Red Star Rising by Brian Freemantle

Author:Brian Freemantle [Freemantle, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: det_espionage
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Hunched on his bar corner stool at the Savoy Hotel, Charlie resisted the sink into self-pity, surprised at the feeling: self-pity wasn’t an emotion he very often, if ever, allowed himself. Of all his feelings after such an overfilled day-Natalia still firmly compartmented-the hovering depression was the easiest to identify. When he’d finally left the embassy, less than an hour ago, there had only been six calls to his dedicated telephone numbers: four of them, predictably, had been from journalists, seeking the earlier-refused personal interviews or follow-up information. The other two, predictable again, had been from cranks, a woman complaining that she was being sexually motivated by the FSB with a mind-controlling laser beam, and a man who interspersed his insistence upon a return to communist rule with a slurred rendition of one of the former Soviet Union’s marching anthems. Charlie had tried Pavel’s personal line as well as the two publicly supplied Petrovka numbers and got the answering service on all of them.

Working to retain his momentarily lost objectivity, Charlie acknowledged that it had been ridiculous to expect a worthwhile response so soon after the press conference. As yet, the appeal with its all-important contact numbers was virtually confined to television coverage and the late editions of two evening newspapers, and so far the TV coverage would not have been seen by anyone working normal office or factory hours. Charlie was encouraged by the one early evening TV repeat he had already seen in his suite by the station’s assurances of two additional and longer segments later that night, and the promise of an extended, although edited, version being carried the following day. He wasn’t, though, encouraged by his own hesitant stumbling and very visible perspiration during the press conference questioning. By his own judgement he’d appeared amateurish, suspiciously ill at ease, and haphazardly disheveled alongside the other three men. Briefly allowing a thought of Natalia to emerge from the locked part of his mind, Charlie hoped she would not have watched the full live coverage.

“The victor, savoring his triumph,” said the easily recognizable voice, behind him.

“You staying with fake scotch?” Charlie asked Halliday, not needing to turn to identify the man.

“It’s an acquired taste,” accepted the MI6 man, settling on the adjoining stool.

“What’s the triumph?” asked Charlie, ordering from the attentive bartender.

“Been watching satellite TV,” said Halliday. “CNN got hold of the viewing figures for your event to compare with those of Stepan Lvov’s keynote speech to his party’s annual assembly. You got 76 percent against Lvov’s 24. His people are going to be pissed off with that.”

“The success or otherwise of Stepan Lvov’s election isn’t in the forefront of my mind,” dismissed Charlie.

“It’s picking up elsewhere,” remarked Halliday. “Time magazine made him and that gorgeous Marina their cover story this week-THE MAN TO REVOLUTIONIZE RUSSIA FOR THE SECOND TIME. Thought you would have seen it.”

“I’ve had a few others things on my mind,” said Charlie, sourly.

“And now you’re going to get a hell of a lot more,” predicted Halliday.

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