‘Ready for this?’ Jenny flashed him a smile as they wheeled their cases along the arrivals concourse. He had decided not to share his news with her so she probably thought he was absorbed with the coming mission. Which was what he should have been thinking about. This was hostile territory they were heading into now and neither of them could afford any slip-ups. The man they would be working with, Colonel Petrov, was with GRU, Russian military intelligence. But it was the FSB who would be on their tail, day and night. The FSB, Federal State Security, were the true successors to the infamous KGB, and recent history had shown that old habits died hard. Alexei Navalny, the Kremlin’s most outspoken critic and anti-corruption campaigner, had apparently been poisoned twice with Novichok nerve agent by FSB agents in 2020. Luke and Jenny would be wiping down a lot of surfaces on this trip.

Domodedovo airport was like almost any other major airport in the world: vast, modern and cavernous. But Luke and Jenny were no ordinary passengers stepping off flight BA237 from Heathrow. By the time they reached the passport kiosk they had already been photographed nine times. The phones in their pockets – ‘clean phones’, carefully prepped by the security team at Vauxhall Cross – had been remotely scanned using a hidden ‘grabber’ device installed in the arrivals terminal. Their IMSI – international mobile subscriber identity – numbers were now logged in the FSB’s computer system. Those numbers in turn were already being cross-checked electronically with several databases, many linked to FSB out-stations in embassies around the world. And all before they had even been asked to produce their passports.

The man who stepped out from behind the counter was unremarkable to look at. In fact, he could have passed for any government official in almost any country in Europe. He approached them with a curt nod and produced a small purple leather wallet, which he held out to show them. It was stamped with gold Cyrillic lettering and a twin-headed imperial eagle, with a sword and shield. An FSB identity badge. Luke noticed he did not bother to ask them for their own ID. With a thin attempt at a smile, the FSB man waved them past Passport Control and Customs and out into the darkness of the pre-dawn. It was a mild minus 1°C.

‘You are sleepy,’ he announced, making it sound almost like an order. ‘So. You will be taken to your hotel now.’ He gestured towards the open rear door of a black Mercedes limo that already had its engine running. ‘Later this morning we will collect you from your hotel. Colonel Petrov will meet you in his office.’ He waited until Luke and Jenny were installed in the back seat, then closed the door after them, issuing a quick instruction to the driver.