09:34.

But also cocky, like all violent men, they never doubt themselves or anything they do -- he should have come back here and taken: look at me, made sure I was lying in the car there with only the stall left. Not, then, a professional.

Crunching over the dry brittle snow, the car, in the high pale light of the morning. It wasn't the agent. He would have come back here straight away. This would be support. I'd signalled them.

But I watched carefully as the windscreen showed above the fold in the land, the light flashing across the glass. It was a minute before I could see the whole vehicle, not a SAAB: the agent had beet driving a SAAB.

I got onto my feet and the sky swung full -- circle and the snow came up and crashed against my face.

Sound of engines. Two cars.

'Christ, get him up.'

I didn't want that, they could keep their bloody hands off.

'Keep your bloody hands off.'

'Anything broken?'

I got up by sliding my back against the roof of the Skoda while they stood watching me, Frome and another man.

'Has the DIF signalled yet?' I asked Frame.

'Not yet.'

'Has Rusakov signalled?'

'No.'

'Jesus,' the other man said, 'what was he driving?' He was looking at the mess that gun had made all over the Skoda. It's a bit of spook vernacular some of them affect, 'He was driving an AK -- 47,' that sort of thing. I asked him what his name was.' Oh, Dover, sir. You all right, are you?' He stood staring at me, bland -- faced. Where did they find him, for God's sake?

'Which car is mine?' I asked Frome. I'd signalled him for a replacement 'Take your pick, but the Merc's more comfortable.'

It was a four -- door 280 SEL, too big, less easy to hide than the shitty -- looking little Trabant.

Head was throbbing. The seat -- belt had snapped when we'd come down. I asked Frome, 'How serviceable is the Trab?'

'Oh, top line. She just looks like that.'

'I'll take it.'

Then I was face -- down on the snow again and they were helping me up and I didn't say anything this time, we'd got a mission running and if this was the only way we could run it then all right.

'We'll get you into die car,' Frome said.

'I can walk. It's a head thing, that's all --'

'Bit of concussion.'

'Yes.' We picked our way over the snow towards the cars. 'When the DIF comes through, tell him it was the rogue agent. I was trying to make contact with him and he didn't like it.'debriefing, not much to say and not a great deal to show for it except a bloody headache but that wasn't the problem: I couldn't monitor the agent any more, he'd never let me get close.

Going down and I grabbed for the door handle of the Trabant but couldn't find it, snow came up again in a white wave.

'What time is it?'' 12:05, 'Frome said, his shadow huge on the wall, thrown by the lamplight. Ice rang against the beam of the hulk. I was facing the ceiling, flat on my back. 'Been out a couple of hours. How d'you feel?'

'All right. Has he come through yet?' Ferris.

'Not yet.'

'Rusakov?'

'No.'

But I must tell you, I shall resist arrest. I shall resist very strongly Fine, but it would be a question of numbers when it came; there wouldn't really be anything he could do.

'Call him?' Frome asked.

'No.' I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bunk and stayed like that, waiting for things to steady. I didn't want to call Rusakov; he'd think we weren't sure of him.

'Make some tea for you?' Frome asked.

'What? No. Get back to base.'

He didn't move, was watching me. 'I think you need a doctor The whole bunk was shifting, but I'd got control of things now I could shift them back if I kept still enough.

'I'm through it,' I told Frome.

He let out an impatient breath, clouding the air in the lamplight 'You go flat on your face again in here, you hit the wall or the floor and you'll bash your head again, that what you want?'

'Look,' I said and stood up, and the lamp circled slowly, finally stopped. 'I'm through it now, so get moving. I want you back a base.' the lamp had started circling again, but I found that if 1 moved my head with it I could get it to stop. Frome was watching me do it.

'Shit,' he said, 'if the DIF ever finds out I left you here looking like a zombie he'll have my balls.'

'I'll put in a good word for you,' I told him, and he turned and I went out, clumping up the companionway.

I woke three times before dark and finally felt hungry and heated some soup.

This was at 5:07 in the evening.

'Meridian,' I said.

'Hear you.' Frome.

'Any signal?'

From Ferris, from Rusakov. There must have been, after all this time.

'No. You all right now?'