Spaghetti whispered: “Never seen such security - barbed wire, trip wires, electrified wire, broken
glass, traps, strips of nails, armed guards. I even spotted a couple of sound
detectors, don’t see many of those about. Wonder which of the 20 bedrooms His
Gloriousness the Ambassador, Maisky isn’t it, kips in?”
Sowerbutt watched as
Tipper, ghost-like, slipped through the shadows on the manicured lawns of the
Italianate mansion in South Kensington which housed the Soviet Embassy. He froze, waiting for a couple of armed
guards to pass, then picked his way towards the marble steps leading to the
imposing entrance.
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