Kompromat

‘Nothing like school,’ said Harriet. ‘I think they knew I was gay even then. They hunted in packs.’

Yasonov put his arm round her. ‘Poor darling. Anyway, they had nothing on you. That’s why they let you go. You, personally, had no idea what was going to happen that night. Barnard was never going to be hurt anyway. It just had to look like a serious attempt on his life by the Remainers. The only thing to suffer any damage was that bust of Gladstone. Serve him right. Dirty old hypocrite. He used to wander round the East End at night rescuing fallen women. Or so he said. He wouldn’t get away with it nowadays.’

Harriet Marshall gave Yasonov a long, lingering kiss. Their affair had really begun when she went to Moscow after leaving Oxford. She came to the Russian capital as Harriet, not Howard. The transformation had been achieved a few months earlier in Bogota, Colombia, the world centre for plastic surgery, including sex-change operations. When Yuri Yasonov had got over the shock, he welcomed her with open arms.

‘No need to tell anyone about the operation,’ Harriet had said, when they met for a drink in Jean-Jacques, a short walk from the Old Arbat.

‘Why should I?’ Yuri had replied.

Later that night they took a taxi out to the presidential dacha. By then it was clear that Roland C. Craig was home and dry. He would indeed be the 45th president of the United States.

President Igor Popov had summoned all the key players in Operation Tectonic Plate. Along with Yuri Yasonov and Galina Aslanova, Popov had invited Lyudmila Markova, the FSB’s enforcer, and her all-female SWAT team, to join him at the presidential dacha.

Popov raised his glass and made a little speech.

‘It gives me great pleasure to introduce Martine Le Grand, the next president of France,’ he began. ‘Martine is on an unofficial visit. She is travelling incognito!’

Like any practised orator, Popov knew when to pause.

‘It’s a bit like Peter the Great,’ he said. ‘Peter travelled incognito when he visited Europe. Called himself “Peter Mikhailov”. Of course Peter the Great was over two metres tall, so he was quite easy to recognize. Martine Le Grand may not be as tall as Peter the Great, but already she is a figure of international stature. Martine, it is a great pleasure to have you with us today. Be assured we will give you all the help we can, including,’ and here he paused again to make sure they got the joke, ‘that large, no-interest bank loan you’re looking for to help you fund your campaign!’

Popov’s audience laughed and clapped. What a man Popov was, they thought. Where would he stop? At this moment, the whole world seemed to be his oyster.

Popov handed the microphone to the blonde lady, with strong, handsome features, who stood next to him on the stand.

‘Yes, this is an extraordinary day, isn’t it?’ Martine Le Grand began, sensing the mood. ‘First Britain, then the United States. Will the dominoes keep falling? Will France be next? Who can say? But one thing I do know: nothing is more powerful than the will of the people. Even if we don’t succeed this time round, our time will certainly come soon.’

After a while, she passed the microphone back to President Popov.

‘I have a few more people to thank,’ Popov said. ‘First, my good friend Galina Aslanova, and her wonderful team, who are so brilliantly executing Operation Tectonic Plate. Please step forward, Galina, to receive the Hero of the Russian Federation medal.’

Popov kissed Galina gallantly on both cheeks as she came forward to receive the award. ‘You’re looking wonderful!’ he whispered.

When Galina had resumed her place, Popov continued. ‘I would also like to thank Harriet Marshall, without whose help I can honestly say we would not have achieved that splendid victory in Britain. It gives me great pleasure to bestow on Harriet Marshall the Order of St Catherine the Great.’

Harriet Marshall blushed as she stepped toward. ‘Thank you so much, Mr President. This is indeed a great honour.’

Yuri Yasonov led the clapping, the others joining in enthusiastically. They all knew how much of the success of the Brexit campaign in Britain had been due to the tireless activity and attention to detail of Harriet Marshall.

Finally, President Igor Popov turned to the last of his specially invited guests. ‘Please step forward, sir,’ he called.

From the back of the room a tall, broad-shouldered figure with a shock of blond hair made his way to the stage, with a slow ponderous gait. For half a second, Harriet Marshall thought: ‘This is absurd. How can president-elect Ronald C. Craig be here when at this very moment he is giving his victory speech in New York?’

‘Fyodor Stephanov Molotovsky,’ President Popov said. ‘Please remove your wig!’

Fyodor Stephanov bowed low, and as he did so he swept the distinctive hairpiece from his head.

Popov gave Stephanov a huge bear hug.