War with Russia

Their GCHQ escort, a middle-aged lady from Protocol, took them into the open-air garden courtyard situated in the middle of the Doughnut and they sat at a bench close to the memorial to the five GCHQ staff killed on active service in Afghanistan: two Cotswold Stone circles, with the bronze heads of a young woman and a helmeted soldier in profile, facing each other.

“You did well back there,” said McKinlay bluntly, once the escort was out of earshot. “I don’t mean just the op you’ve set up… but you weren’t fazed by that little weasel with the PM—his Director of Communications, Walker… Odious man. Always looking to get something on you that he can trade later.”

Allenby brushed off the compliment with what seemed to McKinlay her trademark briskness, but he wondered as he observed her, was it really shyness?

“Thank you, General, but it happens all the time with those types.”

He nodded at her to continue.

“Look, I know you’re heading back to SHAPE, but there’s something you should know that I can’t pass on via the usual channels… Which is why I wanted to grab you before you left.”

McKinlay was intrigued. “I’m listening.”

“It’s about the team of Mercians we’ve got in Latvia—at least they started in Latvia. As you’ll know, they’ve now infiltrated into Kaliningrad from Lithuania. They’ve just completed a close target recce on the nuclear command and control bunker at Pravdinsk, in order to prepare the way for US Special Forces to seize it once we’ve activated Rasputin and established the electronic control I briefed the PM about.”

“OK,” said McKinlay.

“There are two issues of concern you should know about. First, we’ve picked up from the Russian nets that they’ve almost certainly identified the team. Not only that, but the Russians know they were responsible for humiliating the President with the helicopter shoot down at Ligatne. And second, we’ve picked up that the President has personally ordered the Spetsnaz to capture Tom Morland, the Mercian team commander. They want to make a spectacle of him. Before disposing of him, no doubt.”

“How did they manage that?” asked McKinlay.

“By the signature of the data transmissions. Without going into the technicalities, the team signaler has a particular way of putting together the message. He’s good, but he’s not SF, so he hasn’t been trained in the techniques to avoid detection. We’ve picked up on it, so we’re assuming the Russians have, too. They’re brilliant at this sort of thing. We’re now assuming that the Russians picked them up first in Latvia, which would explain how they were able to zero in on the team and then launch that camp attack, which only just failed. Since then, although they’ve only transmitted very occasionally since, they’ll have been tracking the guys through Lithuania… and now we believe that the Russians know they’re in Kaliningrad. So, although their last transmission was some distance from Pravdinsk, it has to be a fair bet that the Russians will put two and two together and work out that they’re probably looking at the nuclear command and control facility there.”

McKinlay rubbed his chin ruminatively. “I see… but I can’t say I’m surprised. It was probably only a matter of time before the Russians caught up with them. So, what you’re saying is that by tracking their radio signature, they may have inadvertently led the Russians to Pravdinsk?”

“Well, General, I was thinking more of the team walking into a trap.”

“Yes, I can see that. They’ve done incredibly well and had amazing luck, but luck usually runs out eventually. The secret of survival, not that I am one to talk,” he smiled as he rapped his artificial leg with his knuckles, “is knowing when it is time to say enough. I think you are telling me that it’s time this chap Morland did just that.”

“Yes, General. Exactly. Although the important news for our plan is that we aren’t getting the sense that Moscow think they are doing anything more than looking.”

“Long may that last. Is there any satellite or radio information that shows troops being moved into the area?”

“No, General.”

“So even though they probably suspect that our boys are going to recce Pravdinsk, they aren’t worried. Haven’t reinforced, or anything?”

“No, General.”

“As I guessed. Or we’d have aborted the mission already. Correct?”

Allenby nodded.

“All of which makes sense, if you think about it. They’re only five soldiers. Not even Special Forces. With a few Forest Brothers. I cannot imagine they will worry the Russians unduly. And yes, I do agree with you, it does look as if they will be expected.”

McKinlay looked hard at the girl as he spoke. Important as this information was, she could just as easily have briefed someone more junior. He had a sense that this girl, who had been so impressive and direct in front of the PM only moments before, was not letting everything on. “Is there something you want me to do?” he asked, trying to keep any gruffness out of his voice. He had a plane to catch and a war to plan.