Page 13 of End Game
THERUSSIANEMBASSYin Kensington Palace Gardens was busy that afternoon. The final preparations for the evening’s gala reception were in full swing, and the rooms were busy with staff hoovering carpets and setting out chairs, while caterers and florists hurried up and down stairs. Every now and then somebody would stop to admire the masterpieces on the walls, with one particular painting that had been moved from the ambassador’s office to the drawing room attracting by far the most attention.
Three individuals were meeting in a back room around a small conference table. The door was closed – and locked – and the conversation was carried out in hushed tones. This was a far more conspicuous place than they were used to meeting. The presence of the Russian Ambassador, Anatoly Mikailov, and his security officer, Sergei Petrov, was of course unremarkable, and in the hurried rush of this busy day, it was easy for thediminutive figure of Sun Anqi to come and go unnoticed.
‘Why am I here?’ Sun Anqi asked the men seated opposite her.
‘Because,’ explained Mikailov, ‘Petrov has made a decision I thought you ought to be made aware of.’
‘I did not consider it was necessary to inform you,’ said Petrov, his eyes trained on Sun Anqi, ‘but I have been advised otherwise.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I have come to accept that if my plan is to have any chance of success, I will need an Englishman to join the team.’
Sun Anqi remained silent. She stared across the table, focusing on the space between the two men, but didn’t offer an opinion.
‘What I need,’ Petrov continued, ‘is someone who can be at ease among the establishment, while at the same time having reliable contacts in the criminal world. Even more importantly, they need to be bright, resourceful and ruthless in equal measure, while also possessing a weakness that we can take advantage of, so we can be certain of their total commitment.’
‘Does such a person exist?’ demanded Sun Anqi, wanting to make it clear she was against the whole idea of allowing an outsider to join their team.
‘I initially wondered that myself,’ admitted Petrov. ‘I feared it might prove impossible to find someone who could carry out the job and at the same time be willing to betray their country. I had four candidates on my shortlist. However, two of them were quickly eliminated, as their only interest was how much they would be paid,’ he paused, ‘in advance.’
This was proof enough of a bad idea, as far as Sun Anqi was concerned. She folded her arms and asked, ‘And the other two? What were their weaknesses?’
‘For one, women,’ replied Petrov. ‘After a couple of nights with one of our more experienced escorts, he revealed all the details of his most recent assignment, so she didn’t need to spend a third night with him.
‘However, my fourth candidate comes recommended from a Russian who came across him in jail. He told me even the prison officers were cautious when dealing with him, so I believe I have found someone who is not only well-qualified for the job, but also has one particular weakness, almost an addiction, that I feel confident we can take advantage of.’
‘If it isn’t sex or money, what’s left?’ asked Sun Anqi.
‘Masterpieces is the simple answer,’ replied Petrov. The Ambassador nodded. ‘Our target once crossed an ocean to try and get his hands on a Titian and came back empty-handed. He has a passion for art bordering on an obsession. For him, a unique piece of art is like a mistress he has to possess.’
‘And what masterpiece do you have to tempt him with?’ asked Sun Anqi, still sounding unconvinced.
‘The Van Gogh, currently hanging in the drawing room,’ Petrov replied.
‘But where has this masterpiece come from?’ pressed Sun Anqi.
‘The painting was originally part of Hermann Göring’s private collection,’ explained the Russian Ambassador. ‘However, I have now acquired it from the Hermitage – after President Putin had a word with the director.’
‘The disappearance of such an important work of art wouldn’t go unnoticed,’ suggested Sun Anqi.
‘That shouldn’t prove a problem,’ said the Ambassador. ‘The Hermitage has nine Van Goghs, and I suspect the moment our man sets eyes on the self-portrait, he’ll be trapped.’
‘But if it’s an addiction, when he wakes up in the morning,’ said Sun Anqi, still unconvinced, ‘perhaps he’ll want another fix.’
‘I think you will find, Sun Anqi,’ said Petrov, ‘that I’ve identified a mistress, not a one-night stand.’
There was a long pause before anyone spoke.
At last, Sun Anqi looked up. Her eyes met Petrov’s. ‘Be warned. He’ll end up a liability.’
‘He is a necessity,’ Petrov replied sharply.
Sun Anqi raised her voice. Whenever she did so, it sounded like a threat. ‘Don’t expect me to trust him.’
‘We are in need of a traitor; an honest man is of no use to us. However, if we persuade the candidate to join us, it will be entirely in his interests to remain loyal – and he will no doubt be made aware of the consequences if he does not.’
Sun Anqi smiled at the thought that her particular skills might still be required. She wanted him to fail.
‘He will have no reason to betray us,’ said the Russian Ambassador. ‘If he wants to keep the Van Gogh, he will have to do as we say. And once the Games are over – and I meanover– he certainly won’t want to admit to anyone how he came into possession of such a masterpiece.’
‘He also has another weakness that we can take advantage of,’ added Petrov. ‘He has a long history with the officer in charge of security for the Olympic Games – and they are anything but old friends.’
