his wiring.
‘Help me carry this into the hall. Then we sit and watch TV till nine.’
‘Suits me,’ I said. ‘I can use a little vicarious excitement.’
----
* See Appendix 1.
Chapter 10
It’s a weird feeling to have only a layer of ice between you and the sea; weirder still to drive out across the Baltic in a Volkswagen. Even Signe had been a little nervous about that, especially with the four of us inside it, for the ice would not last a lot longer. When we had driven off the land, Signe and Harvey had studied the shrinkage and cracking of the ice at the water’s edge and pronounced it safe.
We were four because Ralph Pike was with us now. He had said hardly anything since we had picked him up at a draughty street corner where the Hanko road leaves Helsinki. He was wearing a peaked cap of brown leather and a long black overcoat. He loosened his scarf when he got into the car and I could see the collar of his overalls under the coat.
When we had driven for ten minutes or so across the plain of frozen sea Harvey said, ‘All out.’ It was a dark night. The ice glowed and theair smelt of putrefaction. Harvey connected the roof rack to two batteries. He tested the circuit. The lights fixed to the roof rack came on, but paper cones prevented them from being visible from the shore line. I fancied that I could see the lights of Porkkala to the south-west—for the coast bends south along here—but Signe said that it would be too far away. Harvey took a measure of the wind with a little spinner and then reparked the VW so that the lights would show the pilot the direction of the wind. He switched off two of the lights to indicate the wind speed.
Ralph Pike asked Harvey if he could smoke. I knew how he felt, for in an operation like this nerves take over and you rest so heavily upon the skill of the dispatcher that you ask his permission even to breathe.
‘One last good cigar,’ Ralph Pike said to no one, and no one answered. Harvey looked at his watch and said, ‘Time to get ready.’ I noticed that Harvey had forgotten his resolve not to let Pike get a good look at him and stayed close to him all the time. Harvey got a piece of canvas out of the front of the car and then Pike took his overcoat off and they wrapped the coat into the canvas and strapped it up very tight on a long strap, the other end of which they fixed to the belt of Ralph Pike’s overalls. The overalls were very complicated with lots of zip fasteners, and under the arm there was a leather piece that held a long-bladed knife. Pike took off the peaked cap and tucked it inside his overall which hethen zipped up tight to the neck. Harvey gave him one of those Sorbo-rubber helmets that paratroops wear on practice drops. Then Harvey walked around Pike, tugging and patting and saying ‘You’ll be all right,’ as though to convince himself. When he was sure everything was exactly as prescribed he got a Pan-Am bag from inside the car. He rummaged around inside it. ‘I’m ordered to give you these things,’ Harvey said, as though he didn’t want to really, but I don’t think he meant that—he was just over-keen to do everything by the book.
First he handed over a bundle of Russian paper money that was little bigger than a wad of visiting cards, and some coins jangled. I heard Harvey say, ‘Gold louis, don’t flash them around.’
‘I won’t be flashing anything around,’ Pike said angrily.
Harvey just nodded and twisted a silk scarf inside out to demonstrate the map that was printed on the silk lining. I would have thought silk a little ostentatious for Russia, but nobody asked my opinion. Then Harvey gave him a prismatic compass that was designed as an old-fashioned turnip watch (complete with a chain that was used as a measure for distance-judging). Then they did a countdown on his papers: ‘Army service card,’ ‘Check,’ ‘Former residence card,’ ‘Check,’ ‘Passport,’ ‘Check,’ ‘Working paper,’ ‘Check.’
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham