The Eleventh Commandment

He had changed taxis five times before allowing the last one to drop him outside the theatre. He checked his bag in with an old woman seated behind a counter in the basement, and rented a pair of opera glasses. Leaving the bag gave the management confidence that the glasses would be returned.

When the curtain was finally lowered at the end of the performance, Zerimski rose and waved to the audience once again. The response was not quite so enthusiastic as before, but Connor thought he must have left feeling that his visit to the Bolshoi had been worthwhile. As he strode down the steps of the theatre he loudly informed the departing audience how much he had enjoyed the magnificent performance of Ekaterina Maximova. A line of cars awaited him and his entourage, and he slipped into the back of the third. The motorcade and its police escort whisked him off to another train waiting at another

station. Connor noted that the number of motorcycle outriders had been increased from two to four.

Other people were obviously beginning to think he might be the next President.

Connor arrived at the station a few minutes after Zerimski. He showed a security guard his press pass before purchasing a ticket for the eleven fifty-nine to St Petersburg.

Once he was inside his sleeping compartment he locked the door, switched on the light over his bunk and began to study the itinerary for Zerimski’s visit to St Petersburg.

In a carriage at the other end of the train, the candidate was also going over the itinerary, with his Chief of Staff

Another first-thing-in-the-morning-to-last-thing-at-night sort of day,’ he was grumbling. And that was before Titov had added a visit to the Hermitage.

‘Why should I bother to go to the Hermitage when I’m only in St Petersburg for a few hours?’

‘Because you went to the Pushkin, and not to go to Russia’s most famous museum would be an insult to the citizens of St Petersburg.’

‘Let’s be thankful that we leave before the curtain goes up at the Kirov.’

Zerimski knew that by far the most important meeting of the day would be with General Borodin and the military high command at Kelskow Barracks. If he could persuade the General to withdraw from the presidential race and back him, then the military - almost two and a half million of them - would surely swing behind him, and the prize would be his. He had planned to offer Borodin the position of Defence Secretary until he discovered that Chernopov had already promised him the same post. He knew that Chernopov had been to see the General the previous Monday, and had left empty-handed. Zerimski took this as a good sign. He intended to offer Borodin something he would find irresistible.

Connor also realised that tomorrow’s meeting with the military leader might decide Zerimski’s fate. He switched off the light above his bunk a few minutes after two a.m., and fell asleep.

Mitchell had turned off his light the moment the train had pulled out of the station, but he didn’t sleep.

Sergei had been unable to hide his excitement at the thought of travelling on the Protsky express. He had followed his partner to their compartment like a contented puppy. When Jackson pulled open the door, Sergei announced, ‘It’s bigger than my flat.’ He leapt onto one of the bunks, kicked off his shoes and pulled the blankets over him without bothering to take off any clothes. ‘Saves washing and changing,’ he explained as Jackson hung his jacket and trousers on the flimsiest wire hanger he’d ever seen.

As the American prepared for bed, Sergei rubbed the steamed-up window with an elbow, making a circle he could peer through. He didn’t say another word until the train began to move slowly out of the station.

Jackson climbed into his bunk and switched his light off.

‘How many kilometres to St Petersburg, Jackson?’

‘Six hundred and thirty.’

‘And how long will it take us to get there?’

‘Eight and a half hours. We’ve got another long day ahead of us, so try to get some sleep.’

Sergei switched off his light, but Jackson remained awake. He was now certain that he knew why his friend had been despatched to Russia. Helen Dexter obviously wanted Connor out of the way, but Jackson still didn’t know how far she would go to save her own skin.

He had attempted to ring Andy Lloyd earlier that afternoon on his cellphone, but hadn’t been able to get through. He didn’t want to risk calling from the hotel, so he decided to try again after Zerimski had delivered his speech in Freedom Square the following day, by which time Washington would have woken up. Once Lloyd knew what was going on, Jackson was sure he would be given the authority to abort the whole operation before it was too late. He closed his eyes.

‘Are you married, Jackson?’

‘No, divorced,’ he replied.

‘There are now more divorces each year in Russia than in the States. Did you know that, Jackson?’

‘No. But I’ve come to realise over the past couple of days that that’s just the sort of useless information you carry around in that head of yours.’

‘What about children? You have any?’

‘None,’ said Jackson. ‘I lost …’

‘Why don’t you adopt me? Then I go back to America with you.’