The Red Dove
A classic Cold War spy story about the space race from the bestselling thriller writer Derek Lambert.
As the Soviet space-shuttle Dove orbits 150 miles above the earth on its maiden flight, Warsaw Pact troops crash into Poland.
The seventy-two-year-old President of America wants to be re-elected, and for that he needs to win the first stage of the war in space: he needs to capture the Soviet space shuttle. But as the President plans his coup a nuclear-armed shuttle speeds towards target America – and only defection in space can stop it.
‘Writing as crisp as the Moscow winter … the Soviet setting is magically evocative’
New York Times
‘Lambert, author of many intelligent political thrillers, has another in this fastpaced, complex, and timely novel. Highly recommended’
Library Journal
‘A most satisfying thriller with a highly dramatic finish’
Publishers Weekly
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THE RED DOVE
Derek Lambert
Collins Crime Club
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Hamish Hamilton Ltd 1982
Copyright © Derek Lambert 1982
Design and illustration by Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com
Derek Lambert asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780008268428
Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2018 ISBN: 9780008268411
Version: 2017-12-20
RED ALERT!
Dove lurched violently to one side when it was seventy-five miles above the earth.
A beam weapon, Talin guessed, gripping the hand controller. Not a direct hit but it must have passed within a few feet of the fuselage.
Dove began to turn on her side, shuddering.
Talin fought the manual controls. Dove settled again, then suddenly dipped her nose.
Talin pulled, coaxed, shouted; but his arms were as heavy as lead as the earth pulled at them and his reactions were as slow as a drunk’s. Gradually Dove raised her beautiful, aristocratic nose. And it was then that Talin noticed that the red light beside the unconscious body of Sedov was glowing red. The bomb in the cargo bay must have been primed by shock waves from the beam.
Down plunged the Dove. With enough nuclear power inside her, Talin thought, to devastate a city. His brain froze. His head slumped forward …
CONTENTS
The absurd possibility that he, a Hero of the Soviet Union, could ever become a traitor occurred to Nicolay Talin when he was 150 miles above the surface of the Earth.
The absurdity – it was surely nothing more – was prompted by an announcement over the radio link from Mission Control:
‘We know that you will be proud to hear that at 05.00 hours Moscow time units of the Warsaw Pact Forces crossed the Polish border to help their comrades in their struggle against the enemies of Socialism attempting to subvert their country.’
Proud? Involuntarily, Talin shook his head. Such timing! While he was acting as ambassador of peace in space the Kremlin had perpetrated an act of war on Earth.
‘So they finally did it,’ was all he said.
He felt Oleg Sedov, Commander of the shuttle, Dove 1, on its maiden flight, appraising him. Sedov, forty-seven years old and as dark and sardonically self-contained as Talin was blond and quick, had been appraising men all his adult life.
Sedov, separated from Talin by a console of instruments, leaned forward in his seat, cut the radio and smiled at Talin.
‘You didn’t exactly glow with patriotic fervour,’ he remarked.
Talin gazed at Europe, bathed in spring sunshine, sliding away below them. There was a storm gathering over the sheet of blue steel that was the Mediterranean; to the north lay a pasture of white cloud; beneath that cloud was Poland, beneath that cloud war. In ninety minutes they would be back, having orbited the Earth. How many would have died during that time?
He tried to relax, to banish the spectre of treachery that had suddenly presented itself. True, he had often doubted before; but his doubts had never been partnered by disloyalty. He unzipped his red flight jacket and said: ‘You know better than I do, Oleg, that what goes on down there,’ jabbing a finger towards an observation window, ‘doesn’t have much impact up here.’
‘So you’re suppressing your joy until we land?’
‘If we land,’ said Talin who was piloting Dove.
‘Ah, there I share your doubts. But let’s keep them to ourselves,’ Sedov said, re-activating the radio.
