He'd have to work for it. 'How many men did you bring here?'

His eyes flicked away. 'Six. There are two waiting by the car, and four are dispersed at a distance.' But not at a great distance, because the tobacco smoke. 'And you?'

'One.' He knew perfectly well how many I'd brought: he would have monitored my passage through the checkpoint by radio-phone. 'Unarmed,' I said, to make my point.

He looked down. 'There are hunters in these woods. We don't want be disturbed.'

Then we both fell silent, each waiting for the other to take things further. I wasn't in any hurry, but it wasn't long before he half-filled tumbler again and took a swig and said, 'Let me tell you that we need someone from London who is willing to work with us for a time. My department said there was no one, but I told them that I believed there was such a man. We need someone still active in the field, a man knows how to take care of himself, because this will not be easy, you understand. It will not be — ' gesturing towards the remains of our meal '- a picnic.'

I didn't say anything. He offered me the last pirozhki but I shook my head.

'There is some tea.' He brought a huge thermos flask from behind the tree stump and filled two plastic cups, his hand shaking a little. For the first time it struck me that at this precise moment his nerves weren't any better than mine.

'No,' he said, 'it will not be a picnic.' The tea steamed thickly, giving off a sharp earthy scent. 'My assignment has been handed to me indirectly from Comrade General-Secretary Gorbachev, as you have been told. If I make any mistakes, I shall be cut down in the middle of my career. My career means a great deal to me. It means everything.'

He had small nicotine-brown eyes sunk under a deep brow, and at this moment I had the impression they were looking out at me from shelter. The risk, I could see now, wasn't going to be all mine.

'Gorbachev called you in?'

'Yes, but — '

I mean personally? You met with him about this?'

'No.' He looked quietly appalled. 'And I have to be very careful to keep his name out of it. After the most careful deliberations I decided to trust your Mr Shepley — ' he pronounced it as Shepili '- and to trust you. But if I am wrong, I am finished.'

I could see what he meant. They're not terribly charitable in Moscow towards people who screw up. I waited for a bit and then said, 'I can't speak for Shepley, but on my own account you can trust me as far as your first wrong move, and then God help you.'

He opened his hands again, bringing his head an inch lower in a perfectly clear gesture of submission. 'That is perhaps more than I could hope for. We shall be working under a great deal of stress, you see, a great deal of pressure, and it might sometimes be easy to suspect each other of duplicity. We must avoid that. Above all we must avoid that.' Turning away, turning back, 'My superiors have been understandably reticent on the matter of Comrade Gorbachev's personal involvement in this, but it is not precluded that an exchange has taken place between him and your Prime Minister Thatcher. Unofficially, of course. Has Mr Shepley mentioned this?'

'No.'

'It is my opinion. We are dealing with — ' his eyes held steadily on mine at last '- a matter of extremely high security, not only within the intelligence community but on the highest levels of government.'

Shot.

'Then you might have to find someone else.'

A slight chill along the spine. It had only been faint, but I suppose it was the suddenness, and the image of a man going down. 'Someone else?'

'To work with you instead of me.'

'Why is that?'

'It sounds too political. Too big.'

The sound of the gun came again and he took out a miniature walkie-talkie and pulled the antenna up and switched it on and spoke into it. 'Keep them away.'

Not man, rabbit, that was all. I took a sip of tea and burned my lips but the flavour was good, rich and raw and leaving a bitter after-taste.

'I would not have asked for you,' Yasolev said, 'if I didn't think it was something that suited your talents. Later I shall reassure you.'

'What's it to do with? Give me the gist.'

He hesitated and then pulled himself upright in his black coat, as if suddenly called upon to account for himself. 'There is a British mole buried in Berlin, on this side. He is a grave danger.'

'So what's the HUA doing?' East German Counterintelligence were extremely efficient, normally.

'They cannot reach him.'

'What about you people?'

'If we could reach him, we wouldn't have asked for your help.'

'Quite a mole.'

'He is more than that.'

'More than a mole?'

'Yes. From what we have learned, he is here in order to fulfil a specific assignment.'

'For the British government?'

'No. For whoever is paying him.' He took out a rumpled handkerchief and unfolded it.

'You don't know who's paying him?'

'We believe it is someone in the Kremlin.' He blew his nose, making much of it, giving his nerves some action.

'Jesus Christ,' I said, and started walking about. 'I'm surprised you didn't ask me if I was wired.'

He folded his handkerchief carefully, his eyes watering in the cold air. 'We made the approach. We have to trust you. And your Mr Shepili.'

I took a minute to think and then said, 'You've got the wrong word.'

He'd used 'krot'. 'You don't mean he's a mole, Yasolev; you mean he's an operator.' Rabotnik. 'So let me straighten it out a bit: you're talking about a British operator buried in East Berlin and preparing some kind of a strike, and he's being paid to do it, possibly by someone inside the Kremlin. Is that right?'

'Yes.'

'Who's his target, then?'

'Comrade General-Secretary Gorbachev.'

Oh my God.

British.

Of course. They couldn't risk using a Soviet.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.' He was watching me steadily now, with the eyes of a man who had just thrown down four aces. 'So you see, we felt that your department might agree that it would be in the best interests of the British government for you to help us.'

I didn't show anything. In a moment I said, 'No wonder you're nervous, Yasolev.'

'No more than you.'

'I haven't accepted the mission.'

He shrugged, kicking up the fibrous earth with the toe of his creased black shoe. 'I hope you will.'

Hope on, then, comrade. Two heads on the block, Thatcher's and Gorbachev's, if that operator pulled off his assignment: Gorbachev's because he was the target and Thatcher's because if a British national hit the Chairman of the Praesidium of the Supreme Soviet her government wouldn't last the night.

Not quite my cup of tea, but I suppose it was a compliment that Shepley had called me in and I'd been sent to this rendezvous to listen to Yasolev and check out the job, so I'd better do that.

'What makes you think I can do what the HUA and the KGB combined can't do?'

'This man is British, and you have resources in London that we can't tap. You might — ' a hand shrugging '- how shall I say? You might pick up his trail from there.'

'How much time have we got?'

'Think of it as a short fuse, already burning.'

'All right, so I could make a start over there and with a bit of luck pick up his trail and then move into Berlin for the kill, but what about you, Yasolev? Where would you be?'

'In close support.'

'You mean you'd be running me?'

'We would be supporting you, as a free agent under our protection.'

'We? The whole of the KGB?'

'No.' He took a step closer. 'Just my immediate cell, inside the department.'

'Your immediate cell?'

Quietly he said, 'You must understand that inside the Kremlin there are factions opposed to the Comrade General-Secretary's policy of perestroika. That is why he dismissed Yeltsin, the head of the Party, a week ago. Inside the KGB there are certain factions similarly opposed. ' Drily, 'Internecine warfare along the corridors of power is not the exclusive prerogative of democratic governments.'