John Gardner - Man From Barbarossa

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Russian terrorists kidnap a man suspected of Nazi war crimes--and get the wrong man. The rebels threaten to kill their captive unless ten million dollars and the real war criminal are delivered to them within 72 hours. Only the KGB's newest secret weapon could possibly stop their plan--Comrade James Bond. 
From Kirkus Reviews
Gardner rouses himself for more elaborate plotting than usual in his tenth stint as Ian Fleming's stand-in, but Gardner's James Bond, on loan to the KGB for some antiterrorist housecleaning, has aged a lot less gracefully than Sean Connery. A dissident Russian cabal calling itself The Scales of Justice (SoJ) has kidnapped somebody it claims is Josif Vorontsov, notorious second-in-command at Babi Yar, from his home in New Jersey and threatened to assassinate high-level brass hats until the government takes Vorontsov off their hands and places him on trial for war crimes. When the Kremlin denies that SoJ has the real Vorontsov and refuses to recognize his extradition, SoJ begins taking out high-level brass hats, and the KGB asks British Intelligence to let them have somebody--guess who--able to infiltrate SoJ by substituting for two English-speaking recruits. Gardner lays some promising trails--Bond working for the KGB, Bond partnered by Mossad agent Pete Natkowitz, two interloping French agents (one a natural bedmate), the news that SoJ intends to videotape its own free-lance war-crimes trial, and all the usual seductions, killings, double-crosses, flashbacks, and intimations of The End (this time by hard-liners bombing Washington while the US is busy bombing Baghdad)--but the going keeps getting muddier, as if somebody else had finished the book over a third martini (shaken, not stirred). Bond saves the world, gets the woman and the Order of Lenin, and turns in a less muffled performance than in last year's Brokenclaw, though still below average for Gardner's series. Let's not talk about how far below Fleming's average.

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Moneypenny had grabbed him to sign the day’s mail and to draw his attention to a couple of signals which seemed to require action now. One was a ‘Confidential’ from MI5 – the Security Service – concerning something that might just have repercussions on the main matter in hand. M worried at it in the back of his mind as he returned to the briefing room, this time to deal with the small amount of intelligence they had on the Scales of Justice .

They had given up any pretence of special briefing, sitting together for a general discussion, first listening to Pete Natkowitz who related every scrap of information he had supposedly wrung from Tel Aviv. In the end it boiled down to the unpalatable fact that the Mossad surveillance and snatch teams had been left-footed and had no idea who had spirited Leibermann/Vorontsov from Florida, let alone where the man had been taken.

After these troublesome tidings, M asked Natkowitz to state the Israeli position regarding the Scales of Justice .

‘I want to make this absolutely clear,’ the Israeli began. ‘The Scales have nothing to do with the Mossad, nor do we support them in any way. The Israeli government has no lines into them and they have never sought succour from my country, though it would seem they would like people to believe we have very firm links with them.

‘Our first knowledge, like that of most people, came from GSG-9. Alert 1042/90. You’ve all seen it?’ He looked up in query.

The German Counterterrorist Unit’s Alert had indeed been among the many documents Bond had looked through when he came back from sick leave. These days, he considered, they had more terrorist Alert signals than anything else. In fact, it was no secret that the old 00 Section, which had officially ceased to exist, had become his own Service’s elite counterterrorist unit.

Just to refresh everyone’s minds, Bill Tanner thumbed through a heavy bound loose-leaf file of European Alerts until he came to the one dated October 10th, 1990.

‘On three occasions in the past month, according to the GSG-9 circular, we have had evidence of a new quasi-terrorist organisation which appears to be ill-defined and with blurred, uncertain aims. The sources come from a raid, following an informant’s tip, on a house in the Sankt Georg district of Hamburg. Two men were arrested and later admitted to belonging to a unit of the Red Army Faction. Among various pieces of the usual literature seized were two leaflets, one in German, the other in Russian. They purport to come from a group calling itself the Scales of Justice which claims to have a universal membership of six hundred spread throughout Russia, Eastern Europe, the United States of America, Germany, France and the United Kingdom. Its aims are not apparent from these leaflets, but similar items, found after the arrest of two women at Frankfurt airport on September 15th, indicate that the SoJ is a group organised from within the Soviet Union. Its aims are set out in a document called Dossier Number 4 which was seized, together with a handful of names and addresses, from a known member of the so-called Grey Wolves group. It would appear that the SoJ is a tyro organisation which seems to be dedicated to the spread of pro-Israeli and pro-Semite feelings and freedoms within the frontiers of Russia and her former satellite countries. Also it appears to have some unusually close attachments within groups diametrically opposed to its aims – people like the RAF and the Grey Wolves.’ Tanner looked round as though asking if they could all understand that.

