Charlie M Read Online Free Page A

man.
    â€˜You know what I mean, Charlie,’ he said, urgently. ‘Look at us. Apart from being born in different countries and being absolutely committed to opposite sides, we’re practically identical. And we’re freaks, Charlie. Whoever heard of two spies, both out in the field, alive and nudging fifty?’
    Charlie shrugged, uncomfortably.
    â€˜I know,’ he agreed.
    â€˜I was losing my grip, Charlie,’ admitted Berenkov. ‘And I think Moscow was beginning to realise it. I’ve been scared for the last two years. But now everything is all right.’
    â€˜Sure?’ questioned Charlie.
    â€˜Positive,’ insisted Berenkov, with his usual confidence. ‘Look at the facts. I’ll spend a couple of years here, warm, safe and comfortable as a guest of Her Majesty’s Government, then be exchanged …’
    He leaned back, eyes distant, reflecting his future.
    â€˜I’ve retired, Charlie,’ he said. ‘Waiting for me in Moscow is a wife I’ve only ever seen for two or three weeks a year, on phoney wine-buying trips to Europe. And a son of eighteen I’ve met just once …’
    He came back to the Briton.
    â€˜â€¦ he’s studying engineering at Moscow University,’ continued Berenkov. ‘He’ll pass with a First. I’m very proud.’
    Charlie nodded, knowing it would be wrong to interrupt the reminiscence.
    â€˜I shall go back to full honours, fêted as a hero. I’ve a government apartment I’ve never seen and a dacha in the hills outside Moscow. I’ll teach at the spy college and spend the summers in the sun at Sochi. Think of it, Charlie – won’t it be wonderful!’
    â€˜Wonderful,’ said Charlie.
    The Russian hesitated, appearing uncertain. The need to hit back at someone who had proved himself superior surfaced.
    â€˜What about you, Charlie?’ worried the Russian. ‘What’s your future … where’s your sunshine …?’
    Outside, the rain finally broke, driven against the windows with sharp, hissing sounds by the growing wind. Charlie moved his foot inside the worn-out shoe. Bugger it, he thought.
    â€˜If I hadn’t been caught, Charlie, I’d have been withdrawn. Operatives our age are expendable.’
    The memory of the exploding Volkswagen and the way it had ignited the body of Günther Bayer pushed itself into Charlie’s mind.
    â€˜I know,’ he said, softly.
    â€˜But there is a difference,’ said Berenkov, scoring still. ‘Russia never forgets a spy … my release is guaranteed …’
    He paused, allowing the point to register.
    â€˜â€¦ but Britain couldn’t give a bugger,’ he sneered. ‘I’d hate to work in your service, Charlie.’
    The man was right, accepted the Briton. The eagerness of the British Government to dissociate itself from a captured operative had always been obscene. How much enjoyment Cuthbertson and Wilberforce would get, cutting him off, thought Charlie, bitterly.
    â€˜It’s a great incentive not to get caught,’ said Charlie, hollowly.
    â€˜Bullshit,’ replied Berenkov quickly. ‘How your people can ever expect anyone to work for them I’ll never understand. Russia might have its faults … and it’s got them, millions of them. But at least it’s got loyalty.’
    â€˜Moscow will be very strange to you, after so long,’ Charlie tried to recover.
    Berenkov shrugged, uncaring.
    â€˜But I’ll be able to wake up in the morning without those sixty seconds of gut-churning fear while you wait to see if you’re alone … without having to turn immediately, to ensure that the pistol is still under the pillow and hasn’t been taken by the man you always expect to be waiting at the end of the bed.’
    It was as if the other man were dictating the fears that he was daily experiencing, thought Charlie.
    â€˜How many more