Matthew Dunn - Sentinel

“Though he knew he’d never get that information from you, so he wondered if it was possible to get it from another MI6 officer.”

“A person who at some point in his career had betrayed secrets to the USSR or Russia.”

“He discreetly tasked his contacts in Russian intelligence to try to find out if such a person existed.”

Sentinel agreed. “One of those contacts was an FSB officer named Filip Chulkov. He had clearance to read the closed, top secret MI6 double-agent files.”

“And in one of those files he read about the junior MI6 officer.”

“Chulkov was a stupid man, but even he would have instantly recognized the name in the file.”

“Though it seems his stupidity ultimately got the better of him. Instead of taking the file and the MI6 name to his FSB superiors so that they could reopen the case, he took it straight to Razin.”

“Who thanked him and shot him in the head.”

Will took a sip of his coffee. “Razin approaches the Head of Moscow Station and-”

“Blackmails him to get the names of my agents.”

Though partly conjecture, their theory made sense to Will. But it didn’t help them beyond explaining how Razin had the names of the tier-1 agents. He felt overwhelming frustration. “We can’t warn off your agents.”

“I know that!” Sentinel sounded equally frustrated. “If we do, we take them out of the game. And if that happens, we’ll get the same result we would if they’re killed-a protracted war and all that will follow it.” He muttered, “Shit, shit, shit,” and looked at Will. “What’s the likely success of the operation you’re mounting?”

Will answered, “Provided I can get to the right people, I’m confident it will work, but I can’t guarantee that more of your agents won’t be killed.”

“I thought so.” Frustration was now replaced with a look of despair. “I can’t let any more of them die.”

“There’s nothing you can do right now.”

“There’s one possibility.”

Will waited.

Sentinel stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought. “Supposing we told Razin which agents I was going to next meet and when.”

Will frowned. “That would only help if you were a target.”

Sentinel smiled. “Maybe I am. He knows I’m after him and has already tried to kill me once. Plus, maybe my death would be the jewel in his crown. If he kills me, he’s killed the man who runs the tier-1 agents, the man who has the capability to recruit more agents to replace those Razin’s killed, the man the Russians stupidly released to carry on working against them.”

Will’s stomach muscles tensed. “We can’t use you and your agents as bait.”

“Why not? You’d be there to protect us.”

“I might fail!”

“You will if you think like that.”

“It’s too damn risky.”

For a moment, Sentinel seemed surprised by Will’s reaction. “You care?”

“Of course.” He pointed a finger at his colleague. “A huge number of people rely on you staying alive.”

“Conversely…”

“Yes, conversely — but we don’t need to play into that group’s hands.” Will shook his head. “How would you alert Razin to the meeting without him becoming suspicious?”

Sentinel looked up. “I’ll liaise with Kiev Station and get them to send a telegram to London, telling them to instruct the Moscow Station that I’m reactivating the Minsk DLB. It’s only ever cleared by Moscow Station-they have one officer who has official cover to travel in and out of Belarus. He gets my messages and takes them back into Russia in a diplomatic bag. Tomorrow, I’ll deposit a coded message there saying that I’m meeting Shashka in three days time.” Code name Shashka was a tier-1 agent and a general in Russia’s ground forces, based in the Western Operational Strategic Command in Saint Petersburg. “The message will be delivered to the head of station. Then I’m hoping he’ll give the details to Razin.”

“He might not do that.”

Sentinel stood up and poured himself more coffee. “Razin will be putting the squeeze on the head of station to find out anything he can about our plans. He’ll have the man in his grip. The message will be passed, I’m certain.”

Will said, “I’m strongly against using you as bait. I’m under orders to stop Razin, but I’ve also been instructed to protect you at all costs. Your idea feels wrong.”

“Then give me an idea that feels right and doesn’t allow more of my agents to be killed.”

Will was silent.

Sentinel sat at a table, grabbed a piece of paper and a fountain pen, and began to write. When he finished, he stood, walked to Will, and thrust the paper toward him, saying, “I’ll rewrite the message and encrypt it when I’m in Belarus.”

MEETING SHASHKA AT 1800HRS ON 24TH THIS MONTH AT ST PETERSBURG SAFE HOUSE. VITAL THAT I’M ALERTED TO ANY SOURCE INTEL RELATING TO SHASHKA OR ST PETERSBURG PRIOR TO MEETING. MY RUSSIAN ASSETS CAN’T BE TRUSTED. BREACH OF SECURITY. NEED TWO HANDGUNS AND A TWO-PERSON COMMS SYSTEM. RESPOND ON 23RD WITH COLLECTION DETAILS.

SENTINEL.

Will tossed the paper to one side. “The other major risk is to Shashka himself. He’s an extremely valuable agent.”

“He has to be there. We can’t use a stand-in.”

“I know.”

Shashka could have the ability to locate Razin. Meeting him to get that information would be vital. Moreover, it was possible that Razin would follow Shashka to the meeting. He’d easily spot a fake and would probably abort going to the meeting if he saw one.

But Will was still uncomfortable with the whole thing. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’s been ever thus.”

Will looked at him. Over the last few days, Sentinel seemed to have aged. Will hesitated before quietly saying, “If we succeed in stopping Razin, you need to get out of the field. Make a home in England. You’ve done more than enough.”

“I’d never request that.”

“But by your own admission, you’ve thought about it.” He leaned forward. “Maybe you’d not object if the decision was taken out of your hands.”

Sentinel said nothing.

“Maybe… I could arrange for that to happen.”

Sentinel was clearly digesting Will’s idea. Then he beamed. “Get a wife, a nice house in the country, do some gardening, have an occasional pint at the local pub. And would I come to you to learn how to do all those things?”

Will laughed. “Fair point.”

Sentinel smiled. “I think so.” He sighed. “But still, it is a pleasant notion…” He folded his arms. “Tomorrow I will be in Minsk. I don’t need you for that, but I will need you for the Shashka meeting in Russia.” His eyes became cold. “I’m going to kill Razin. And when I’ve finished with him, I’m going to visit the Head of Moscow Station.”

The Russian intelligence officer drove his vehicle off the Moscow highway onto a minor road and headed north. Normally the journey to his home would take only thirty minutes, but it was dark and the snow was heavy. He hoped his wife wouldn’t be angry with his delay. Tonight they were hosting a dinner party with friends and were allowing their young children to stay up and eat with them. Nikita and Ivan had been so excited at the prospect and had promised not to fall asleep before the meal.

Soon there were no streetlamps on the road; woods were either side of him. He increased the speed of the car’s windshield wipers and squinted to try to focus through the snow. The car’s heater was noisy and turned up high but barely seemed to be producing any heat. He recalled his wife nagging him to get a new car. She was right; this one was falling to pieces, and he doubted it would last through the winter.