Beyond the Night Road 2

A spy espionage thriller that is set in the early 1970's.

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11. Beyond the Night Road-Part Eleven

***

London, England.

October 3, 1972

9:00 AM.

The cold, bitter, northerly wind blew across Katherine's freezing face. She had remembered Harold's assertion that the political news that Watergate's grip had overtaken all of Europe's newspapers. She knew Ronald James, her ex-lover, was working for The Galway Times, and was an expert in Irish and American relations since January of nineteen fifty-eight. She gripped her black coat with her black mittens with her hands; she walked towards Fleet Street where the bankers, and financiers in the money trade, made their millions in the London Stock Exchange; she was aware that Sir Charles Black, the Chief Economist, wouldn't spill the beans on blatant corporate greed that led to six lawyers being jailed for leaking important details of the Prime Minister's crime policy. She jogged down the gravelly path towards the cheap looking chairs; she saw a man was holding a tan suitcase. He looked nervous, as if he was going to be busted for espionage and selling out state secrets to the USSR.

    "You're early", Donald East said.

    "I was in training for the London Marathon", Katherine told him. 

    "Really. I was thinking that spies weren't physically active, unless they could perform their duties for Queen Elizabeth II", Donald smiled. Katherine looked at him with a growing distrust. She glanced at the watch on his right hand; she knew it was nine-ten AM. 
    "Nicolai Andronovich, the Head of the KGB in Moscow, has stated that he wasn't the person who leaked the classified information at the Kremlin; he was in Paris, France, on secret business that affected Jean-Paul Martins, the French Prime Minister". Donald glanced at the people walking in the park.

    "And now you're expecting Moscow to be reactive?", Katherine asked him. 

    "The USSR is a country who supports French terrorists like Peter Kimball. He is in Oslo on a mission that is top secret. All information about Kimball is in code. No one knows he's in France except Martins himself; no one wants to think Kimball will blow up the Louvre. By nineteen sixty-five onward, Kimball worked for Mossad. He is a contract killer for hire. The rumour was that, in West Germany, he met Prime Minister Gerard De Pole. Pole wanted better security for the German Army, was overly neurotic after winning the nineteen sixty-six election. Kimball visited Tel Aviv last week on business. He was photographed boarding a plane for Moscow after spending the night there. According to MI5, and MI6 declassified documents from nineteen forty-three, and nineteen forty-four, Kimball's parents worked as teachers in High Schools. Kimball was trained by the Isreal Army in warfare during the nineteen sixty-seven Six Year War against the Palestinians. Every thing else from nineteen sixty-nine to nineteen seventy-one, is classified", Donald answered. He shoved the suitcase near Katherine's feet. She saw several people taking photographs of the park; she waited before she took it in her right hand. Donald felt the cold chill in his bones, then he left the female spy alone, and disappeared from view.

***

The Kremlin, USSR

October 11, 1972

11:00 AM.

Michael Andropov sat still in the old office. He shifted uncomfortably as Stella Lowe, the British MI5 Agent. She smiled at him. "The English are concerned about Andronovich", she said. Michael smoked a cigarette. "Everyone's on edge. Besides, there's no playing field when it comes to international espionage", he said. He focused his attention on the framed picture of Andronovich that was on the left of the clean wall. Stella looked at the double doors; she waited for something to happen, before she looked out of the glass window. She coughed twice; she waited for the sound of feet coming down the darkening hallway; she took a deep sigh, and waited patiently for the telephone to ring. 

     By 11:30 AM, half an hour later, General Igor Sherpinskoy, arrived. He cast an ominous shadow at the small group of agents; he stood at a salute. "I was held up by protestors", he said. He closed the door, and sat down on the third, black, chair. Michael saluted back. "The whole of Europe is in turmoil, General. Besides, in my belief, Moscow is rife with criminals who are attacking the new computer systems; some are attacking NASA", he told him. "And we're here to talk to spies about frivolous plots against America. President Nixon is in a bind over Watergate. His mind isn't on the wars outside America". The General smiled. He stood still. "Coffee, General?", Stella asked. He nodded. Michael waited. "The world has changed since the Munich incident in Isreal. Everyone is on edge. Spies are using modern technology these days that will make things better for everyone. It's a road to success that is fraught with dangers beyond our control; it is beyond all things political in the event of social changes which dominate Mankind. But, these days, all Governments need us more than ever. And the Military has extra security measures to battle internal-and external-threats", the General added. Stella, who was fluent in Russian, French, and German, shook her head. "And now we're watching America dig a huge hole that it won't get out of", she said. She sipped more of her coffee, as the weather dropped to twenty-five degrees. Michael waited before speaking. "Soon it'll be Christmas in December. What now?", he asked the General. The General shook his head. "Now we shall communicate with Russian Intelligence on all matters of security. Since it's almost Midday, let's enjoy some lunch".

***

 

 

Page 11.

 

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