‘And what else have we, Chief of Staff?’ M jollying things along, knowing well enough what evidence was to hand.

‘The addresses, circulated by GSG-9, were in Paris and London. The French GIGN, 1in tandem with the DST, 2invited two people, a man and a woman, to help them, sir.’ Tanner’s tongue was not stuck in his cheek, but he looked firmly at the ceiling.

‘As I recall, they were no help.’

‘None whatsoever, sir. The French people named in the list recovered from the Grey Wolves were very respectable. As, indeed, were the five our own Special Branch pulled in. Almost a stink about it as one of them had friends in very high places. Fact of the matter is that the Scales of Justice “phoney list”, as it became known, drew a blank.’

‘And your people, Pete?’ M asked, his face unreadable.

‘Until now we had come to believe that the SoJ was an empty shell.’ Natkowitz’s face was equally expressionless, the pause held just a shade too long before he added, ‘However, something did happen in early November that made some of our analysts wonder.’

‘General Brasilov?’ M spoke placidly.

‘The assassination of Leonid Brasilov, yes. Shot in the classic terrorist manner as his car waited at traffic lights less than a mile from Red Square, in broad daylight. Ride-by. Two motorcycles and a pair of Uzis. There is evidence that the Kremlin wanted to hush things up but too many people saw it happen.’

Bond stirred. ‘And General Brasilov was well-known for his anti-Semitic views?’

‘And actions. You know what the Russians have been like over the years. The anti-Semitism; the examples that were made; the difficulty Russian Jewish people have had just living in their own country. Yes, things have eased, they have flooded into Israel, but – well, I’ll not be coy. More are still in Russia wanting to get out. More are still being denied exit visas. The Russians will not own up to this, naturally, but the late General Brasilov was one of the largest thorns in that crown worn by so many Soviet Jews.’

‘And the day after the assassination . . .’ Bond began.

‘The day after, there were posters all over Moscow. “The Scales of Justice accepts responsibility for the death of L.L. Brasilov.” Some of the posters rendered the name not as Chushi Pravosudia , but as Moshch Pravosudia – the Weight of Justice which, in Russian, is a little more sinister. Yes, I’ve no doubt that the KGB are somewhat anxious, for, since then, there have been reports of one attempted bomb outrage in Leningrad and a failed assassination attempt within the Kremlin itself. Both attributable to the SoJ.’ Natkowitz gave a thin smile, looking round the room. ‘You know how my Service felt about getting me involved with you British . . .’ he paused, a silence of carefully premeditated effect, for they all knew it had taken some swallowing for the Mossad to agree to an operation hand in glove with the British Service. Mistrust between the two intelligence services had been spawned long ago, and it was an unsavoury truth that the Savaret Matkal, the formidable Israeli anti-terrorist military unit, would not speak directly with the British SAS. All communications went through Germany’s GSG-9.

‘We can guess how they felt,’ M said quickly. ‘In a manner of speaking, we’re making a little history here, yes?’

‘I hope so.’ Natkowitz spoke with some feeling. ‘Yes, sincerely I hope so.’

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Bill Tanner.

‘We’ve established that the SoJ cannot be easily pinned down. We suspect that they operate from within the troubled borders of the Soviet Union. We must also suspect they have some kind of reasonable organisation.’

‘It is conceivable that they are freedom fighters of a kind,’ Natkowitz said flatly, as though that was the end of it.

M cleared his throat, ‘But, if there is a real connection between the SoJ and the abduction of the man Penderek, mistakenly instead of the real target . . .’

‘You really believe mistakenly?’ Natkowitz laughed, one note, pitched high, his head thrown back.

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