“He’s SVR? You’re sure of it?”
“He’s a Moscow Center hood, one hundred percent.”
They walked on, the snow icy and slick beneath their feet. “Does Sergei give you your marching orders?” asked Navot. “Or are you a self-starter?”
“A little of both.”
“What’s the tradecraft?”
“Old school. If I have something, I draw the shades in an upstairs window on a Friday. The following Tuesday, I get a wrong-number phone call. They always ask to speak to a woman. The name they use corresponds to the place Sergei wants to meet.”
“For example?”
“Trudi.”
“Where’s Trudi?”
“Linz.”
“Who else?”
“Sophie and Anna. They’re both in Germany.”
“Is that all?”
“No. There’s Sabine. Sabine is a flat in Strasbourg.”
“How do you account for all the travel?”
“I do a lot of liaison work.”
“I’ll say.” Somewhere a dog was barking, deep and low. “And me?” asked Navot. “When did you tell the Russians about your relationship with me?”
“I never did, Uzi. I swear on Lotte’s life, I never told them.”
“Don’t swear, Werner. It insults my intelligence. Just tell me where it happened. Was it Trudi? Sophie? Anna?”
Werner Schwarz shook his head. “It happened before Sergei came on the scene, when I was still under the control of the Viennarezidentura.”
“How much did you get for me?”
“Not much.”
“Story of my life,” said Navot. “I assume the Russians exploited the situation?”
“Exploited?”
“They used you as a means of spying onme. They also used you as a conduit to whisper false or misleading information into my ear. In fact, I’m well within my rights to assume that everything you’ve told me for the past five years was written by Moscow Center.”
“That not’s true.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me the Russians had approached you? Why didn’t you give me the opportunity to whisper a little filth intotheirear?” Greeted by silence, Navot answered his own question. “Because Sergei Morosov said he would kill you if you did.” After a pause, Navot asked, “No denial, Werner?”
Werner Schwarz shook his head. “They play rough, the Russians.”
“Not as rough as we do.” Navot slowed to a stop and seized Werner Schwarz’s arm in an iron grip. “But tell me something else. Where did the Russians tell you they were planning to kill an SVR defector in Vienna? Was it Trudi? Anna?”
“It was Sophie,” admitted Werner Schwarz. “The meeting happened at Sophie.”
