ADAM HALL: The Scorpion Signal

Crossing Solanka, lights at red.

The Zil wasn't there.

We began hitting the cross-ruts and the front end lost its line and cocked over and wouldn't come back but the wheels had some resistance left and I waited and then hit the brakes as we ploughed into the loose sand alongside the kerb and the Pobeda shook itself straight as the nearside rear wheel hit and bounced and got traction as I gunned up and settled down again with a number 55 bus a hundred yards ahead of me and nothing this side of it but a taxi. It was no go.

No sign of the Zil. I'm across the -

Mirror.

Zil.

Correction, I've got the Zil now, I've got the Zil.

It was behind me, crossing the fork on the green with its headlights full on and coming up fast.

Croder's voice came faintly through bad static but with a lot of control.

Repeat, Please. Repeat signal.

I hit the button again. I've got the Zil behind me at fifty yards and closing up on me fast. Listen, I want the others to hold off, tell them to hold off, we can't risk crashing the Zil — it's a live bomb.

I switched to listen and heard him acknowledge and then start telling all stations to support the scene but keep clear of the Zil. He repeated and asked for acknowledgement and the others began coming in as the siren started up again from somewhere in the immediate area, another one joining it: the network had been alerted to something and the patrols were closing in.

The bus was moving slowly in the nearside lane and I checked the mirror and pulled out in the path of the limousine behind me. In this city the Zils and Chaikas normally drive on full headlights for the police to let them through the intersections but this one began using the horns when it saw me pull out. According to Ignatov it would have the Politburo chauffeur Morosov at the wheel and he wasn't used to other vehicles getting in his way and tonight he was running two minutes late and his rendezvous was ultra-priority.

I began slowing.

There was still a clear lane on my offside and I waited for him to take it. The Zil was massive and could break through the ruts of snow and keep its steering stable enough to make a lot of speed through streets like these and if I let him go past me I'd lose him without any chance at all of catching him again: this was strictly a one-time operation because he now had a straight run to the Kremlin and the police would let him through every light. Through the snow haze ahead of me I could see the bright gold domes of St Basil's church at the south end of Red Square: we were less than a mile from the Kremlin now and time was running out.

The Zil was shaping to overtake, its dark mass filling the mirror. Its horns were still blaring and its headlights blinding and I had to use my left hand as a shield against the window glass while I kept on slowing and watched the shadow of my own car on the road ahead of me: if the Zil pulled to the left or right I'd see the angle change. When it stopped hooting I could hear the sirens again, their howl loudening as they neared the area. I hit the tit.

I've still got the Zil behind me and I'm blocking it. We're approaching Razina ulica. Several sirens going, they've been getting nearer.

The Zil began using its horns again and I saw the angle of the Pobeda's shadow change, shifting to the left as the limousine started pulling out to the right lane in another attempt to get past. I pulled out too, blocking him again and bringing the speed down to less than forty kph. We were past the bus now but there were two taxis and a truck ahead of us on the far side of Razina ulica, the major street that ran at right angles across our path. At this point I was moving into a situation that looked strictly shut-ended: if I kept on across Razina the Zil would turn left and head directly for the Kremlin; but if I turned left on to Razina it would keep straight on and use the left turn at Kujbyseva and reach the Kremlin that way.

Whichever I did, the Zil could peel off and get dear.

Morosov was an experienced driver and would know every minor turning if I tried to cut him off. The Zil could go through every light and the instant its image was seen by the guards at Spassky Gate they would change the signals to green and let him through. So I would have to stop him in the next thirty seconds and I'd have to do it without making him crash because there was enough explosive on board to wreck half the block.

Location Solanka and Razina intersection. I'm going to try stopping the Zil.

Its massive shape was right behind me with its horns strident and its lights dazzling as I made three rapid feints to the left, right and left as we reached the intersection. Morosov reacted instantly, swerving to the right, left and right to overtake, and as he swung to the right for the last time I gunned up and went for him, nosing across his front end and forcing him to slow and then throttling into a rear-wheel slide and coming back across him and feeling the Pobeda tilt suddenly as the weight of the limousine made oblique contact. The horns had stopped now because he was having to use both hands on the wheel, and I heard the sirens again.

There was sand on the surface here but the snow had packed into ice underneath it and for a moment I lost the Pobeda as it reacted to the impact and swung full circle and hit the kerb and came off again still swinging; but I was still on the right side of the limousine and got enough traction back to nose across its path and this time Morosov braked too hard and started sliding, the black polished bodywork veering across my windscreen as it corrected and slid again with its huge momentum taking it in a series of swings that sent it glancing against the Pobeda three times before it lost the surface and swung full circle, its speed gone and its rear wheels spinning as Morosov tried to find traction and failed.

The Pobeda was down to crawling speed and I hit the door open and got out and began running, pitching down once on the gritty ice before I got to the Zil and wrenched at the driver's door. The sirens were coming in and a dazzle of light flooded the street as the heavy door swung open and Morosov brought a revolver into the aim and began firing too late and too high: the explosions hammered against my eardrums as I used my right hand in a rising fork strike and got the gun clear and hooked him off balance on to the roadway. He tried to get up and I chopped twice and dropped him and climbed into the Zil. The engine was still running and I slammed the door and found the throttle and teased the rear wheels into motion as a black patrol car came in from Solanka with its siren going.

The Zil was on the move but the surface was tricky and I had to keep tapping the throttle to use the power of the huge engine to take me in a series of swings before I could straighten up and give it the gun. I'd rammed the radio into the pocket of my coat when I'd abandoned the Pobeda but there wasn't time to use it as the limousine got up speed and I swung left at the first intersection and brought the power on and settled down. The mirror grew bright but I'd got a hundred-yard lead and swung left again to work my way back to the ring road and away from the Kremlin.

Time check: 6.07.

1 began thinking about Schrenk. He couldn't be far away.

I tugged the radio out of my pocket and hit the button.

A-Able to C–Charlie… Location approaching Solanka fork road from south. I am now on board the Zil. Has anyone seen Schrenk? Has anyone seen Schrenk?

The lights were still in the mirror but there was no siren going.

Calling A-Able. You have three of us in your immediate area. Anyone identifying Schrenk report immediately.

I watched the mirror. The car behind me wasn't trying to close up. It was probably D-Donald or E-Edward but it could be Schrenk.