The Fourth Protocol

The report of the mythical interrogation and the confession of Major Valeri Petrofsky to the British would need some amendment, but he had people out at Yasyenevo who could accomplish that. The interrogation report forms were absolutely authentic—that was the main thing. Even Preston’s reports on his progress, suitably amended to exclude any mention of Winkler, were photocopies of the originals.

The General Secretary would not be able or willing to save the traitor Philby; nor, later, would he be able to save himself. Vartanyan would see to that, and he would not be ungrateful.

Karpov’s car came to take him to Zurich and the Moscow plane. He rose. It had been a good meeting. And as always it had been rewarding to negotiate with Chelsea.

Epilogue

Sir Bernard Hemmings formally retired on September 1, 1987, although he had been on leave since mid-July. He died in November of that year, his pension rights assured to the benefit of his wife and stepdaughter.

Brian Harcourt-Smith did not succeed him as Director-General. The “Wise Men” took their soundings, and though it was agreed there was nothing in the least sinister in Harcourt-Smith’s attempts to pass the Preston report no further, or to discount the significance of the Glasgow intercept, one could not avoid concluding that these constituted two serious errors of judgment. There being no other discernible successor inside Five, a man was brought in from outside as Director-General. Harcourt-Smith resigned some months later and joined the board of a merchant bank in the City.

John Preston retired in early September and joined the staff of the asset-protection people. His salary was more than doubled, enabling him to seek his divorce and make a strong case for obtaining custody of his son, Tommy, whose welfare and education he could now guarantee. Julia abruptly withdrew her objection and custody was granted to Preston.

Sir Nigel Irvine retired, as scheduled, on the last day of the year, departing his office in time for Christmas. He went to live at his cottage in Langton Matravers, where he joined fully in the life of the village and told anyone who asked that, prior to retirement, he had done “something boring in Whitehall.”

Jan Marais was summoned to Pretoria in early December for consultations. As the Boeing 747 of South African Airlines lifted off from Heathrow, two burly NIS agents emerged from the flight crew rest area and put handcuffs on him. He did not enjoy his retirement, the whole of which was spent several feet below ground level assisting teams of large gentlemen with their inquiries.

The arrest of Marais having taken place in public, news of it soon leaked out, which alerted General Karpov that his sleeper had been burned. He was confident that Marais—Frikki Brandt—would not long resist the interrogators, and waited for the arrest of George Berenson and the consequent dismay in the Western Alliance.

In mid-December, Berenson took early retirement from the ministry, but there was no arrest. After the personal intervention of Sir Nigel Irvine, the man was allowed to retire to the British Virgin Islands on a small but adequate pension from his wife.

The news told General Karpov that his top agent had not only been blown, but turned as well. What he did not know was just when Berenson had been turned to the service of the British. Then, from inside Karpov’s own rezidentura in London, KGB agent Andreyev reported he had heard a rumor to the effect that Berenson had turned to MI5 from the very first approach Jan Marais had ever made to him.

Within a week the analysts at Yasyenevo had to accept that three years of what was actually perfectly good intelligence would have to be junked as suspect from the start.

It was the Master’s last stroke.

About the Author

FREDERICK FORSYTH is the author of eight best-selling novels: The Day of the Jackal, The Odessa File, The Dogs of War, The Devil’s Alternative, The Fourth Protocol, The Negotiator, The Deceiver, and The Fist of God. He has also written an acclaimed collection of short fiction, No Comebacks. He lives outside London.