“You have spoken to Malenkov?” the president asked, ignoring any pretense of civility.
“As you requested.”
“And how is he?”
“Some things never change. I was lucky to catch him in Moscow. He spends much of his time in Portugal these days.”
“Does he?”
“That’s what he tells me.”
The president’s gaze held Vasin with its characteristic deadness. The way a shark eyed a passing fish. “Malenkov is one of us. What he tells you means nothing. The GRU is watching him, are you not?”
“We keep an eye on him, yes, but not continuous surveillance.Those were your instructions when he left SSD. I believe your words were ‘A leash, but make it a long one.’ ”
Yermilov canted his head noncommittally. “I recall. I had no reason to view him as a threat, and that hasn’t changed. This time of year, the seaside near Porto is quite pleasant.”
Vasin was quite sure he’d never mentioned the city where Malenkov had taken up residence. It was classic Yermilov, playing intelligence agencies against one another. Using information to throw underlings off.
Vasin said, “As you requested, I asked him about this air crash in Turkey.”
“And?”
“He claims to know nothing about it.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I have no reason not to. I know for a fact he was in Russia at the time of the crash, in the far north.”
“What was he doing there?”
“He needed a bit of manpower for a project and visited one of our corrective colonies. It seems he still has connections in the Ministry of Justice.”
“Did you ask him about this?”
“No, we have simply been monitoring his travels. We know he’s gone private. Guns, mercenaries—the usual contract work. He teaches barefoot Africans how to shoot and blow things up, then leaves with his pockets full of diamonds. I don’t know specifically what he was recruiting for in a prison, but these are the best places to find a few desperate men. Malenkov got what he wanted and moved on.”
“Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”
Vasin felt a wave of relief. He wondered how long it had been since Yermilov had spoken directly to Malenkov. DuringMalenkov’s short tenure as the head of SSD, Vasin knew of no contact between the two. Which, he allowed, was the point of the entire arrangement—putting as much distance as possible between the Kremlin and the chaos orchestrated on its behalf. Malenkov would surely have avoided the president since being removed from the helm of SSD. When you were sacked from any important post in Russia, the best course was to lie low—it lessened the odds remarkably of falling out a tenth-floor window.
Vasin wasn’t troubled by the fact that Malenkov was dabbling in contract work, nor would the president be concerned. Done discreetly, it was simply a retirement benefit—a kind of pension supplement for senior intelligence officers.
Vasin said, “I am wondering why you asked me to meet with him. Did you have reason to suspect that Malenkov was involved in this crash?”
“Not at all. But it is an unusually high-profile disaster. I want to be sure our hands are completely clean.”
A shrug. “American airplanes can crash without our help.”
“True. All the same, if you hear any whisperings to the contrary, I want to be informed immediately.”
“Of course. Is there anything else?”
“There is one other matter. Gunther Klaus.”
Vasin’s caution rose. This was a subject he had hoped would not come up. “Yes, we have been watching him.”
“Good. A man like that, we must always keep an eye on him. The last time we spoke, you expressed certain concerns about his reliability.”
