To: The Italian Trade Minister
From: The Macarena
Subject: Europop
Message: Translation ready
Ruth's phone rang an hour after sending the message.
"The links are to a small radical group who's aim is the return of the Soviet Union by exorcising all Western influence."
"She never wanted the talks to succeed?"
"No. Everything: the attempted assassination on Ilya, Tariq, the leaks; all of it was orchestrated by them."
"To destabilise Anglo Russian relations."
"Harry..."
He knew that tone and he knew it boded badly.
"She's worked with them for... years."
"Go on."
"Since Berlin."
And there it was, Elena really had played him.
"I was her asset," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
"You, of all people, have nothing to be sorry for, Ruth. You're the wise one in this ..."
He was about to say 'relationship' but decided better of it.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Ruth."
"Something stupid?" she suggested with a smile, before ploughing quickly on. "I'll email you all that I've found."
"Thank you."
"Harry... what will you do next?"
He hesitated for the merest of moments.
"Use it."
