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After she’d left, he lingered for a while concerned she knew his real name but concluded it could have been a lucky guess he’d confirmed when he didn’t correct her, after all, she’d been at this ‘game’ a long time, or perhaps her SIS case officer had been authorised by the Old Man to tell her as part of establishing his bona fides. He let it go, paid the bill and applied his mind to the cryptic clues she’d given him as he found the U-Bahn again.
The train glided from the tunnel and halted gracefully next to the platform. He stepped in and took a seat then it came to him, a conversation late one night almost a decade ago in a Berlin safe house. They were handing Radler back to the East Germans the following day. Pouring what he thought would be Harald’s last Asbach, the talk relaxed but the East German insisted Gally join him. A cunning old fox but somehow very likeable, he held his glass up for yet another refill. Why not?
“You know, Gally, you could always defect and enjoy the delights of communism. Now, let’s pretend you wanted to. How would you do it? No! Don’t tell me! I know. You would spend years honing your body to perfection then wait until Moscow hosted the Olympics and simply run off after you’d won gold in the doggie paddle.” They’d both laughed. “Or I suppose you could just go to Sweden on holiday and get train tickets to Leningrad from Folkturist. You Westerners have it so easy” Radler had given a wry smile. “It’s not so easy for us. I doubt I’ll ever be given foreign work again, not that it matters; I’ve never been a keen flyer. But, you know, I think a long train journey would be taken at the end of which I wouldn’t be there. Probably, I’d get off after the last border checks and take a train somewhere else. West, always west, looking for the weakest part to cross. I think I’d need some assistance to get my portly body elegantly through the wire though.” He downed the Asbach. “But, enough of this fantasy. I think I need some beauty sleep if I’m to look my best in the morning.”
Gally smiled to himself. Harald was going to do a runner during his trip away. This was his chance. He’d probably waited to know he had a firm offer of help where it was needed most and knew if he could trust anyone it would be his old late-night drinking buddy. The torch reference clearly indicated it would be a night attempt. The old goat had been planning it for years but what had triggered it now? It would be useful in assessing the honesty of the initial approach but, whether or not they could find that information, Gally had a fair idea of which frontier Radler would head for. He discounted the West German/Czechoslovak border; it was too close to his first destination and would leave no time to organise assistance and, anyway, the mention of ‘the tenth’ was a big hint. He found a phone.
“Clive, I need the Hungarian and Romanian train timetables. Oh, and maps, I need something with a bit of detail but not too much at this stage, old road maps or pages from an atlas, just so I’ve got some idea which direction the trains are heading. How long would it take you to get them from somewhere?”
Clive: “Not too long. Reg will just nip to the ‘library’”
“The local library?”
“No, Gally, the Foreign Office ‘librarian’ will hold this stuff. Reg is on friendly terms but we’ll come up with a cover story just in case. Is that all you need?”
He thought again. “No, any chance you can get me whatever we’ve got on the Hungarian border defences, reports, maps, detailed if possible?”
“Ok. We can fax most of this stuff but you’ll have to go to the consulate then call us to confirm you’re next to their machine. We have the secure line number. I doubt we’ll be able to get it to you before eleven tomorrow but we’ll try. Call in the morning, about nine. Now, the detailed map issue? We’ll sort it using the diplomatic courier. They’ve two flights a day into Gatow so once we secure copies you should have them later the same day. Speak to Aubrey at the consulate; he’s the chap you dealt with yesterday. Anything else?”
An afterthought: “Yeah, actually. See if you can delve into our boy’s background, find what may have happened in the recent past to have spurred him on?”
“Didn’t you think to ask your contact?”
“No, it’s not long occurred to me.”
Gallagher headed back to his hotel, showered then headed out to find a decent restaurant.
Reg’s FO librarian friend was curious. Why did the Stats Unit want train timetables for Eastern Bloc countries? Despite Reg’s age, he was still slick; a junior minister had asked for some meaningful statistics to compare British Rail’s intercity travel with the Warsaw Pact equivalents, punctuality, that sort of thing. They both had a decent laugh about that; meaningful statistics! The librarian was still smiling on the way home.