The Doll’s House by Evelyn Anthony Page B

people like you. Werner, you’re blown, your career’s finished. You’ll be thrown on the rubbish heap. If they want to be nasty they’ll make it very difficult for you to get any kind of decent job. And they will be nasty, believe me.
    â€˜Colonel Zarubin, you’re a marked man. Too hard line, too close to the enemies of glasnost. No promotion for you. Demotion, instead. Already happened, hasn’t it?’ he asked the Russian. ‘Lost your top post at the Institute to a new man. Ten years older, but he’s got liberal leanings. He wants the KGB to be accountable. You’ll be joining your father soon, sitting on a park bench like Khrushchev, mercifully allowed to live … Daniel, your life isn’t worth twenty-four hours’ insurance. Your pals in Mossad will be given you as a present before long. And Monika—’ He shook his head a little. ‘Time’s run out for you too. You bought a lot of it by working for some funny people and they’ve been bleeding you ever since. And you know too much about them.’
    Her blue eyes glittered at him; she drew the cashmere round her shoulders.
    â€˜I can look out for myself,’ she said.
    He shrugged.
    â€˜If you say so. But the fact is that every one of us is finished. Some have a pretty low-grade future, others don’t have a future at all. We have a saying at home – it’s typical of English humbug – out to grass. You haven’t heard of it? It’s what we do with our old horses when we haven’t any use for them. We turn them out into a field and leave them there to die of boredom. And we don’t have to feed them either.’
    â€˜We send ours to the slaughterhouse and sell them for meat,’ Monika remarked.
    â€˜I think it’s kinder,’ Harry Oakham said. ‘Well, I’m not ready for retirement! Nobody’s putting me out to grass. I want my share for a change. Our masters,’ he used the term with contempt, ‘may not have any use for us, but there are others who have. We’ve got plenty to offer and I’ve got people who want it. I’m going into business and I’m inviting you to join me.’
    It was the Russian who spoke then. ‘Supposing it’s true – what you’ve just said about us – what kind of business?’
    â€˜The terror business,’ Oakham said lightly. ‘That’s what we’ve been trained for and that’s all we know. Only this time we operate for money. Lots of money. We can name our price, Colonel. I’ve already named mine and it’s been agreed. Now it’s your turn.’
    â€˜Who’s prepared to pay?’ Rilke demanded. He sipped mineral water and wiped his lips with a silk handkerchief. He was a fastidious man.
    â€˜I’ve spoken to the Libyans,’ was the answer. ‘They’ll finance the operation to the extent of buying the cover and meeting the costs of setting it up. I asked for four million in sterling and they didn’t hesitate.’
    There was a hiss of breath among them, a movement of surprise. He really had them now.
    â€˜They’ve agreed to pay this out?’ Daniel knew the Libyan set up better than anyone in the room. Gaddafi gave money like turning on a tap and letting it run, but he wanted value for it.
    â€˜Yes,’ Harry nodded. ‘For the services we can offer, it was cheap at the price. I did some negotiating in advance on behalf of the rest of you. One hundred thousand in sterling paid into individual numbered accounts in this delightful city. That’s the retainer. Afterwards we’d get paid by results. All subject to the risk and complexity of the job involved. I think I got a bloody good deal.’
    Vassily Zarubin laughed. He hadn’t smiled before, but then he laughed. ‘I think so too. I like it.’
    â€˜Rilke?’ Harry asked.
    The German pinched his lip; he had irritating mannerisms, Harry