Beatrix had been expecting the question and had given it some thought. “I’ll be honest, sir. My first impressions were poor. He was flippant, and I think he might like a drink a little too much. But once we began the operation, he impressed me. He conducted himself well.”

“What would you say if I considered him for the Group?”

She thought about that. “I’d say I would want to watch him for a little longer.”

“You don’t think he has what it takes?”

“No, not that. Just that I’m cautious and there are some things I’d like to be satisfied about before I made him an offer.”

“We can talk about that later,” Control said, glancing over at Bloom.

Beatrix guessed that he would prefer to keep the business of the Group between them.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“While we’re on the subject of exfiltration,” Bloom said, “I believe you were supposed to fly out of Caracas.”

“That’s right,” she said.

“So why didn’t you?”

She concentrated on maintaining a professional front. “There was too much heat. The attack at the cache wasn’t a coincidence. They knew where we were. And there was a vehicle on its way to Koralev’s house while I was there. It didn’t feel safe to go through the airport.”

Bloom looked down at the file. “So you drove to Guardia, took the ferry to Port of Spain and then flew out of Piarco International?”

“Correct. We have a Group asset in Trinidad. I was able to get a new legend. New passport.”

“Indeed,” Control said. “Rebecca Smith is no more.”

“No, sir. She is officially retired.”

The two men shared a look, and Control stood, rapping his knuckles on the surface of the desk.

“Well done, Number One. Good show—a very good show indeed.”

Beatrix stood, too.

“Take some time off,” he said. “But not too long. We’re working on something new and I’d like you to be involved. You’ll be notified as usual.”

Beatrix nodded and turned away from the desk. She gave a second nod to Bloom, who did not deign to stand, and made her way to the door.

15

Control turned towards the window. He could see Vivian Bloom’s reflection in the glass: he was still sitting, his right leg folded primly over his left.

“Well?” Control said. “What do you think?”

“She’s impressive. Just as you said.” Bloom gave a satisfied nod of his head. “Thank you, Control. I appreciate your work on this.”

Control ducked his head in acknowledgement. He sat down and drummed his fingers on the desk. “Did you know the Americans had a second team?”

Bloom shook his head. “It wasn’t official.”

“Off the books?”

“Yes,” Bloom said. “The State Department had no idea—still doesn’t. My usual contact at the CIA has denied it had anything to do with them.”