘Oh.’ She sounded disappointed. ‘Does that mean you’re too tired to show me properly?’

Coburn had never been less tired in his life, but before he could tell her so, she decided to find out for herself.

Reaching under her top, she removed her bra then, with her arms round his neck started smothering him with kisses, pressing her nipples hard against his chest, as eager to discover if he’d really missed her as he was to show her by how much.

For a minute he considered trying to slow things down, but soon found he didn’t want to.

He’d got as far as lifting her skirt and had begun to slip his hand between her thighs when she suddenly made him stop.

Hari was standing in the doorway, looking at the ground to conceal his embarrassment. ‘You must forgive me,’ he said. ‘I should have thought.’

Heather was quick to put him at ease. ‘It’s all right.’ She smiled at him. ‘It’s my fault for leaving the door open.’ She turned away while she rearranged her top and smoothed down her skirt. ‘Come on in.’

‘No, no. I have caused you enough trouble. I come only to ask you to dinner tonight so we may celebrate our good fortune and safe return – and also to give you this.’ Hari held up some sheets of paper. ‘I am told that late last night the fuel boat brings this fax from the post office in Bengkalis.’

‘Who’s it for?’ Coburn made an effort to think.

‘I read the beginning to you.’ Hari cleared his throat. ‘It says Dear Mr Tan, The office of the US National Counter-Proliferation Centre is in receipt of an email from Mr O’Halloran asking us to send you this fax with a request that it be passed on to Mr David Coburn, if you have an address for him or know where he can be found.’ Hari handed the fax to Coburn. ‘It is signed by someone called Alicia Richardson who, I imagine, will be a secretary to Mr O’Halloran. I think it is not important for you to read it now when you have other things to occupy you. We shall talk of it when I see you this evening.’ He turned to leave. ‘In the meantime I wish you a most pleasant afternoon.’

Heather closed the door behind him. She was still flushed and breathing quickly, but seemed more amused than annoyed. ‘That serves us right for being in a hurry,’ she said. ‘What’s in the fax?’

Coburn hadn’t looked, not sure whether the interruption had
spoiled the moment to the point where they’d be better off waiting for a while before they started again.

Heather had decided already. Taking the fax from him, she spread out the sheets on the table. ‘Copies of press clippings,’ she said. ‘One taken from the
New York Times
and one from
The Press Observer
. Do you want me to read them out?’

‘Sure.’ Endeavouring to forget the feeling of the silkiness of her skin against his palm, he went to sit down in a chair by the window.

‘This is the clip from the
Times
,’ she said. ‘It’s headed US General indicted for sedition.’ She glanced up. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Carry on.’ He was more relieved than anything, glad that at least some of the truth was going to be leaked to the public.

‘It’s only short – not what you call headline news.’ She began to read again. ‘“Following a US Navy investigation and an unconfirmed report of a naval confrontation involving the launch of a surface to surface missile on August 9th off the coast of South Korea, retired Brigadier General George W. Shriver was yesterday arrested for unspecified offences against the State. Shriver is best known as the founder of the right wing Free America League, and for some years has been a leading proponent of military intervention to contain the nuclear ambitions of North Korea’s communist government.

‘“The Free America League are denying all knowledge of the August 9th incident and have issued a statement condemning the indictment of Brigadier Shriver as a further example of this Administration’s attempts to trample on the rights of all Americans to freedom of expression.”’

‘Usual crap from the FAL,’ Coburn said. ‘They know they’re not going to get out of this. Has
The Press Observer
printed the same statement?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not about the
Sandpiper
or the FAL. It has to do with North Korea.’ She brought over one of the sheets to show him.

Coburn could guess why O’Halloran had wanted him to see the
Observer
clipping. It was ironical, he thought. After all the trouble the FAL had gone to with the
Sandpiper
and the
Rybinsk
, North Korea had ended up doing a better job of portraying themselves as a global threat than Shriver and Yegorov could have ever done.

Heather sat down on the arm of his chair. ‘Have I missed something?’ she asked. ‘What is it? Tell me.’

‘Only that O’Halloran turned out to be right. He always thought we might have gone up into the Yellow Sea for nothing. Now the public have been told that North Korea can target Hawaii and Alaska with nuclear missiles anytime they want, that’s going to scare a hell of a lot of Americans far more than an attack on a US minehunter would’ve done.’

She frowned. ‘You had to go to the Yellow Sea though,’ she said. ‘If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to stop the attack, would you?’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Coburn crumpled up the fax. ‘Your turn now. You have to tell me something.’

She smiled. ‘I didn’t realize we were taking turns.’

‘You said you’d called your godfather. What did you do that for?’

‘It was Indiri’s idea. Whenever her husband goes out on a raid, she believes that if she makes definite plans for when he comes home, nothing bad will happen. I know it’s silly, but she kept on about me doing the same.’